[Krayzie Bone]
Don`t niggas don`t wanna start shit,
Buck, buck to the bang,
Sendin` bullets to the brain, nigga, yeah
A nigga that always at my city with me,
now, who was that nigga they put in the plastic?
Nigga that thought he could bang.
That nigga`s stuck.
That nigga`s blasted.
They got my man from the Land.
Never ran, I step with deadly men.
If ya come a little bit closer,
I can turn you into sand.
Now follow me, now roll, stroll down to Cleveland.
We thuggin`, we theivin`, we put it in deep,
and the blood is seepin`.
Got niggas in alleys,
fuck niggas in badges.
We say bang.
Eighty-eight through the ten-five (and Clair)
St. Clair ain`t shit to fuck with.
Pumpin`, Krayzie be bumpin`, dumpin` the bloody body.
Me never knew one that could flow with the tongue.
We comin` to shoot up your posse.
My niggas-they comin` up out the woods,
to get the goods.
Krayzie be thug, and (want to) die-that`s from comin` up in my hood.
We killas. Get a gat, pap, pap, clack back me gun,
bust one, they done.
Cleveland is where we from.
Hearts-thugs have none.
Chorus: (2x)
High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off,
there`s really no place to run.
Niggas get vicious with my click,
`cause even the bitches carry guns.
[Bizzy Bone]
Soon as I hit the scene, ????
feelin` for a pistol,
but I didn`t have no gun.
Come with original thugsta shit.
I be flippin` it with me tongue.
Nigga, Cleveland is the city where we come from,
and I show them hoes up outta the Clair that thugs don`t run from none.
Follow rip one, now, on and on,
them definitely got me back.
And I`m throwin` up St. Clair thugsta niggas,
with or without my gat.
Forever be ready to pull out me murder tools East 99 style, fools.
Me put it in mind on murderin` you,
followin` whenever me murderous trues.
Niggas that claim to bang bang,
when it comes to slang thangs, they do.
They know they cannot buck me,
one of `em sure to slug me,
but they hope the thug I be, Bizzy.
Better let `em him be or they`ll see.
Nigga, hangin`, swangin`, never to miss. The Biz is me.
Chorus (2x)
[Layzie]
Livin` in the Land of the Heartless,
with a sawed-off pump, shootin` craps.
Hand on my strap, roll thick, `cause they jack.
Runnin` up on the Bone, you needin` to be pap pap.
Soldier thugs be pumpin` them slugs,
defendin` they drugs.
When they roll up,
niggas be creepin` up slow,
heavy packed with they gats,
and try to pull a hold up,
but nigga, now hold on.
Wanna test the Bone?
The gauge is shown.
Any is mind blown,
lookin` down the barrel of this mausberg chrome to the dome.
Bone, clack back me gauge in a rage,
copper take these here rocks.
Double glock,
my pistols be pumpin` and buckin` out shots whenever
the trouble knocks.
Steadily hittin`, me clean up,
get lit up for ready your soul to burn,
and I blow your shit up, get `em on the get up,
cause niggas must learn.
Yearnin` to earn cheese.
Ready to die, so niggas can`t take these.
Wantin` to clock G`s, want to move keys,
not takin` a loss on my green leaves, please.
East nine nine, crime finds mine,
strayin` on this road to hell,
and prison walls, testin` balls,
for the cause, gotta get that sale,
and bailin`, kickin` up mud, rollin`,
I get with my thugs.
Rippin` apart shit, so nigga, don`t start shit,
cause we kill in the Land of the Heartless, Die.
Chorus (4x)
