BLACK MOON - Stoned Iz The Way lyrics

rate me

[Buckshot]

Stoned is the way of the walk

In New York, shit is real, number one, grime this meal

Now I'm for real, my mind's designed to kill

Like muthafuckas who behind them chills, and I'm still

Settin' it off, lettin' it off, begin it

Rough til my ending, leavin' in trust linen

Little Buck, bad ass fuck, whatever now

Got smart with the hustle, shot clever now

Set 'em down, make way for the king

Hailin' from New York, New York, the big city of schemes

Man, I'm mean, it's so many rumors, cause I

Stay fly, and do crimes, with alibi

That's why, y'all be lookin' like, y'all them Brooklyn Knights

You know the type, gettin' niggaz on or off the night

So get on it right, cause we off the chain like bikes when they stoled

And all of my niggaz like when it's cold

Cause in the winter, I begin to, alotta other shit

Now BDI means Buck Does It

Hennessey, you guzzle it, cause wasn't this, the recovenent

If it ever was, we covered it, we thuggin' it

Like Joe and the R, no film, but y'all can still get shot

When you pose on your car, slow up pa

You should get you dough up, pa

So I can stick ya like a blow up doll, now grow up y'all

[Chorus x2: Buckshot]

Bidididididi-da-di-day, bidididididi-da-di-day

Stoned is the way - of the walk

In New York, shit is real

And everywhere you go, you know the deal

[Buckshot]

Now let me show you how the East Coast rock

Better yet, how these toasts pop

Keep frontin', and your magazine team don't need those props

Only mag' I need is on machine gun tops, now take it back

You said something? I said it back

And next time it's a bomb, in your watch, when you send it back

We the true Men in Black, cause we don't wear suits

And ties, when we shoot you guys, in fact

It's still Timbs and Carhart jeans

With my team in the dark art beam

Man, you know how hard I scheme, to get cream

To get this far and come off with a jar of steam

That's y'all dream, shit, pardon me

I got to make moves in the game, give a fuck about losin' the fame

Better yet, losin' ya brain, the more or less, losin' ya name

Cause you won't be losin' no pain, who movin' this mayne?

[Chorus x2]

[Buckshot]

Caught up in the street life, everybody think it's a sweet life

I mean, it's sweet, if you eatin' right

But nine times out of ten, the mind tricks the body again

The body go for the shotty to win

The brain split, ain't shit, niggaz talk alot

But loose lips sink ships, and you about to drop

And I don't mean no record, be double o, be double you

We never know, he never knew, check it

Boots and jeans, all hoops and dreams

The ghetto model just to get out of the ruthless scene

We call the hood, so it's all good, I hustled up state

In the woods, with po' nine, put your face in the mud

I had to grind, double time, get mine, listen to dudes

That shine, movin' through them ruthless times

[Chorus x2]