Let it go. (Let this angel go...) Let yourself go. (Time was passin' till the cops come) Big beef. (Make me safe) Big beefin' with the mistress. (Runnin' runnin' runnin') On the backs of the lines as we grind, motherfucker. We are livin' in the last motherfuckin' days. This is Revelations. If it don't go down now, that mean' the Bible was wrong. Can you face yourself with that question, or the answer? What the fuck do you believe in?
Bizzy Bone
Say goodbye to the bad guy/ Zero up with my cateye, Dad I ain't afraid to flame the rythm/ Holler! Holler! I fathom/ My album hit the shelves, we hustle for record sales/ Hit my liquor store, let my niggas learn about in jail till Swat cars accell/ Assume the position as we yell "This is some bullshit" like pitbulls in the pulpit/ Make note of it/ Load up my bullets, to hell if they ain't factioned/ LA looters throw your mask on, Gambini got his mash on, I'm military blastin'
Puff Daddy
I'm married to the game and every year's the same, bullets riegn all season/ Heaven and Hell is only what you believe in/ Empty the shells if niggas give you the reason/ Never was the type to be stuck in duckin' and weavin' climbin' breathin'/ My story's no fairy tale, rich niggas in every cell/ From my block to the world, gave the glock to my girl/ Don't mix the kids with the biz, baby, the industry's hell worth it
-Chorus-Bizzy-
Warfare, oh yeah, when they sure come lock you down (Warfare... Don't let it come our way)
Puff Daddy (Bad Boy)
>Look in they grill and get the real, cause expressions can mean alot/ Threw my trust in your progress/ And you guessin' I seen alot/ The paper got us dressin' and impressin', we spend alot/ Confessions get us blessings from the Lord, we sin a lot/ Wonder will He let me in? Constantly tryin' to find a reason why/ Because I'm a Bad Boy they wanna label me a bad guy/ Now who am I? (It's P. Diddy motherfucker) Do or die? (Don't give a fuck motherfucker)
Bizzy Bone
Well, don't trust no chicken/ Touch it, too tasty/ Bust ammunition, bust, bust my ammunition, baby/ You got me held down/ Divine, it got me spellbound/ Look around me, watch the hellbound, so fuck a vest I'm healed now/ Yes, stress never more/ Fresh out the foster home and finally talked to the psychiatrist, tell her 'bout how she controls the silence/ Can she come vibe with me? Come ride with me/ Provide me with a gun/ Laquer, mead, and rum; Come get high with me/ You don't smoke weed with me Daddy, boy, don't need me anymore/ Leave me, bitch and I'm slept on the floor/ Who' been left before? Black out in Texas, Stack Howse, criminal detention/ Are they always mashin? I'm thinkin' of dyin' dyin'
-Chorus-Bizzy-
Bizzy Bone
Insideous, hideous, gritty cause she that gets in the club, smack the prettiest in a mini/ Whittiest beefin' with the mistress/ City to city I pity the little kids pickin' up pennies and nickles/ They fallin' in love with the sinnin'/ Begin the Millenium, pinnin' Mo' Murda Mo' Murda/ Come fake, he said a mistake/ We yellin' and no talent felons still sellin'.../ No talent felons still sellin'.../ Dippin and talkin' how it's for money and double up on that/ We made like forty one trips/ Yeah, we want it like that, you know what I bring, what?
Puff Daddy
Yeah, yeah, yeah/ See what you niggas do to me, I do to you/ And if I'm who you came to see, then do what you gotta do/ We can do it anywhere, right here, right there/ And if you sleep, turn your dream to a nightmare/ Niggas gon' creep, no sleep, feel the heat/ They lookin at me funny, fuck a ho, get this money/ A time for the misfits niggas, bring your clips, war's on my mind, packin' bullets fror my nines, motherfuckers
-Chorus-Bizzy-
Available on the Puff Daddy album Forever (2000) Angels With Dirty Faces Promo available.