| For the ghetto media
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| Don’t let the light skin fool y’all
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| I will fuck you up Chorus: Bizzy Bone
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| This is what it sounds like, when thugz cry (3X)
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| This is what it sounds like
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| when thugz cry, when thugz cry
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| This is what it sounds like, when thugz cry (4X)
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| This is what it sounds like
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| when thugz cry, when thugz cry
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| Verse One: Bizzy Bone
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| Nigga we represent the planet get schizophrenic n panic
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| Maybe the past would understand
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| If they’d get off there ass and mash
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| How do you manage?
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| Paranoid, don’t even trust my boyz
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| Watch for the plot and delays envoys
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| Scopin like a dope fiend
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| But I’m smokin in the alleyz
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| With these ghetto guns and erase my funds
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| Watts niggas in Cali take bullets to the brain
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| Still rowdy, Jesus really never died
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| You crucified mutual suicide, who am I?
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| Local with vocals going coast to coast
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| Heaven’ll move me right fo sho
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| Deception weather my brethren
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| but sunny days when they parlay
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| Get killed when they get to steppin
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| Member the wepon’s close
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| and the doctor said
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| I need time to myself on the ocean
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| Those frivolous thoughts
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| But I’m brought up of this independent
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| Caught up sever relentless
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| Evil intentions nobody knows him
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| Even the henchmen warrior, poet,
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| never did mention
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| I love my lady rebel
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| We can get this stroke on, we can get this stroke on,
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| and we can get this stroke on, and we can get this stroke on.
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| Verse Two: Bizzy Bone
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| We keepin the light on at Ruthless and
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| I ain’t fuckin the boss
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| lookin at me sexy
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| Take your clothes off
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| but my dick’ll go soft!
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| Never mix bussiness with your sickness
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| Enemy see me flipin in the picnic
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| with your lil’divide and conquer
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| but my sister was ready to bomb her!
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| Get off the dizznik and off my voice
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| Me and my boyz
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| Give us a choice
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| How could you tell Sony that i was the
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| only one making noise
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| Ain’t it a breech of trust
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| Look in the gutter, unh, never judge yo book
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| by it’s cover word to the motherfucka
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| I… I didn’t stutter but what if I lost it and
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| came in the office and nobody noticed
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| with liquid explosive on top of Versace
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| clothes give up the ghost
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| Krayzie’s Picasso, lil’Layzie like Caesar,
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| Stacks like lil’Pesi N Casino and
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| Wish don’t give a fuck! |
| O
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| I’m Gambino -n- the walkin dead
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| Woke up on the wrong side of the bed
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| Bible of survival Triple six rivals, triple six rivals
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| Member you said I read but rode with
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| Killas, Niggas that’ll bust in tha club you don’t
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| feels us strapped in the bed
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| Strapped pickin up the kids in the realist,
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| the realist, the realist, the realist.
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| Verse Three: Bizzy Bone
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| It’ll make your body shake when it’s too late soon as you flipped off the saftey baby this we all day
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| Don’t tell me you crazy
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| Will they sell me? |
| Hell Naw!
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| For the reason this weepin widow be the demon
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| so cheap and at least she go peepin go peep deep
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| dead in yo pockets no sleep
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| Rollin with my crucifix Lucifer usually uses
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| the rule of these wicked tricks in the school
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| of these ghetto games and the fool of this bitch mist
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| I say shame, shame, shame.
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| Enemies attacking me Actually I’m in the grain ask Mr. Majesty
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| These casualties well they’re passin me by but I hear death callin when it’s so cold in the room
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| who’s stalling better come after me We say fuck y’all
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| all in the battle we, battle we, battle we.
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz
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| When thugz cry |