Buddha Monk Chambermusik Anthem lyrics

 
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Chambermusik Anthem by Buddha Monk Chambermusik Anthem lyrics [Intro: Buddha Monk] Ahh... what a drink (I wanna be loved by you) Chambermusik (let me get your undivided attention muthafucka) Mowie Kei (This is CHAMBER... MUSIK, M-U-S-I-K) G-Clef, Cno Evil (exclusive, I don't give a fuck about ya'll seeds) Sho, Touch (I'm tired of all ya'll acting like, we ain't the niggas) B. Yakin (fuck ya'll niggas) Buddha Monk Straight up and down, this the only radio station you gon' get the hottest shit Underground and everything, Yo, Rod, let me tell ya'll niggas why [Hook x2: Buddha Monk] Ya'll niggas out there, you really don't want it Ya'll niggas out there, you really don't want it Ya'll niggas out there, you really don't want it Ya'll niggas out there, you really don't want it [Chorus x2: Buddha Monk] Aiyo, we beat ya'll niggas up, by smackin' ya niggas around Lay ya'll niggas out, by gattin' ya niggas down If Chambermusik can't bang, ya'll niggas can't bang So stand up, pay ums, we run this game [Buddha Monk:] This Chamber that I bang for, run with no game lost Gats up, hoes down, lay a nigga down This BK, 718, on your plate So stand straight, you slumped over, welcome to Hell's gate We pop any tops off, just to get rock soft Then head to the liquor store, Henny and reach score Never hood and we war, hit bitches for detour Monkalicious, fruit dishes, spread on yo ass quick Brooklyn, put ya lighters up Thanks for ah, lighting the way for me to rock that ass today Damn right, I get my shoes scuffed by doing G-Monk stomp Who want it, want it, come get it, plenty to give There's nothing in this world that I won't do I put the gat to you, lay you and your crew I'll do anything, so get the record straight Play it again, Chambermusik to the end, ahh [Chorus x2] [Babyface Fensta:] I got Chambermusik, when I spit, show and prove it Been using that phrase, since the Beat Street craze From Brooklyn, good looking, eye candy for the ladies New name for ya goon squad, the Haiti's Originator, style greater, no equator The father, enter my Chamber, it's danger Caution, gave you fare warning, beware Of MC's cloning, anyway, my hood stay hot The cops be posted on the block Under they noses, I slung rocks The grind don't stop, it only slow up a bit I keep the haters sick, so many niggas on my dick I think they funny, haha, po-po had me on the runny Buy my album please, I need the money My ears be all over the place, lotta dudes talk behind ya back I tell it to your face [Interlude: Babyface Fensta] Yeah... Chambermusik Exclusive Ya'll niggas ain't ready We gon' change ya'll brains to spaghetti Straight up, I'm coming from the nine ounce Where we make you bounce, with weight or with the butt of a gun Ya'll niggas better run, straight up It's Babyface Fensta, Buddha Monk, T-Boogz And my nigga muthafuckin' Dungeon Masta And we gon' blast ya, ya'll niggas better run Hide, run for cover, word to mother It's Chambermusik, we bout to do it Ya'll better get used to it, straight up Layin' you down [Chorus x2] [Dungeon Masta:] I could picture broken bodies staying in them flusty chains Nobody come forth to claim the remains Niggas rather hustle, when it's sunny outside, smoke when it rains Hit a bird on the hip for brains Don't play lip ball, my spit break down walls Hollow tip make clowns fall You wanna get at me, I'm a call away ya'll We could smoke trees together, try to scheme together Cross me, come around, won't be together Fucker, I'm starving, beyond fammen eat And you right, niggas do draw heat, hold up Hey, I'm an inch away from making niggas who did wrong Pay, I know your pockets long, hey, them niggas ain't that strong Hate, where I'm from, niggas survive off crumbs It's just a day in the life in the slums When dealing with the fiends, the jake, in the slums The grimey ass niggas got slugs for ya'll muthafucka, duh-deh-duh-duh [Outro: Dungeon Masta] Chambermusik is the shit, muthafucka Word is bond, cop that shit, muthafucka Don't make me have to split ya wig, muthafucka I'm telling you, shit ain't... yo, son Duke, that's the muthafuckin' radio station right there, G I mean come on, muthafucka, open ya muthafucking eyes, man What the fuck more can you see man, what the fuck This shit ain't no muthafuckin' game, you knowhatImean Chambermusik or die bitch, word is bond Don't make me come at ya'll niggas with the hatchet, son I will fucking scalp your bitch ass, son, for real, G This ain't no muthafucking game, son I will crucify ya fucking ass, son, for real, son

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