Krayzie:
Shoot, shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up
Shoot, shoot, shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up.
Twelve gauges bust up in ya. Playa haters, we be quick to pin ya.
You know we know you don't wanna roll,
'cuz when we give it to ya, we're gonna bring it to ya. Oh, yeah.

Layzie:
Right off the jump, ooh, now I gotsta let you know when you see me runnin', rollin' with them big shotguns, and we deep when we creep, never sleepin' and we droppin' them whammies on fools, who wanna get done and numb. Now, that you know like that. These niggas come around; they don't know how to act. In fact, I'm at the track in the back with a couple of my cats in the hood, smokin' weed and up to no good, Red Dog in the trunk, and we rollin' that. Bank, slang that pound on over to your thugs, so me and the rest of these thugs can marinade, marinade. We straight. Get high, so high, that's how my mental, that's how my mental state is like. Parlay, parlay, like everyday. Don't think I don't pin, playa hation, but ya better pinnin' yourself, or contend with the M-11, .357 automatic weapons from my shelf. The niggas wanna take my health and wealth, check yourself, tryin' to contend, but they couldn't win. You took it to the head with a fifth of Hen, now we in to win. Five-hundred Benz, oh, we roll, roll. Drop the top, and lock the locks, cock the glock, 'bout to hit this corner, livin' like a thug on the real. Who's stronger when I put it on ya, on ya? All playa haters goners.

Krayzie:
Murder, mo murda, mo murda, mo murda them all. They fall. They fall. Buck. Buck. Oh, yeah. Niggas they get it then pissed off, and a, and a to **** with the wrong mutha****as. They fall quick when we buck, bitch, ooh, because I'm gonna put you back into your trunk quick. Hey, that fo'-fo' magnum, gon' have to learn ain't no nigga badder, .357 put that ass in the matter of executions. I'll be shootin' rounds. He runnin' off at your mouth. You plot me, 'cause you rush me, rush me, rush me. My nigga, we know what you're thinkin' 'bout, but bitch, if you run up and try me, I'm comin' up outta me street with some shit that be keepin' you runnin' and wonderin' whatever happened for sure--they lit him up good. And you still find me. Where? [You know we bull****.] East 99, drugdealers and po-pos. Yeah, that's the Clair. (Bone runnin' back to Mo'/Mo' murda murda mo'), and that's Cleveland, Cleveland. You know we thuggin' and theivin', theivin'. If somebody got beef, we got millions done made. I rollin' thug records for ya, see my nigga, eternal with nothin' to lose. And bitch, if ya try me, anybody might just spray on bodies, tryin' to get outta the room. If I could just look up and see haters dyin' and flip up my mind, and whenever you think I'm quiet, I get passed on the ride, right bang. That's way ya get 'em, man, get 'em, man; get 'em, man. Sneak up on 'em, and you kill 'em, and they won't **** with ya no more. You havin' a party, and the weed goin' up in your body. Smokers, chill. My niggas they done got me sloppy. High, oh, so, so high.

Wish:
Come on, come on, don't be shy. Let's get high.

Krayzie:
We got the herb.

Wish:
If you want some, want some. We got weed indeed. You need some, need some? Aw, yeah. I know this just might sound crazy, but lately gotta roll with my gun, 'cause the haters they hate me, when they heard that nigga, Bone. Nigga, somehow, someway get paid, and quit playa hatin'. That buck to the bang, everything I got I got 'cause we rhyme, (thai/tie) rhyme. Had to thug it out, but it came in time, just in time. And you give it to me, my thugs gon' give it you, either we go back to school, somebody's head gon' get blown. Bone, won't ya pass up now?, hey, hey, hey, blowin' up your face with your pistols and get with that buck to the bang, bang, bang. Nigga wanna roll with Bone, it's on, and nigga, we cool, we cool. Don't forget: playa haters get that buck to the bang all up in that body. Got 'em, got 'em. We won't be slippin'. We just might be peepin' you all the time. I'm comin'. I'm gunnin', and I put that on the double nine.

Bizzy:
Shoot 'em up always, hate when I break you off and you loss and make it look to forcing. Let there be coffins for all of your offspring, now. Let there be coffins for all of your offspring for the police on the corner, creepin' up, here comes them soldiers. Pullin' up, better watch one of them St. Clair niggas. Put it in a gutter, put it off and dozed ya. Really know ya shoot 'em up and me jumpin' up out your ****, you runnin' with a gang of bitches for you, ready when I'm ready to do it you. being my thang with a buck, buck to smoke jane, it's often to say that they niggas was bull****tin', and the Bizzy maintain. Nigga, this the Northcoast homie. That city where the St. Clair niggas sell dope. I hear police. Roll deep in the set, see none of us scared, and we show that it's on, bitch. Bang. You feel the pitch of my trigger finger's a bitch. I done put it down with-a my click, and stood on my own, it's still Flesh. And I rest on the nine, I'll be ****in' with y'all. slanging my dogs in them bowls Niggas be Ancient Little Bizzy, but it's all good, I still roll. And I know when ya roll, no snatchin' our souls with the Bone, we can show it, and since I'm a flow, and it's all ah run up on my niggas, I figured I'd let 'em all know it. Playas takin' up off the style, but if you think I'm scared, you're dead wrong bet you think when I bring you down.

Krayzie:
Shoot, shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up. Shoot 'em up.
Twelve gauges bust up in ya. Playa haters, we be quick to pin ya.
You know we know you don't wanna roll,
'cuz when we give it to ya, we're gonna bring it to ya. Oh, yeah.



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1997-1998
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