Buckwild

DJ Unknown & DJ Mekalek ft. Louis Logic, J-Treds, Wiseguy, and Gaston - “Buckwild”
[Emcee(s): Louis Logic, J-Treds, Wiseguy, and Gaston]
[Producer(s) of Instrumental 1: Buckwild (Original Instrumental from Organized Konfusion - "Bring It On (The Lost Remix)")]
[Producer(s) of Instrumental 2: Buckwild (Original Instrumental from AZ - "Your World Don't Stop (Buckwild Remix)")]
[DJ Mix: DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek]
[Scratches: DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek]

[Intro: J-Treds and Louis Logic]
J-Treds: It’s been a long time. Yeah. J-Treds. Rock with Unknown. Mek, what’s the deal? Yeah
Louis Logic: Yeah. You sissified motherfuckers. This is Louis motherfucking Logic. Your man DJ Unknown. Your man Mek’s after the respect, you know what I’m saying? Straight snatching your neck. Yeah. I’ma catch you in check. Yo, yo

[Verse 1: Louis Logic]
In a contest for ripping [?]’s breast out of a
Prom dress, I’m no nonsense. My whole o-
-ffense is extensive offensive material
If you don’t want stress, you should censor your stereo
My curse words get on your worst nerve quicker than
Your chickenhead flocking to my bird perch. Learn first
Forget school. Burn worse than jet fuel for trying me
I’ll talk shit as if it were a cesspool inside of me
I’m less cool to guys I see than [?]. Riding with
The next dude, flipping you the finger from a Lex Coupe
“I guess Lou’s another one of them dicks who thinks his stuff is
Too big to do a show and chill with some of the kids.” Yo, shut the
Fuck up, you son of a bitch. I’ll choke you with your backpack
Straps in front of your chick and smack that ass
Save your abstract raps for the sissies on the internet
I’ve been serving food for thought—y’all didn’t come to dinner yet
Bitch!

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek] (x2)
"Straight out the fucking dungeons of rap" - Sample from Nas - "N.Y. State of Mind"
“Where fake niggas don't make it back" - Sample from Nas - "N.Y. State of Mind"

[Interlude 1: J-Treds]
Check him out

[Verse 2: J-Treds]
Ayyo, in primetime, I shine, so when you tired
Of those weak styles, seek and ye shall find mine
And find out what spitting a rhyme’s about
A fucker with me, turn niggas duck emcees—flying south
Have them peeking, and how they gonna see J-Treds
Creating a buzz? Heads ‘fraid of my bee sting
Froze still ‘cause they don’t want it, so they don’t rip
Hardly. Sorry to be blunt—I don’t roll spliffs
I’ll only roll on rappers who flow wrong
And you wannabe thugs—yeah, I could go on
No need—you get the picture—don’t read
Just know: if you try to step up, I’ll give you cold feet
And what? I’ll spit that shit rappers can’t touch
Because I ain’t no joke. Rappers are stand-up
Rappers are knocked down ‘cause they do not sound
As ill as mine, so do you want to rock now?

[Hook: Samples with Scratches by DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek] (x2)
"Straight out the fucking dungeons of rap" - Sample from Nas - "N.Y. State of Mind"
“Where fake niggas don't make it back" - Sample from Nas - "N.Y. State of Mind"

[Verse 3: Wiseguy]
Bring it on like battles from Donkey Kong
Hopped my way to the top, bagged the girl, then I’m gone to the next
Level, elevate to new heights. My name in lights: Wise-
-guy the high-scorer, turning the tables on ya
Bring it on if you think you’re strong enough. Man
I bet if I called your bluff, y’all’d hang up. Not me
I’m off-the-hook, so I gets busy. Will Smith’s too
Skinny—they should have picked me. Ali wish he was this pretty
An incredible emcee, Indelible like El-P—ask
J-Treds. We’ll break legs like grade-A eggs
So you’re scrambled to find a better rhyme—impossible. What are you?
Stupid? To fuck with us and Louis is the Logic
Now, when we last left our hero, he was waiting with Mek and Unknown
In the schoolyard at three o’clock, but these cats must have run home
‘Cause no one showed. And, truth be told, what’d you expect? That’s just
Respect. Going up against me is a sucker’s bet

[Verse 4: Gaston]
I free-
-styled last go-‘round. This time, I wrote it down
You know my style. Either way, I’ll hold the crown or still hold it down
But to hold me back takes a nation of millions
“Top Billin,’” make a killing like Jayson Williams
‘Til your heart stop, but I’m not gonna stop ‘til I’m on top
But y'all drop faster than Enron's stock 'cause these
Clumsy niggas tripping, thinking they can touch me
Once we enter, they exit abruptly like Jeff Van Gundy. This goes
For those that spin, asking, “What’s up with Wiseguy
And Gaston? Are they has-beens? They was dope, yo. What happened?
Hope the absence is temporary. Thought they were dead and buried. Their
Skills are legendary, but where’s the record already?
Been holding out forever. I’m getting worried
I’ll tell ya: it’s now or never. You better hurry.” If you’re
Wondering, “How come the album is late?”
I’m just giving you time to get the mixtape straight