BUSS-LADEN:
ayo it's buss, the one you can't trust with your hash and green
turn your back, i'll burn your sack up like it's gasoline
i choke a groupie, smoke a doobie then i have a dream
like luther king, except it's based on savage themes
battle screams, visions of a tortured soldier
snatch the spleen of an unwilling organ donor
and fuck cologne, i sport a rotten corpse aroma
a walking folder full of formulas that caused ebola
KING J:
Puffin on atomic buds of chronic skunk
Blowin smoke from the tropic bongs n' blunts
so the flow we kick will make you very sorry, punk
High off the vapour of the sticky forest funk
Philly in my foggy lungs bout' to get silly wit the tommy gun
Vicious visual imagery depicting me killing MC's
Flow fresh as a river or stream, efficient n' brilliant free's
BussLaden chill's with them hardcore michigan G's
BUSS-LADEN:
with a bitch in my sleeve, bout' to show you who's the dopest
me and J spray spits like phlegm in super soakers
removing soldiers when we roll, these dudes are hopeless
we sleep and snooze from the weed and booze, droopy shoulders
and never proving sober when we're at the clinic
we're packing cricket bats so we can end your rapping gimmick
it's a fact, buss is racking up a stack of digits
dictating pussies like thatcher cos these cats are timid
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About the Artist
Kingj
Member since January 27 2014