| Nigga, we doing this shit from Cleveland to L. A
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| Nigga whatever you niggas want, we bringin' it!
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| Thug Luv, nigga. |
| What time is it?
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| Yo, I don’t give a fuck where you lay at
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| Nigga, it’s time to slay these bitch-made niggas!
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| POP POP, run with us, run with us, run with us!
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| POP POP, run with us, Pac and Rip with Thug Luv
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| They ain’t even knowing what type of niggas we is
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| Where my thugs at? |
| Bone thugs-n-harmony
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| I know you niggas been waiting for this for a long time
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| Well, here it is, nigga. |
| Here it is. |
| What you gonna do with it?
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| Well, it must be close to the Armageddon, Lord
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| You know that I won’t fly by that lesson
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| You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
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| And I’m not stressing it softly
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| Get 'em up off me, 'cause all we
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| Wanted was harmony, been bombing em
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| Yell up out of my ghetto, I won’t settle, get on my level
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| They can’t stop me and pop me
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| Nigga, they got me? |
| Fuck no
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| Little Pac gets schizophrenic, and manage to damage all y’all
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| I’ll talk about 'em, and you don’t really want it
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| 'Cause they’re cornered, and I’m want 'em to not jump
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| I’d rather say that we came to shut 'em all down
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| So quick to test, bullet, yes, declare war
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| Roll, I’ll flow when I get the gun for the murder
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| Mo' horror! |
| Why? |
| They did it all, pause for the cause
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| And I finna to pull a 9 or pistol, and lit a nigga with mine
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| Fuck them niggas, it’s on
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| All y’all fall! |
| Bizzy getting bitches to test me
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| Bless the floor, and any attempt to arrest me, stress me
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| Lord, looking at death with the last of my breath
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| Follow, follow, my kids!
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| No, don’t sin in my steps!
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| Yet the weapon is kept with the best of my secrets
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| Deep in the reach, I’m alone. |
| Nigga believe
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| That I can see it, if needed, and if you really with me
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| And well then let it be, get the greens and we running up over Cleveland
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| Ha, ha! |
| What’s poppin', nigga?
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| Put your muthafucking hands on your strap, nigga
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| Thug Luv, nigga. |
| Yeah, we can do this like gangstas and slug it out
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| Or do this like punks and punk it out
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| Pull your strap on me, nigga, you better kill me!
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| Thug Luv, nigga. |
| Thug life, baby. |
| Thug Luv
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| I’ll probably be punished for hard living, blind to the facts:
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| Thugs is convicts in God’s prison, hands on the strap
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| Praying so Father please forgive me!
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| Police be rushing when they see me
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| I flaunt it: America’s Most Wanted, live on T. V
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| Life: pleasure and pain, stuck in this game, holler my name!
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| We all gon' die, we bleed through similar veins
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| Please explain to me, now. |
| Don’t panic when my guns burst
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| Heard the last jam, nigga? |
| This one’s worse!
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| My nigga Bone held the chrome 'til I came home
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| Thug Luv players tell these bitch niggas «bring it on»
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| I caught a plane out to Cleveland late last evening
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| To help my niggas clean up some niggas no longer breathin'
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| Now, who do you believe in? |
| Hit the weed and breathe
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| It’s a cold-ass world; |
| niggas kill you in your sleep
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| Watch me until they stop me, bury, murder me or drop me
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| I got Thug Luv for my nationwide posse. |
| Feel me!
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| Little thug from the Land, nigga, never ran
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| Muthafuckas out to get me. |
| They don’t understand
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| It’s the #1 nigga out with a nation of niggas
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| Down to put it some work and do some dirt
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| Fuckin' around with the band Bone Thugs-n-Harmony
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| Follow down the road, we stroll to meet karma
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| Everything I do, it seem to cause drama
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| Ready for the war like a knight in my armor, bomb ya!
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| So quick to test us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust
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| For the love of the lust, niggas busting on us
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| Hit 'em up with the buck, 12-gauge eruptions!
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| It’s the Art of War, putting niggas on the floor
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| When I’m coming through the door, bringing nothing but terror
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| Causing much pain to the nigga that dared us
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| Tried to put a twist in this thugsta era
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| Paired up with a nigga like Pac
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| And a nigga like me gotta stay high
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| Thug luv 'til I die, keep my prayer to the sky
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| But I’m still in the hood, smoke and fry
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| So I beg the Lord save us all: escapers of misery
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| Bless my niggas in penitentiaries, soldiers of the century, yeah
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| Here to get it, told my niggas they need get the hell
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| Down with the dirt, and we don’t fuck around |
| Buck a couple a rounds, and if your passing through
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| Then hit the ground and don’t get caught up in the crossfire, nigga
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| Artillery thick, and you don’t wanna get to fucking with this
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| I’m straight devil, not a punk and pretend
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| I reload, buck a little mo'
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| Flee the scene 'fore the po-po even know
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| «So, who ya looking for?» |
| They don’t know!
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| A mothafucka with a leatherface
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| Hey, man, she said I ran this way, said I ran that a way
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| Ya hoes’ll never know because I got away
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| A criminal mind to keep a nigga on the level
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| Sometimes I get high and analyze your crime
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| Correctly organized and with results, you’ll be surprised
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| Oh, nigga, can you feel the vibe? |
| We can ride
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| Playa hating niggas, you got to die, it’s only right
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| It’s over with Bone, better leave it alone
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| Mo Thugs come crack their fuckin' domes
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| Still in the hood, where the thugs play
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| Fuckin' with nothing but thugs, mane
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| Ain’t taking no shorts or no losses
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| We cracking them domes around my way
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| Give it to 'em on another level, nigga, get a shovel
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| You can dig a hole; |
| bitches is dead!
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| Infrared to your head. |
| You can beg, you go fled
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| But still gonna bleed bloody red
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| Fuck with mine, we’ll be seen in the moonlight
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| 'Cause we out riding, looking for you
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| Better run for cover, nigga, duck!
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| We about to bust, Straight got the infrared, put it on his forehead
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| Makes a move, send flowers straight to his home
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| Put a card in the muthafucka, send it to his mama
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| Tell her he was dead wrong, dead wrong
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| Now he long gone, long gone
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| POP POP, run with us, run with us, run with us!
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| POP POP, run with us, Pac and Rip with Thug Luv |