Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Land of Tha Heartless, artist - Bone Thugs-N-Harmony. Date of issue: 24.07.1995
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Land of Tha Heartless |
| 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 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 killers, get a gat, pap, pap, clack back me gun |
| Bust one, they done |
| Cleveland is where we from |
| Hearts-thugs have none |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Soon as I hit the scene (setting) |
| Feelin' for the 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| 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 Mossberg 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |
| Hi-tecs 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 |