 Krayzie:
Fuck 'em, let the law end, 'cause we simply get the raw end.
Coffins open, dump 'em all in.
Krayzie:
Nine millimeters, three-eighty's, you're feelin' me kill 'em, 'cause I go
with plenty artillery, cover your shit, there'll be gauges and uzis. Let us
begin with bullets, (can't none of they) break out the niggas from prison
and let 'em come with us--retaliation. We come and blast 'em with
leather masks on. Let loose.
Wish:
You need beware when your rollin' down the Clair. These niggas is
killas, try to feel us thuggish ruggish niggas from Cleveland. We steadily
creepin' on ya, and you better believe that we bring that pap-pap to your
doorstep, ho-check, you don't wanna fuck with Bone. Let loose.
Layzie:
Nigga, bulletproof, if a muthafucka pull it, then he better shoot. Nigga
never no 9-1-1 to your rescue, never repsect you, blowin' your chest
through. Labelled as a menace, but I'm feelin' (?) and I'm in it to the
finish, better check my manuscript. Killa, for realer, drugdealer, little
nigga, cap peeler, bailin' through the Land equipped. When I grips the
grip, pump, shot it, shot it, jump off in my hottie. Nigga lodi dodi, rollin'
through your party, fin to show you this Mo Thug bomber, yeah.
Bizzy:
When I storm my cause up outta (?), get me, badge. War anytime I (?).
Come with the war, then you're gonna get yours, expect the four, nigga
bring your (?), and don't you (?) and I finish you with it or you would
missed it. On the hit list, couldn't resist it, nigga, you risk it, here to stick
with it. To the po-po, you-know-who don't roll in a sixty-fo' Impala go,
lurk, better searchin' all the doors, runnin' 'til I (found Mexico). Go,
nigga, Bizzy Bone, the story of a warrior with (?). Little Rip gets so
sadistic it's story of . . .
Krayzie:
Killin' for my niggas (steady got up in the pen, depend on me, let 'em
leave. Well, we better flee), set 'em all free, give up the game, but I love
the way the thugstas stay, and when our niggas really get to poppin' at the
cops, you'll be lookin' at a hell of a war. Muthafucka done rocked the
boat, and we nigga fin to even the score. Nigga (?). No surrender, no
you're never gonna catch me, never gonna catch me, catch me. I'll keep
runnin', I'll keep runnin' for my life, and duckin' bullets while you're
tryin' to ruin me. 'Quicker the copper, the quicker my niggas'll pull up
and drop ya. We shot ya. We shot ya. Hey, my niggas boxed ya.
Flesh:
My nigga, we all in together in position for the maulin', Pac got his got
headlight ahead of me, keep me raw, and fuck it, let the law end, open the
coffin, top locked, let the body fall in. Quit doggin' all the juice, runnin'
loose for my crew. Oh, what I'm gonna do is take a bite of the forbidden
fruit and (never seen us) shoot. If I could be the 187 on you.
Flesh-n-Bone got the chrome, and it's on, for the next that get wrong.
(Here's my TEC, and it's on) they they won't disrespect, then sleep with
the rest. Don't even expect, 'cause you ain't goin' home. Who's next?
Bring it on, whoever wanna flex, think it no thang for me get with you,
all up in your shit, quick when I split up your wig, your brain gon' hang.
Krayzie:
Fuck 'em, let the law end, 'cause we simply get the raw end.
Coffins open, dump 'em all in.
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