Tekstovi: Buddha Monk. Zu Chronicles Vol2: Like Father, Like Son. Watchin' Me.

[Popa Chief:]
Stay off the radar, banging with the guitar
Better ya sit to par, Duc Lo in the strip bar
I bumped into this dancing chick and her name was Caviar
Only richer cause I knew star
From the bottom of my shot glass, saw more than ass
Zoom, reaching for his cash or his gun in his bag
Sometimes I feel like somebody's watchin' me
Got a trick for a proof, disappear on the same slang on 'em
Bang on 'em, get ghetto James Bond on 'em
I ain't seen nothing, I ain't heard nothing
First thing, don't let 'em know, know last name is nothing

[Dungeon Masta:]
Eh-yo here's the situation, my name is Joe Ski
Rap niggaz hating, I won't face defeat
Parasites waiting to deflate me of energy
Running, hunting a V, in my vest with no fee
Was gonna get the trees, stay on point for the enemy
Death to the mothafuckas, niggaz ain't shit to me
I can't afford to go back, man
Talk so much beef so what you kidnap him
Hogtie him and duct tape him
And if you try to catch me I'm escaping
The D.A. don't want me in music
Like the way they locked me down in the drug game

[Chorus x2: Buddha Monk]
I always feel like somebody's watchin' me
And I ain't got no privacy... ohh ohh ohh
I always feel like somebody's watchin' me
Oh tell me who can it be? Ohh ohh ohh

[Silkski:]
My patience is gone, know where is he?
An eye for an eye means a new identity
Fingertips cut cause the feds are befriending me
Fifth to the rib cause it won't be the end of me
Stash a leaf in the bulletproof
Grab the heat in my shining Brooklyn Zu
Sound like my faith is gonna die from my infrared
Cause we all little shivers or bullets scared
Oriental mocassins cover my feet
Skimasks, vests, black gloves and gold teeth
Still scoping a nigga from across the street
But once again, feeling the agony of defeat

[Buddha Monk:]
I was raised where it's drawn
F.B.I. got taps on our phone, rats in our homes
Slugs worth life time, knife work, three consecutive nines
Fight scenes, grateful for mines
I'm Duc Lo, giving songs of Picasso
Still watching my house from crime mafia boats
Now more horsey, more horsey
Partner you ain't got no wins in mi casa
Your land of the dreams ain't nothing but dreams
Get up off yo' ass and get that C.R.E.A.M.
M.O.B., nigga, money over bitches
Snitches get lifted, clipped from ya slipping

[Chorus]