Artist: Buddha Monk & Popa Wu f/ Polladon Album: Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 5: Back Then Song: Lights Out Typed by: firstname.lastname@example.org, Tha Masta [Intro: Polladon (Buddha Monk)] (I'm your king, man, motherfuckers) Some more true platinum shit That's right, it's like that Hittin you hardcore Comin thru rugged and raw You ain't ready, Buddha Monk (We gon' grab you motherfuckers) Polladon.. SUUUUUU! (Soul ain't nothin, nigga what?) [Polladon] You asked about me, here I am (what?), lights out (haha) Polladon P the man that make you all chant I flow to the method of the mic rush Spit you germs like quick flush, no exodus Trapped by the butter plush, ten second rush Duff days to a hush, blow the spot till it bust I spit weight that crush, niggas trust Verbal torch your ass, the flesh turns to dust Bet I make your bitch blush, bring her back To the room sipping cognac, lick a dick in her sack (Hahahaha) Roll the buddha blunts, I back straight stee Give her the best nut I got then start bleedin Leg selection, Donism voted for election Penetrate the section, like a dick with infections Brooklyn Zu nigga, don't know who you messin Only time I'm calm's when I'm restin [Chorus: Polladon] It's the stormy days, killa ways, the war is on Run for cover, Duck Low could strong arms Infiltrate this rap industry by dropping bombs So stay calm, and these few slugs won't do you mad harm [Polladon] Yo, what's all the talk about? Is it true that G.P. and B.V., don't care who? Ready for war, set up strategies Lift off light son, defy the laws of gravity Let me talk to nickel chromes, bad to the bone Spit dialect to freeze you cats stone We hold down the fortline thoroughly Fish niggas that be plottin in schemes to bury me I'm look at, my third eye could light the whole world As I talk shit and guzzle Henney hot till I hurl Duck Low, blazin it hot, inferno Fatalities, rippin this shit, you didn't know? Come again, (come again) You murdered as one we all in First by first, bu the ink leaking from my pen Draw up vivid pictures to make a thug cry Statements that falsify, look in the eye Crooked pass, I could see it through the math And it's about time y'all feel the wrath Straight up [Chorus] [Buddha Monk] Watch this seventh mic holder who come bashin down ya area My avengence is a sword of Zu slang and your blood drip How dare you wanna test those who rock shows? (That's us) Knock down doors, but right to a bitch with the Moe' And my challengers, only feel the cut of Excalibur Now this target's erased, this G.O.D. took your space You ask yourself what makes rain? What makes hail? What makes snow? Leave you cold like Eskimos It's that Brooklyn Zu flow, leave it alone, let it go You're in a warzone, where most people don't make it home It's the seventh wonder (wonder), I strike down like thunder Punishin mc's on your own radios and TV's So y'all look for me, I'm comin out in the year 2G It's the Clash of this Titan, knock you out like Mike Tyson I'm the Clash of the Titans, knock you out like Mike Tyson Don't miss that you motherfucka!