'I can break it down like whatever you want' -] Buckshot Shorty (2x)
Verse 1:
All Glocks down arriving is the bulletproof lyricist
All rude boy big up now here this I'm clasic like a coca cola why don't you roll a 'L' And make it spiffy are the 'L's twisty oh yes lets get lifty Long live the rugged female Heather B So all you gun waving niggas put down your Glocks please No need for playing the hard anymore The bulletproof lyricist is knocking at your door So open up let me in lets get nasty if you wanna I'll freak dat butt like a film by Heather Hunter Touch you, cut you I might just buss you Buss your shit MC turned pretty east coast kid How I swing bounce to Brooklyn No need to tell you what I partook in Just know Heather B. is back in town It's no question all Glocks down
Chorus: Glocks down, hit'em with that funky sound I can break it down like whatever you want (say 4x)
Verse 2:
Walking with middle finger up brown timbs steppin' through Coming soon to a corner spot near you Its the side walkin' rap talkin' hip hop sister No need to try me misss-ter You got rhymes go for it we need no chorus Freestyles comin' from da door And who's testin' the untestable styles flexible You gonna haveta bounce twelve rounds TKO by the third fuck what you heard I didn't feel like playing around Cuz you's part-time witha part rhyme committing no crimes And claiming to be hard on the block So feel my funk my beat my vibe Recognize that I'm live or alive you know the time Kid just raise up rise up open your eyes up I already got you sized up so wise up BITCH A 'L' to the neck a double deuce of Becks And now my mind set I'll be rowdy to the death Do us part one love rock crew right here in heart Don't even play me son you'll get did done Turnin' all gats or guns i'll leave your shorty with her hair undone And then you know Heather B. is back in town So no question all Glocks down
Chorus
Verse 3: I got my peeps to my left side and then my right Can't wait until tonight when real niggas turn trife I love the orange light from the Dutch Master tip My whole crew bent a half a hunned gone spit Chocolate Thai true dat yo who him who dat Snatchin' up da 'L' like a sniper Son you will surely miss the next cipher If you ever tryta hog up the 'L' again Last one to put in first son to dig in Now I hear you riffin' me while I'm countin' your toke The henloke burns my throat with no chaser I'm feelin vibes by my hip from the black pager Blowin' up for da nine four for da nine five For da nine square either way say word word Heather B. is in there to the most high To the most def no quest all Glocks down