"I can break it down like whatever you want"

	-> Buckshot Shorty  (2x)



Verse 1:



All glocks down arriving is the bulletproof lyricist

R rood boy big up now here this

I'm clasic like a coca cola why don't you roll a "L"

And make it spiffy are the "L"s twisty oh yes lets get lifty

Long lived the rugged female Heather B.

So all you gun waving niggas put down your glocks please

No need for playing the hard anymore

The bulletproof lyricist is knocking at your door

So open up let me in lets get nasty if you wanna

I'll freak dat butt like a filt by Heather Hunter

Touch you touch you I might just buss you

Buss your shit MC turned ? eastcoast kid

How I swing bounce to brooklyn

No need to tell you what I part took in

Just know Heather B. is back in town

Its no question all glocks down



Chorus:     Glocks down, hit'em with that funky sound

I can break it down like whatever you want  (say 4x)



Verse 2:



Walking with middle finger up brown tims steppin' through

Coming soon to a corner spot near you

Its the side walkin' rap talkin' hip hop sister

No need to try me misss-ter

You got rhymes go for it we need no chorus

Freestyles comin' from da door

And who's testin' the untestable styles flexible

You gonna haveta bounce twelve rounds

TKO by the third fuck what you heard

I didn't feel like playing around 

Cuz you's part-time witha part rhyme committing no crimes

And claiming to be hard on the block

So feel my funk my beat my vibe 

Recognize that i'm live or alive you know the time  

Kid just raise up rise up open your eyes up

I already got you sized up so wise up BITCH

A "L" to the neck a double duece I'm best

And now my mind set I'll be rowdy through the death

Due us part on love rock crew right here in heart

don't even play me son you'll get did done 

Turnin' all gats or guns i'll leave you shorty with her hair undone

And then you know Heather B. is back in town

So no question all glocks down



Chorus



Verse 3:

I got my peeps to my left side and then my right

Can't wait until tonight when real niggas turn trife

I love the orange light from the dutch master tip

My whole crew bent a half a hunned gone spit

Chocolate tay true dat yo who him who dat

Snatchin' up da "L" like a snipher

Son you will surely miss the next cipher

If you ever tryta hog up the "L" again

Last one to put in first son to dig in

Now I hear you riffin' me while I'm countin' your toke

The henloke burns my throat with no jaser

I'm feelin vibes by my hip from the black pager

Blowin' up for da nine four for da nine five

For da nine square either way say word word

Heather B. is in there to the most high 

To the most def no quest all glock down



Chorus