Layzie
Creepin` up outta the woods, gotta give love to my hood. Smoke, and I choke, and I creep on ah come up. Niggas be tryin` run up, but I bust, and they drop to their death. Now they done up. Gun up, hunt my blunt up. Creepin` `til sun up, feelin` slightly shady. Call me lightweight crazy #1 nigga little Layzie. Nigga don`t wanna faint, runnin` deadly thugsta soldiers, droppin` them thangs. Bone done told you. Testin` nuts, so a nigga gonna have to show you. Faded a nigga that stepped up, then slipped in some shit. Seen `em all`s just stood up then put a foot up that ass, had to blast that clique-clique. Sprayed the gauge, all cocked, and ready to spray down to the pave`. Puttin` them souls up off up in a grave, dwell in hell, they`ll all lay slain. Amazed, must I blaze. It`s insane when I take that bud to the brain. Toke, choke, hold in me smoke until-a-me strained, feelin` no pain. Better be packin` your weapon, `cause my shit is kept and I`m ready to let loose sawed-off hangin`, danglin` up under the trench,
finna blow that chest through, you should`ve wore a vest fool. `Cause the Bone don`t front. Nigga check or get wrecked. Got Flesh on the set, with his finger on a TEC. Loc`d out with the khakis and high-techs. Respect them St. Clair thugs hustlin` drugs, gotta make that money man. Rap be the thang, and the fact remains that we house that rap game.
Bang-bang, gotta get down foe my thang. (Bone be me gang.) [*2]
Flesh
Well what do ya know hoes, and the bigger Bone that`s known for gettin` his swerve on. And kickin` it on the stage. Off in a raid gettin` my serve on. So, leave `em alone. They come. They need to be shown that Bone done chrome-blown, lay slugs up in to them domes, so go on. You`d better go run a ho check, if you wanna test nuts with Flesh, I`m fin` to lynch ya, mo murda! You`re runnin` up eye to eye with death. Face to face, now nevertheless you`re takin` a loss, and this slug snuffed up, and dumpin` the body up off in a coffin. Remember the vow said a preacher, me teach `em, greetin` `em with me nine. Runnin` with thugs and hustlas and murderin` `em every time.
Layzie
Bang-bang, gotta get down foe my thang. (Bone be me gang.) [*4]
Bizzy
Remember the Ripsta, sinster creeper, rippin` up that set with a street-sweeper. Gotta take a breather from sippin` me liter. Rippin` that flesh when I sneak with a meat cleaver. When I`m in me smugsta, never the studio thugsta. Buck `em! Buck `em! Muthafuck `em. Thug never done bluff and fuck them bustas. So back up off me. No Stack won`t let me slip. When a nigga start to step, then wet `em, put `em in the graveyard. Bitch, better buy your vest, then test Rest, the Ripsta quick to pick up the hollow points and put `em up in your brains, nigga. My little nigga, Mo! Hart, my bigger nigga, Sin. Dash fast, get `em up with the block at last blast they ass, pass cash, then stash, me can killa for free for homies and family. Tell `em to see me, that realer nigga, the Ripsta, put `em in rivers. It don`t stop. Drop P`s to the S-C-T`s and double glock. Pop, pop! Here`s the slug from the twelve-gauge thug. You don`t want fuck with, nor buck with, Rip`s breakin` on bustas. Blood, me feelin` `em like it hurts. Me murder
. I show no mercy. Turn your back, clack back me gat, diggin` `em in the dirt, see?
Krayzie
Get ready to duck, bitch, or get fucked up! They never could fuck with me sawed-off pump. Bitch if I`m flippin` or load my clip in, nigga, y`all all fucked. Gotta make my money, slippin` me pump in me trench, and then click it. Now, nigga this rippin`, steady clippin`, not missin`, thuggin` with me clique. And now Leathaface takin` your life so you best stay back, tossin` the rest in a coffin, `cause niggas be runnin` up, talkin` trash. Buck a guard while walkin` past. Bang-bang, gotta get down foe my thang, and I claim and hang with thieves. Niggas that make cheese for the green leaves. Gotta give P`s, `cause they swang these. Come nigga, meet my hood and found nothin` but thugs and hustlas. Sin never been no busta, he`ll stuff and buck-buck `em and dump `em, bitch. Nigga, muthafuck `em! Krayzie don`t love `em, put `em to rest and run so the po-po don`t catch up. Nigga can`t be arrested. One M-11, me sendin` niggas to hell, and you`re felon, 187. Eleven dwellin` better from the cell, and nigga that pick up M
ossberg, the quicker you get to the curb. Put one to the temple. Pump to Mr. Policeman, that`s all you heard.
Layzie
Bang-bang, gotta get down foe my thang. (Bone be me gang.) [*4]
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang…
Gotta get down foe my thang, gotta get down foe my thang [*13]
Bone—always will
