[Intro: Buddha Monk] They ain't know? Buddy Love, Buddha Monk Fat Tone Records, Duck-Lo Records Agent Stealth, Mr. Tibbs, Captain Save-A-Hoe
[Buddha Monk] Yo, let's get the party started, it's Duck-Lo and Fat Tone You disrespect that, someone be knocking at ya home Come to, show these cats, real raps and real gats No need for you to fill out, unless we at the party you at I'm a made cat, we strictly love Buddha Black Big cootie from the back, hold on it like Thundercats No party done, unless Duck-Lo get crunk Fat Tone get crunk, Buddy Love gets crunk
[Yung Budd] Aiyo, eyes all chinky, can't do me Guess who stepped in, L-O-V-E First name, Budd, you know who I... Aiyo, Buddha (How you do it, Budd?) We stay high Bottle popping ain't only expected We don't even hit the library if our gats ain't packing Dough ain't stacking, if the bar ain't bought out, word is bond, we coat jacking
[Chorus: Buddha Monk (Yung Budd)] Aiyo, we got dough (got dough) Got cheese (got cheese) (We do it up for the Fat Tone family) Aiyo, we got dough (got dough) Got cheese (got cheese) We do it up for the Duck-Lo family
[Buddha Monk] You could holla at ya boy if the Price is Right Nigga, I used to use ya money to pay for that ice Spit sixteen, need for sixty thou' of them things Now I'm living a little closer to an Iverson dream Duck-Lo in the bing, off with ya girl or ya dreams She said she loved the way I made her ting-a-ling-a-ling Don't hate the player, just hate that I played ya I'm a all-star major, read in every paper Loose lips don't sink ships on park bench Get you stuck up and robbed for yo' whip I stay drunk but never slip, armed with my clips Surround ya whole house, you be like \"Huh? What's this?\" It's me, Daddy Warbucks, shutting up yo' what what? Taking the streets from all you punk fucks Fifty/fifty love won't get you drippy-drippy blood My sticky-sticky rug, chalk with ya presents
[Chorus 2 2X: Buddha Monk (Yung Budd)] Aiyo, we got dough (got dough) Got cheese (got cheese) We do it up for the Duck-Lo family Aiyo, we got dough (got dough) Got cheese (got cheese) (We do it up for the Fat Tone family)
[Yung Budd] Aiyo, we back on the scene, Budd and 'Bucks Got dough, stack chips, ladies call me Ush I get the butts, and my ear stay gleaming Three-way ring and, chicks want semen Infrared beaming, cuz if you sticking me I tell ya boys, \"Get naked, down on ya knees\" Bound to squeeze, we see y'all rolling, pounds All iced out, gambling, holding it down Firebird with trucks, Fat Tone and 'Bucks Slumped in the trunk, filling Phillie with chunks You know I never talk madness, cuz I'm more quiet When we busting that, yo that's a wrap Come and check me now (Brooklyn) We ain't riding with clowns, got shit now Feel me, niggaz? And when we coming on, we coming on with the get down
