Creepin' up out of the woods, gotta give love to my hood/ Smoke and I choke, gotta creep on ah come up/ Niggas be tryin' to run up, but I bust and they drop to their death, now they done up/ Gun up, hunt my blunt up, creepin' til sun up/ Feelin' slightly shady/ Call me a lightweight Krayzie, Number One nigga Little Layzie/ Niggas don't wanna fight, runnin' deadly thugsta soldiers/ Droppin' them thangs Bone done told ya/ Testin' nuts, so a nigga gon’ have to show ya/ Faded a nigga that stepped up, that slipped in some shit/ See them all's just stood up and put a foot up that ass, had to blast that click-click/ Praise the gauge, all cocked and ready to spray down to the pave puttin' them souls up off up in a grave/ Dwell in Hell, a lonely slave/ Amazed, must I blaze/ It's insane when I take that bud to the brain; Toke, choke, holdin' me smoke until-a me strained, feelin' no pain/ Better be packin' your weapon cause my shit is kept and I'm ready to let loose/ Sawed-off hangin' danglin' up under the trench, fin to blow that chest through/ Should'a wore a vest, fool cause the Bone don't front/ Nigga check or get wrecked/ Got Flesh on the set with his finger on a Tech, loc'd out with the Khaki's and High-Tech's/ Respect them St. Clair Thugs hustlin' drugs, gotta make that money, man/ Rap be the thang, and the fact remains that we house that rap game
-Bone-Chorus-
Bang! Bang! Gotta get down foe my thang/ Bone be me gang
-Flesh n Bone-
Well, what do you know? Ho's! I’m the bigger Bone that's known for gettin' his swerve on and kickin' it on the stage/ Off in a raid, gettin' my serve on so leave 'em alone/ They come, they need to be shown that Bone done chrome, blown/ Lay slugs up into them domes, so go on/ You better go run a ho check if you wanna test nut with Flesh/ I’m feelin' to lynch ya, mo' murda/ You're runnin' up eye to eye with death/ Face to face, now never-the-less you're takin' a loss, and this slug snucked up, and dumpin' the body up off in a coffin/ "Remember the vow" said a preacher/ Me teach 'em, greetin’ 'em with me nine/ Runnin' with thugs and hustla's and murder them every time
-Chorus-
-Bizzy Bone-
Remember the Ripsta' sinster, creep up, reapin' up that set with a street sweeper/ Gotta take a breather from sippin' me liter/ Rippin' that flesh when I sneak with a meat cleaver/ When I'm in me smug, never that studio thugsta/ Buck 'em! Buck 'em! Motherfuck 'em! Thug never done bluff and fuck them bustas/ So back up off me/ No, Stack won't let me slip when a nigga start to step, the weapon put 'em in the graveyard, bitch/ Better wear your vest, then test Rest/ The Ripsta quick to pick up the hollow points and put 'em up in your brains, nigga/ My little nigga Mo! Hart, my bigger nigga Sin, dashed fast/ Get up with the block at last blast they ass, pass cash then stash/ Me can killa for free for homies and family/ Tell 'em to see me, that realer nigga/ The Ripsta put 'em in rivers, it don't stop/ Drop P'z to them SCT's and Double Glock/ Pop! Pop! It's the slug from the twelve gauge thug, you don't want fuck with, no buck with, Rip's breakin' 'em bustas/ Blood! Me fillin' em like it hurts me, murderer show no mercy/ Turn your back, clack back/ Me gat diggin' 'em in the dirt, see
-Krayzie Bone-
Get ready to duck, bitch, or get fucked up/ They never could fuck with me sawed-off pump/ Bitch, if I'm flippin' or load my clip in, nigga, yall all fucked/ Gotta make my money slippin' me pump in my trench and then click it/ Now niggas, it's rippin' steady comin’ up missin' fuckin' with me clique and now Leatherface takin' your life so ya best stay back/ Tossin' the rest in a coffin cause niggas be runnin' up talkin' trash/ Fuck a car, we’re walkin’ fast/ Bang! Bang! Gotta get down for my thang/ And I claim and hang with Ts, niggas that make cheese for the green leaves, gotta give peace cause they swang these/ Come nigga, meet my hood and found nothin' but thugs and hustlas/ Sin never been no busta, real stuff and buck buck 'em and dump 'em, bitch/ Nigga, muthafuck 'em/ Krayzie don't love 'em, put 'em to rest and run/ So the po-po don't catch up, nigga, can't be arrested/ One M-11 me sendin' niggas to hell and you're felon 187/ Eleven dwellin' better from the cell and niggas that figured the Mossberg, the quicker you to the curb/ Put one to the temple, pump to Mr. Policeman/ That's all ya heard
-Chorus-
-Layzie Bone-(Wish Bone)-Outro-
Bone...Thug... (Hey, lemme see that)
Recorded for the Bone Thugs -N- Harmony album Creepin On Ah Come Up