Don't let that murder murder get ya, make ya dead and gone...
Gangsta
I'm that nigga so tell me, how the fuck do ya figure that any of these niggas could be bigger/ I paid my dues, I know the rules, money rule everybody know that/ Niggas wanna follow that, your baby mama swallowed that/ Bitch wanna be down with the clique, take your pick/ I don't mind if you choose, the nigga with the braids and the fresh tennis shoes always jumpin outta somethin' fresh/ Double S or maybe somethin' European/ Y'all niggas know, y'all niggas be seein (fa sho) Who Bangin' who slangin' who claimin' who rippin' who flamin' nick-namin' the young homies when I'm on the set/ Now they on the corner with the heat gettin wet/ Dub. S til I rest y'all knowin pimpin' and ho'n the best thang goin'
-Chorus-Krayzie-
Niggas always talk shit, but they better get the fuck up outta my way/ Don't let that murder murder get ya, make ya dead and gone, gone
Krayzie Bone
Now watch a nigga bein' hardcore and then I fuck him up and flip it put a little bit of singin' with it/ But I'm willin' to bet a million nigga anything I'm spittin' is probably the realest that you gon ever get it/ ThugLine til I die/ Is motherfuckers soldiers or niggas just actin' wearin' fatigues cause it's a fashion/ Cause I don't know why these niggas thinkin' they can put on some black khaki's and figure they a villian/ Shit is gettin' ridiculous/ Now where the real niggas at? Get 'em ready for the Who-ride, start it when I shoot my nine/ And if I run up, I hit 'em with the pump, don't duck you're gon die/ And when the thugs ride by, ya already know what you're in for smokin' bullets floatin' out the window/ We don't need no infa-red nigga, you just shoot in the crowd/ Ya hit a couple motherfuckers in the head/ Hope you don't think just cause a nigga rappin' that we gonna leave the guns at home/ Oh, so you can get your robbin' on so what ya plottin' for? Cause nigga, Krayzie Bone keep his money by the chrome/ So nigga touch that dough, fo' fo' gon' blow you away/ And I don't bluff, trust me we heated heavy/ Blow 'em up, roll 'em up, show 'em that we don't play/ Bring it to 'em however they want it
-Chorus-Krayzie-
K Mack
Three criminals in the '80 Rome; Gangsta, K-Mack, and Krayzie Bone/ Heard about some niggas dumpin' major zones/ We in the cut outta town, that's the page we on/ We go zone to zone, rock to rock/ Take your spot, set up shop, and shake the spot/ Block for block (Boo ya) Hit ya with the Rueger (Three ghetto niggas with sixteen shooters) Faded, braided,tacked up with heat holders for cats with traps who try to cheat rollers/ Whatever, whatever, we can do it/ How you wanna do it I'm married to rap and my strap til death do us/ Whatever you wanna kill (We can kill it) Whatever you wanna spill (We can spill it) The 'Rads only mash with the realest so if you got coke on your tongue, you can feel this/ Comin' through with hot hoppers, gold finger poppers, a blunt in my mouth and a trench coat mafia stopper for the niggas that's poppin' shit/ Got my hand in the stash, and I'm cockin' shit/ One more word outta you I'm a squeeze this shit/ Fuck your shirt up, make you bleed and pee and shit
-Chorus-Krayzie-
The Comrads
(The Comrads) Put it down for niggas (The Comrads) Put it down for the bitches (The Comrads) Put it down for the riches (The Comrads) The Comrads