[{"id":20904194,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Buck Em Down","duration":302.262857,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Buck Em Down\n  duration_ms: 302263\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":34431106,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Buck Em Down","duration":297.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Buck Em Down\n  duration_ms: 297000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":35874291,"name":"Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Buck 'Em Down/Murder MC's (12\")","duration":302.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Buck 'Em Down/Murder MC's (12\")\n  duration_ms: 302000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":4926163,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Diggin' In Dah Vaults","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Diggin' In Dah Vaults\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":29657514,"name":"Buck Em Down (remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Original Crooks, Original Headz","duration":295.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Original Crooks, Original Headz\n  duration_ms: 295000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":29886336,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Top 500 of the Greatest Hip-Hop and Rap Songs","duration":290.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Top 500 of the Greatest Hip-Hop and Rap Songs\n  duration_ms: 290000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":29996186,"name":"Buck Em Down (remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Diggin' In Dah Vaults","duration":294.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Diggin' In Dah Vaults\n  duration_ms: 294000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":35999063,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Diggin' In Dah Vaults  (Compilation)","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Diggin' In Dah Vaults  (Compilation)\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":36490670,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Diggin' In Dah Vaults CD-Rip","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Diggin' In Dah Vaults CD-Rip\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":39416636,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage","duration":295.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Enta da Stage\n  duration_ms: 295067\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"},{"id":29886397,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Hip Hop Forever II","duration":159.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Hip Hop Forever II\n  duration_ms: 159000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":22025469,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta Da Stage: The Complete Edition","duration":295.4666669,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: 'Enta Da Stage: The Complete Edition'\n  duration_ms: 295467\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":23111921,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage","duration":163.773333,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Enta da Stage\n  duration_ms: 163773\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":22992882,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage (Japanese Remaster)","duration":295.066667,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Enta da Stage (Japanese Remaster)\n  duration_ms: 295067\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":11742791,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Enta da Stage","duration":295.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Enta da Stage\n  duration_ms: 295000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":34788884,"name":"Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Nervous: The Second 50 Releases","duration":294.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck 'Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: 'Nervous: The Second 50 Releases'\n  duration_ms: 294000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":28036473,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Lossless 1990s Singles","duration":302.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: Lossless 1990s Singles\n  duration_ms: 302000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":39417971,"name":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon","albumName":"Ego Trip's Greatest Hip Hop Singles: 1994","duration":295.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"buckshot shorty\nAheh yeah... yeah whattup?\nWelcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\nYeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\nI'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\nWe have s-w-n-d on deck\nWe about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\nWe'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\nJust buckle up, enjoy your flight\none: buckshot shorty\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every individual in sight\nLet my man jewel peep your style for your card\nThen i kick a and take a look at the god\nAiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\nAnd show em how you represent the boot camp clik\nYou know what they say about brothaz who screwface\nUpstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\nI ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\nKid it's hot, word to ma duke\nAnd get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\nBuck with the shot that i bang with hang with\nGang hanger with the double-edged banger\nBoot camp clik's breakin your laws\nIf you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nThen fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\nBut i'ma put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\nbuckshot and dj evil dee\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down, buck em down\nBuck em down! (wind parade)\nBuck em down, buck em down...