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[Intro: Buddha Monk, (Shorty Shit Stain)]
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Yea, aight, yo
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We just gon' shut all these mothafuckas up
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(For all y'all gangsta mothafuckas)
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Yea, that shit
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[Shorty Shit Stain of Brooklyn Zu]
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It wasn't my fault you came outside without ya strap on
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Tryin to get yo mack on and niggaz took oath of possession
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Should've rolled deep, get crooked by niggaz I creap
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and catch ya when ya least expect, the hard head
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For those livin trife, it cuts like a knife
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Who choose to play dice, who choose to play dice
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It's that, this one is a money maker
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My album took that taker, I see ya nigga money and he stashin
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I caught that nigga and I had to quick react
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and blast quick, nigga tried to front, he gonna laugh at
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This type of style is hardcore, nigga tried to front
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When he WHAT? WHAT? Move on him, WHAT?
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But I'ma hit him with my utmost shit
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If ya can't bring death, then ya can't represent
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[Chorus: Buddha Monk]
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Deadly is the slang from the Brooklyn Zu
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When we comin thru ya town, what ya niggaz gonna do?
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[Dutch Masta Killa]
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Never carried steal, before ya got that deal
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But now ya wouldn't have got it, so now ya puffin chronic
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Two heads of drakness comin forth, there is many
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Blind once or twice, then those heads become pennys
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My swing is more deadly than a shot from yo gun
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You see I swung once, but really I swung fourth
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Just be by yo vision, now yo shit's on the floor
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Shit like that, ya can't face with plasta
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Sent niggaz back cuz I am the Dutch Masta
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Kill or pylon wack-ass styles in the mud
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Minds deep in heart, this is gold wit yo gut
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It's understood, oh he be someone you can't see
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and that someone is me, too deep for you to believe
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>From the day of yo birth till ya ride in the hurse
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There's nothin that happens that could've been worse
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Let me free, atom bomb will be the final sequel
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Which all men are cremated equal
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[Buddha Monk]
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Never war, come back on four tracks
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Niggaz wanna test the Bees, ya must be wack
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Never more, actual fact
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Comin thru with the Killa Bees attack
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My sword has the power to devour in any hour
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Slang cuts ya brains, now ya veins only hang
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Matter of sense, so I inflict the Killa hits
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Dirty will assist with this mix, breaks mad shit
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There's is no crew that can test the 1-12 crew
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Don't let me go SUU!, Killa Bees comin thru
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Break the war with the great and it kills with the slicin
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I come with mad sins, I'm the happy man again
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Come into my realm and I kill like the lizard palm
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Can't prevail with the tails, now ya mind dwells
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into a dimension, no facts, only fiction
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Who's sent to this train has three sixes on their skin
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[Dutch Masta Killa]
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BLOAW! Little hare was good, was dippy
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The wild-ass hippy who always packed the heater
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Lived the good life, was praised around, the hood life
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He ran with his man from the second floor
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Livin happy, puffin on the staircase wall
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Greedy had a younger brotha, they both lived with motha
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Motha had no fatha, they both held each otha
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and prayed for the otha, Greedy saw the seat
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Never knew the feat, at nite he would creap
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was still packin heat, the planned to catch a digga
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Greedy caught the hiccups, one, two more, three
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But Nosey got away, the eighty-fiver man
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Yea, he still strayed away, the clean Eddie faked it
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No icepick or fist, glock or tech-nine
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He contemplated this, caught in the shootout
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His man wanted his boot out, he was caught in a trance
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He has his mask, laid out past dawn, now momma's grave missed
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[Outro: Dutch Masta Killa, (ODB)]
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Comin at 'cha from every type of angle
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Ya know Killa Bees represent the Bronx
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Queens, Manhatten, all over this world
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The east coast, straight and down
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Straight out of Clark's
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And all over everywhere
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Medina Warriors
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(I love to hear the Bees!)
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-----------------
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Cuts to the Gut
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Buddha Monk |