Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song C Land I.A., artist - Bone Thugs-N-Harmony.
Date of issue: 03.12.2000
Song language: English
C Land I.A. |
We still from good ol' Cleveland IA |
We blast away, fuck scrapping, the original thugs |
East 99 is where ya find me slangin' me llello daily |
Oh, Cleveland is the city where we come from |
Cleveland is the city where we come from |
We’re still from good ol' Cleveland I. A |
Livin & lastin |
Blast away, fuck scrapping |
Me and my militant minded thug-ass mothafuckin' niggas |
Ya bitch-made mothafucka! |
Let my niggas be niggas |
Figure mutiny on the bounty |
Ain’t no scrutiny, you know how to call when you in the county |
Bitch. |
Goony was half the craft just one of my stud-ies |
You moody-ah, where your Luchi at? |
I know where that poochy’s at, you boochie ass |
Pretty boy, you was a fag |
I think he a fuckin' whiteboy |
I’m a motorcycle |
I was born to ride pscycho |
Baby, I’m even worse than before |
Mom, can I call when I’m lost? |
In a coffin of?? |
hotsauce? |
Finna fall in for sure. |
Roach killas got money for thuggin' niggas |
He don’t got no doja, and sho 'nuff ain’t got no scrilla |
And sho' nuff he don’t got no scrilla told ya |
Helplessly claim that I shorted you out |
Voted you out, closed you out |
Nigga, you know what this business about |
Got my dick in your mouth |
I got my dick in your mouth |
These niggas better duck when I buck my tool |
Nigga, break yo’self, just drop, don’t move |
Nonetheless Flesh must unfold hot, hot Glocks |
Drop, stalkin' gat fools |
Ready to pap you if we have to, I do |
Really don’t know what’s happenin' |
Stack go thuggin' with the killas way back |
Rollin' out, and our goal: to go tripple platinum |
T’s, killas from off St. Clair |
Then all hell’s fin to break loose. |
If you declare war |
I declare war, sendin' my troops, swoop through |
In come nuclear warheads, slay |
I’m sendin' it, yo, when I pull the trigger missles drop |
Then I make your body move, dance hater |
Y’all ain’t ready and steady thinkin' you fuck with the thugs |
Oh damn, you niggas got tons of swift |
Sharp like a double-edged machette |
We rollin' out, heated heavily |
Fifty calliburs and AKs |
No love for the mothafuckin' po po |
Kill 'em all and piss on they fuckin' grave |
Cleveland, better believe it |
We stay thievin' every last evening. |
I’ma retreat |
But proceed with ease |
Leavin' 'em, Cleveland until they go home bleedin' |
Me and hustlas down for the money |
Murder and mayhem |
Where them heartless thugs bail thru the wasteland |
All this damn chronic concoct me out some hellafied Tonic |
See, we be the honest, promise to bring the bomb shit |
Blow you away, put it on my thugs |
Put it on my thugs. |
Yeah, yeah |