\ntwo: buckshot shorty\nYeah they tell me chill when i kick it\nAlthough lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\nOr how i shot somebody in the mug\nWith the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\nWhen i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin the dice\nLayin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\nGq headin up to one-two-five\nPush up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\nI couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\nNow you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\nBuck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\nBut they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\nSo if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\nOr i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\nthree: buckshot shorty\nWhen i was in school i was the mack\nBuck was strapped with a lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\nAnd a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\nA mad little brotha runnin up on em all\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\nBut youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\nThey knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\nIn the nine-four it's all about the war\nNinety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\nIn nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\nTo get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\nNow i'm the original head givin instructions\nThumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\nWelcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\nWhere the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\nbuckshot shorty\nYeah, i like this\nYa know, this is hittin\nTo the lab, down in bucktown, hah\nI hope you enjoyed your flight\nWith black moon, word\nThis is how we do on the regular\nAnd umm, please come again\nWord, we out\n(wind parade)","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Da Beatminerz Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon\n  album: 'Ego Trip''s Greatest Hip Hop Singles: 1994'\n  duration_ms: 295467\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  buckshot shorty\n  Aheh yeah... yeah whattup?\n  Welcome to flight black moon, we about to take you on a journey\n  Yeah... brothers lookin mad fine everything's lookin smooth\n  I'm your captain buckshot, my co-pilot is dj evil dee\n  We have s-w-n-d on deck\n  We about to take you about 31, 000 feet into the air\n  We'll be cruising at a smooth altitude so\n  Just buckle up, enjoy your flight\n  one: buckshot shorty\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every individual in sight\n  Let my man jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then i kick a and take a look at the god\n  Aiyyo god hit them brothers with a real quick\n  And show em how you represent the boot camp clik\n  You know what they say about brothaz who screwface\n  Upstate your knee be gettin laced, word life\n  I ain't gonna bull, ask my man buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n  Kid it's hot, word to ma duke\n  And get the loot from the man at night from my timberland\n  Buck with the shot that i bang with hang with\n  Gang hanger with the double-edged banger\n  Boot camp clik's breakin your laws\n  If you fake we gon bust a cap, matter fact, break your jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Then fill your lungs up with all the bull you had within\n  But i'ma put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in bucktown all we do everyday\n  buckshot and dj evil dee\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down, buck em down\n  Buck em down! (wind parade)\n  Buck em down, buck em down...\n  two: buckshot shorty\n  Yeah they tell me chill when i kick it\n  Although lyrics is wicked, it's all about the l's and how i lick it\n  Or how i shot somebody in the mug\n  With the slug leavin white chalk all on over pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n  When i was fifteen runnin around i was a real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin the dice\n  Layin up, gettin nice, talkin bout a heist\n  Gq headin up to one-two-five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin live on the prize\n  I couldn't get the time of day when i was little k\n  Now you call me buck so your lips wanna puck?\n  Buck to your head, i know your x amount of thoughts\n  But they call me buckshot, cause i take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon deck\n  So if you see a weak brotha speak to that bastard\n  Or i'ma hit em up with the plastic\n\n  three: buckshot shorty\n  When i was in school i was the mack\n  Buck was strapped with a lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the gear that i g'd\n  And a nickel bag of *inhale sound*, yes indeed\n  A mad little brotha runnin up on em all\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin shorty's a bad-ass\n  But youse a smart little brotha so you gonna last\n  They knew the time, they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so i came to split ya\n  In the nine-four it's all about the war\n  Ninety-give ninety-six boot camp clik is takin over\n  In nineteen-ninety-eight i couldn't wait\n  To get all my brothaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now i'm the original head givin instructions\n  Thumpin with them brothaz beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to bucktown, u.s.a.\n  Where the weak, get they s--- ass played\n\n  buckshot shorty\n  Yeah, i like this\n  Ya know, this is hittin\n  To the lab, down in bucktown, hah\n  I hope you enjoyed your flight\n  With black moon, word\n  This is how we do on the regular\n  And umm, please come again\n  Word, we out\n  (wind parade)\n"},{"id":31806020,"name":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","trackName":"Buck Em Down (Remix)","artistName":"Black Moon, Smif-n-Wessun","albumName":"Diggin' In Dah Vaults","duration":291.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Buck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nTo the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\nEach and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\nLet my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\nThen I kick a verse and take a look at the God\nGod hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\nC'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\nYou know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\nUpstate niggaz become chicks, word life\nI ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\nOn the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\nShit is hot, word to Ma Duke\nAnd get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\nShorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\nGang hanger with the double edged banger\nAnd I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\nNiggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\nI'ma