| I, promise that I’ll hunt you bastards
|
| Zip 'em in casket, here to get drastic, fast in a hurry
|
| Is you ready for me magic?
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| Let 'em blast, and nigga, better burn
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| Then move, true to the murder mo, gladly
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| 'Cause the haters never had to have me
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| Want to follow fools through alleys
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| 'Cause ready to lose and daddy
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| Who raised me like Layzie, Krayzie
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| Probably St. Clair babies, so hate me
|
| But I handle my business
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| So lately I can handle my shady
|
| Kill 'em, but we think I’ma bomb again
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| No leavin' as they put me in prison and give me time
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| I’m ready for the gun to go get’em
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| And I’m a fill 'em with eleven of mine and one die
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| Is he ready to lie if I decide
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| Lookin' at my killings in his eyes and boom to go bye
|
| I’m gonna fly (fly)
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| Whom die they lie
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| No mo' mercy…
|
| Whom die they lie (Shot)
|
| Now, who wanna go snitch?
|
| Talk shit about real trues, still be payin' dues
|
| Saw them sneakin'
|
| And a nigga gettin' sick of all the playas, they hatin'
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| Why so many fakers runnin' they mouth about shit and they lose
|
| Lookin' so deep eyes, and tell it when they lyin'
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| Stop tryin', but they never convince none
|
| Got hundreds runnin' up with gauges
|
| Still I’m sure they sure they fryin' us, but I buck
|
| Sometimes I save it, for me kill 'em off late at night
|
| So, what if it got too late for me to get 'em?
|
| Then gotta switch to testin' G’s
|
| In this game I aim to keep away from every crazy steady
|
| We’re too quick to pull petty bullshit
|
| Y’all thought that you could fuck with the Cleveland thugstas
|
| #1 fillin' his gun, and I wish you would
|
| Bitch, pop, pop and pump and have to show you through
|
| When Mo' thugs comin' in, it’s a headline
|
| Time to get on top of moff top
|
| When they got on stages all over this nation
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| World, and I plan on
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| Now look at you bustas get mad
|
| Beat the fuckas on their own line
|
| Don’t make 'em tell it to ya twice
|
| When you crack a grip, keep it real
|
| But you should die, pay the price top
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| No mo' mercy…
|
| Whom die they lie (Shot)
|
| Time to stick it for the thugsta, thugsta
|
| Little sneaky muthafucka on a mission
|
| Grind, be plottin' for it quickly
|
| Who fried? |
| Do or die, nigga
|
| You and I for the creep on the come up
|
| And pay these niggas a visit
|
| So is it, was it, wicked ways
|
| Got me strugglin' for days
|
| Hey, a nigga’s gotta eat, so yo
|
| I gotta get paid and blaze
|
| So swift not to catch a case
|
| Crept up in his place
|
| While the nigga was gone for his safe
|
| And his stones, and it’s on
|
| Cause the Bones havin' a say
|
| I won’t forget this evenin'
|
| Nigga had thief, Little Layzie Bone
|
| Thievin', cause he had cameras hid off into his ceiling
|
| Pin me, niggas run away
|
| They said they lookin' for me
|
| But I’m a find a nigga killin' before this nigga find me
|
| Y’all niggas know a murder-bound city
|
| See me when I’m servin' now, parlay it down
|
| Breakin' it down in the C-Town
|
| Spot 'em on the avenue, follow him passin' through
|
| Get 'em at the next red light, green light
|
| Got the go ahead, infrared on your forehead
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| No mo' mercy…
|
| Whom die they lie (Shot)
|
| I’m that nigga with the shot and, red-hand
|
| Answerin' niggas, poppin' enemy
|
| Drop 'em
|
| Me gotta get 'em
|
| Kill 'em before they get the coppers on us
|
| And you know the bitches want us
|
| But as soon as they close, it’s the pap pap, pardon me
|
| Take a look, and what you see;
|
| Krayzie still runnin' from the police
|
| 'Cause I got a fuckin' bag of weed
|
| I’ll be leavin' sale now on the scene
|
| I can do it, I can kill 'em if he gotta be a casualty
|
| He after me, but I’m a put a bullet through your head
|
| Shoulda fled, but you didn’t, so bye-bye
|
| Take 'em a couple a days to get your body outta the sea
|
| Meet your fuckin' fate and in grave lay
|
| St. Clair, Wasteland, all my niggas comin'
|
| Oh but they can’t take it, if you wanna make it
|
| Break 'em, hey, or can’t a nigga get paid
|
| Or your fuckin' with some niggas in some desperate days
|
| Crime, yes, it pays, if it’s cool with it, cool with it
|
| Never act a fool with it, broad, cause your losin' me
|
| Tell a muthafuckin' nigga, cause a nigga told another nigga
|
| «I know who did it»
|
| Rollin' with the thuggish bunch of all
|
| Testin' nuts, and, nigga, we’ll cut your balls
|
| It’s Mr. Sawed-off, Sawed-off
|
| Whom die, die, whom die, die, they lie
|
| Whom die they lie
|
| No mo' mercy…
|
| Whom die they lie (Shot) |