(feat. PMD)



[PMD]

Yeah, whatchu want, whatchu want

Ay Chris Lowe yo

Why don't you step to the mic and bless 'em with a jewel

Representin two-oh-three style, y'knahwhatImean?

Hit 'em in the head



[Chris Lowe]

Listen, to the situation my son

Lowe serious as cancer, all foes is done

with these beats, you got 'em from me

Now you can tell I been around since the JVC

I bring it back, the skull snap rap

The real rhythm on the real rap track

People think, the streets, as far as I see

Your boulevard look hard but it's easy for me

Livin out in C-T, who the hell I be

Chris L-O-W-E that's me

Cool with the riffin, guys keep a handle

If you don't you get waxed like you a candle

Behind closed doors, I schemed on yours

Came back, haunted you and shocked your drawers

And then the time slid, like I did a quick bid

What go around come around like I'm doin right now



[Chorus]

Buckwhylin, buckwhylin, buckwhylin, buckwhylin



[PMD]

Yo so check the C-T, 203 that's when you catch P

Straight ballin, big up New Haven, where I roll strictly

My shit so raw like cocaine you wanna sniff me

My dick be, hard to spit so don't piss me

off, you and your crew, soft

You get knocked off, you crossed the God, "Rugged & Raw"

I'm warnin you all, big fat tall or small

Guns or brawls, could walk away like fuck you all



[Chris Lowe]

You can call me Chris Lowe, but I'm a top biller

Part time dealer, permanent killer

You know it get ill on the shank it's for the scrilla

Ha, I'm like the rest of the best, I'm a thriller

See now you look like you lost, and you lost to me

Action, try to find a way to start to relaxin

Relaxin, you can look but you ain't seein for me

Not 'less I got a hustle or muscle with P

Some people shocked and amazed at who I am

From Sleeping Bag cut short at Def Jam

You can see me chillin ain't no skin off my back

Me and Chuck Chillout, watch the funk spill out

Through the speaker, feel it down in your sneaker

You jump to the thump like a Reebok pump

Lowe whylin



[Chorus]



[Chris Lowe]

Pay attention while I rock the beat, one time

Pay attention while I be rockin the jam

I need a scratch - now my batteries is bangin

My raps {?} raps with no explainin

You can fly high, hope you don't die

You know I'm the type to make the player hater cry

Lookin up to me, what you think they see?

The fresh fantastic fly funky MC

C'mon, even the score, sound you a door

Only got one album, hope I get one more

So, please, take the rhymes like these

The beats is red hot like a hundred degrees

Son duke, this ain't a fluke

So believe me when I tell you don't pull out if you ain't gon' shoot

You look nervous, might as well join the circus

Yo you need the discipline, trouble the shit you in

Go whylin



[Chorus x2]