Killa From The Villa - Buddha Monk

Hahahaahahahahahahahahaha

Once again it’s the God Buddha Monk

Representin the Zu

1−1-2, 4−4-1 Franklin Av

Peace to all my niggas

The Ripper, knowwhatI’msayin?

We gon' drop this track for my nigga, Y-Kim

And Q-Base.

And it’s deadly, deadly

Ah, it’s the killa straight from the villa

Ah, it’s the killa straight from the villa

Ah, it’s the killa straight from the villa

Thriller, pealer, mind cell dweller

There’s no need to get frantic

The Zu attacks minds and shit gets real hectic

Makin the kill like 7 masters

Tearin up the skills with total disaster

I’m after punk-ass niggas with laughter

Puttin stains in their raps, here, now and after

You want to test the style of the Shaolin foe?

The cut comes from far, it is eyes, noses and souls

That’s not enough time to lick nuff shots

The tech, the callico and one in the block

The 3 is for the kill, that kills and wrecks skills

It doesn’t really matter how you feel, I want you ill

If you dare peepin skills, pullin vains, holes in shins

Only thing that’s left is eyes, noses and chins

Who, tell me?

Who, tell me?

Who, tell me?

Can be known within…

I see it in your eyes and you’re scared to fuckin death

You fuck around boy, I cut your fuckin neck

Your styles is wack like that of, um, a hot mode

Man over sightly with spiritual powders

I’m deadly to the grain with my Brooklyn Zu slang

A killa that leaves no trace or blood stains

You’re fucked up, now it’s time to go dirt for dirt

You want the Zu name, for that you must work

You should’ve been taught 7 scores and 5 mics ago

I take life like my man Fidel Castro

There’s war, things ain’t just peace no more

I come thru like a Texas chainsaw

F.A. is where I rock with twin Glocks

Makin shit hot, rockin mad peoples knots

You’re hit, then you bleed, then you say you’re shit

You wish I disappeared by same this I’ll fix

Behold, I’m the foe that stands in the chamber

I’m Mr. RipYou when releasin the danger

Monk, receiver and teaches us all things that you need

Snatchin niggas by the neck and the mother feels the pain

Lyrical master with diaster, BLAOW!

Push yor caps back like burnin dutch masters

The sword of my click is crazy mad thick

Makin deep cuts cuz I’m sick of all this shit

That’s my style, son, I’m ready for the war

The hits from the God, prepare to hit the floor

Sparks of an element, movin in a 7

Feelin the wrath of the Buddha, no wait for you to check it

Check this, here’s the killa thru this danger

Not enough, enters 36 chambers

Heads that feel, that thrills with a new skill

Burns the eyes, kills like electric eels

Kill has been told, what’s the Shaolin foes gold?

Cut razor sharp, inflict holes in souls

Master of disaster, Wu tapes are raptures

Cut many ducks, became a grand master

You want to oppose this deadly technique

Buddha’s knowledge is wicked, wicked like 10 priests *echos*

You don’t understand!

You don’t motherfuckin understand!

Don’t fuck with the Brooklyn Zu

If you don’t have the motherfuckin skills!

You bitch-ass mothafuckers can suck my dick!

Don’t fuck with the Brooklyn Zu!

Suck my motherfuckin dick!