Bucktown

Smif-N-Wessun - “Bucktown”
[Emcee(s): Steele and Tek]
[Producer(s): DJ Evil Dee and Mr. Walt]
[Sample 1 (Hook/Riff): Jack Bruce - “Born to Be Blue” (2:57)]
[Sample 2 (Drums): The Whatnauts - “Why Can’t People Be Colors Too?” (3:51)]

[Intro: Smif-N-Wessun]
Tek: Yo! Check this out. Smif-N-Wessun in the joint one time. Putting you punks to this newness. In ’94, you know what I’m saying? Lock your doors. Nobody’s safe, you know what I’m saying? Check it out. Haha
Steele: Ha. Once again. Yeah, yeah. Recognize. Real heads on the rise. Haha. Yeah

[Verse 1: Steele]
I walk around town with the pound strapped down to my side
No fronting, just in case I gotta smoke something
‘Round here, heads don’t act their age
You might be another dead bwoy upon page
Enter the cipher with your lighter
L’s are ready, prepare for another all-nighter
But keep a watch for the cops ‘cause they rock Glocks
Coming on the block, trying to rock knots
Pigs be acting like they’re bigger than us niggas from the streets
‘Cause we stalk mad deep and them walk beats
I guess them hold a grudge ‘cause I won’t budge
Playing tough, staring down the judge with my hands cuffed
Standing there with my nappy hair and my dirty gear
Au revoir, yeah, now I’m up outta here
Pigs look me up and down with a frown
Is it because I’m brown or is it because I’m from Bucktown?

[Hook: Steele]
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers

[Verse 2: Tek]
Got
Five emcee that wanna contest we
Got your nooses ready, hanging over the trees
Bring on your sounds and get drowned by my massive
Kill you, batty boy, and hold your lover for hostage
Knock, knock, niggy, knock—that’s four shots empty
On a violator that was sent out to get me
I’m tore up from the floor up, and everything’s Black, but, Steele/still
I’m on-point, ready to Buck, ain’t nothing sweet, Jack
Bucktown, I represent it on the love, love
Deeply rooted from my Timbs to my dick above
Don’t sweat the bulge coming from my hip
Grip once you get hit when I let my tool click
Nowhere to run, ambush lurks in the dark
Heltah Skeltah smirks while you’re getting torn apart
Here comes the rude bwoys with the ganja plants
Smif-N-Wessun, generals of the Boot Camp

[Hook: Tek]
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the… heh… home of the…
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers

[Verse 3: Tek]
Another murderer, just another prankster. Rude bwoy
Dead ‘cause him thought him was a gangster, tried to live the life
Of a hood from the streets. Test the wrong dread
Now him in eternal sleep. Mr. Rippa
I lurk in the Stuy, twist up
The ganja when I wanna get high with my bredren
A buddha session. Learn your lesson or get
Blasted by Mr. Smif or Mr. Wessun

[Verse 4: Steele]
Bucktown’s everywhere, I swear
It’s clear to me. You feeling we now and really see
Nightfall ‘round the way, original heads
Come out to play, puff herb, break day
It’s just a regular, everyday state of being I
Mind’s holding weight, rhymes free the mind in
Time. I find reality follows me where
I roam. 360 degrees, back home in…

[Hook: Steele]
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers
(Bucktown!) Home of the original gun-clappers

[Outro: Smif-N-Wessun]
Steele: Once again, Smif-N-Wessun. And we do it like this. To my man Buckshot, Ruck and Rock. Ha! All the team, Boot Camp, Evil Dee, Mr. Walt. Yeah. Bucktown. Yeah. Yo, roll that up there. Haha, and we do it like this
Tek: Recognize. Yeah, yeah. Boot Camp. Yo, roll up that next sack, son. We up out of here. To my brethren, you know’m saying?