bring it to your chest like wind\nFill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\nBut I'm a put it back so parlay\nTo the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nNiggaz tell me chill when I kick it\nAlthough my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\nOr how I shot a nigga in the mug\nWith the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\nYou couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\nWhen I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\nOn the corner out shootin' the dice\nLayin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\nG Q headin' up to one, two, five\nPush up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\nI couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\nNow you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\nFuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\nBut they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\nWord to the shell around my chest\n\nBig up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\nSo if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\nOr I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\nBuck em down\n(Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nWhen I was in school I was a mack\nShorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\nKnapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\nAnd a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\nA mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\nFly as hell, hit the park play the wall\nAnd all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\nBut youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\nThey knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\nHit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\nIn the nine three it's all about me\nNinety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\nIn nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\nTo get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\nNow I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\nFuckin' with them niggaz\nBeatminerz on productions\nWelcome to Bucktown, USA\nWhere the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\nBuck em down\n\nAiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\nWho buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\nOn the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\nShit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\nBuckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\nMr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\nSo buck down the bullshit in ninety three\nNinety four, ninety five, shit is ours\nBlack Moon, we out","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Buck Em Down (Remix)\n  artist: Black Moon, Smif-n-Wessun\n  album: Diggin' In Dah Vaults\n  duration_ms: 291000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life\n  Each and every nigga whenever I'm in the sight\n  Let my nigga jewel peep your style for your card\n  Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God\n  God hit them niggaz with a verse real quick\n\n  C'mon God niggaz is all on your dick\n  You know what they say about niggaz who ride dicks\n  Upstate niggaz become chicks, word life\n  I ain't bullshittin', ask my nigga Buff\n  On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff\n\n  Shit is hot, word to Ma Duke\n  And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland\n  Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, fuck with\n  Gang hanger with the double edged banger\n  And I got niggaz clingin' my drawers\n\n  Niggaz fake I'ma bust a cap fuck that I'm breakin' jaws\n  I'ma bring it to your chest like wind\n  Fill your fuckin' lungs up with all the bullshit from within\n  But I'm a put it back so parlay\n  To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Niggaz tell me chill when I kick it\n  Although my shit is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it\n  Or how I shot a nigga in the mug\n  With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug\n  You couldn't tell me other word to mother\n\n  When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover\n  On the corner out shootin' the dice\n  Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist\n  G Q headin' up to one, two, five\n  Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize\n\n  I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K\n  Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck\n  Fuck that bitch, I know your X amount of thoughts\n  But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts\n  Word to the shell around my chest\n\n  Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec\n  So if you see a weak nigga speak to that bastard\n  Or I'ma hit his ass with the motherfuckin' plastic\n\n  Buck em down\n  (Word life, I ain't bullshittin')\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  When I was in school I was a mack\n  Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact\n  Knapsack, filled with the shit that I G'd\n  And a nickel bag of weed, yes indeed\n  A mad little nigga runnin' up on 'em all\n\n  Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall\n  And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass\n  But youse a smart little nigga so you gonna last\n  They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda\n  Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya\n\n  In the nine three it's all about me\n  Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years fuck it I'm takin' over\n  In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait\n  To get all my niggaz and do shows from state to state\n  Now I'm the motherfucker that's givin' instructions\n\n  Fuckin' with them niggaz\n  Beatminerz on productions\n  Welcome to Bucktown, USA\n  Where the weak niggaz get their shit ass played\n\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n  Buck em down\n\n  Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real niggaz\n  Who buck down the bullshit, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  On the real, rest in peace to my nigga Buttahin, Coney Island\n  Shit is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'?\n  Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee\n\n  Mr. Walt, B, all my niggaz in the motherfucker\n  You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin'\n  So buck down the bullshit in ninety three\n  Ninety four, ninety five, shit is ours\n  Black Moon, we out\n"}]