J. J. Cale

J. J. Cale - End of The Line lyrics

[Buckshot]

Call me, hits and say jack, cause I get no punani

Flippin' a script, leaving the sucker ducks behind me

I'm a threat to poetry, you know it's me

When you see brothers, running around, here now Duck Down

Here comes the Buckshot Shorty

Swingin' tracks, with more rhythm and blues then Berry Gordy

Doing damage, when I vanish an MC, and picture the dream

I'm a warrior, not Freddy Kruger Part Three

Slap that wack shit, you can face your arraignment

Life, I think you need some edutainment

Try to slave my mind frame, you catch a spazasm

Damn I feel good like a long awaited orgasm

I blow up like a nigga who doing life in jail

But failed, kick back and drink an L

Yeah, I'm the man that control with this

Run with a crew, and in my mind I'm a soloist

I don't walk, but verbally break x

That's why I got nuff respect, in this profession

But all punk sucker ducks, still don't know the answer

to the question

[Chorus x2: Buckshot]

How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)

How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)

How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)

How we gonna fuck it up? (Yo, it's fucked up)

[Buckshot]

Here I come, with the mic in my right

To get paid, plus raid the lime light

For any MC, that's so called, gets the props

I rock hip hop, non stop, to give nots

I'm the man, the original

Straight from Crown Heights, my life's subliminal

Make my mark then spark, intellect, you'll find

And give insight to the blind

I manifest the best when I step through

Five deadly styles, but I don't do kung fu

Give me the tool and I go buckwild

Bitches and niggaz on my dick because I'm versatile

So if you bite, I'll ignite the dynamite

Battle words, and battles gone, but I'm not that type

But I get hype, when I write to a format

Produced by Evil Dee, so now it's all that

Watch your back, cause I attack

And if you ain't down with Beatminerz, your

wig-wig-wack

[Chorus x2]

[Buckshot]

Lyrical genius, mic Mr. Wonderful

I grab the mic and make it turn like a run-do

Known to poetic, to terrorize, listen

This is a call to other mc's, time to televise

A smooth black brother on the rap scene

Doing my best to manifest to the fiend

That I can finesse, and excel beyond any dope

Guaranteed to turn the party out

I light shit up like a professional mob hit

No competition, cause the rest is garbage

Yeah, I'm not the one to get played

So back up off my dick, before I spark my renegade

Lyrical melodies are chosen

I revise the travel, cause the rest had 'em dozin'

Off, I'm the boss, don't forget it

When I rip it and stick it, manifest to the wicked

And wow, I don't smile when I catch wreck

Fuck the body blows, I'm going straight for the neck

[Chorus x2]

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