L-Burna (aka Layzie Bone) featuring Big Chan,Flesh n Bone
-Layzie Bone-Intro-
Mo!. You know what I'm sayin, ain't playin with yall. Knock them motherfuckers flat the fuck out. Mo Thug nigga, (Beat his ass) leave us the fuck alone. Knock that motherfucker out Chan.
-Big Chan-(Layzie Bone)-Chorus-
I'm still the greatest, I'm pretty/ I'm still the greatest (And I'm a bad man)
-Big Chan-
Hot child in the city, walkin' 'round lookin' pretty/ Playas call me 'Suck dicky', fuck pity/ Chitty chitty bang bang, it's a west side thang, bitches get bagged on and stole on/ In the city where the grass is green and the palm trees lean, been ballin', shot callin' since the age of three/ I know the mothafuckin' endin' street, ain't ready for me, all these ghetto fab queens/ Already platinum in the streets, I even got them jail house niggas sendin' they cheese to me/ Big Chan in Japan, bitch, I'm overseas/ I'm pimpin' this game, watch me Hiedi Fliess these hoes/ Give 'em short change, take they fame and roll, watch 'em all fall to the floor, it's a T.K.O. All ya heard was "Big Chan, don't hit me no mo"/ Shit, this ain't a game, street niggas know the M.O/ I kill 'em with words, serve 'em like them dealers do them burbs, ya heard me? Can't a mothafucka serve me/ I still hold the title, reposess the fakes, I'm one the greatest idols, you punk ass bitches is hollerin/ I caved your whole fuckin' chest in, my nigga, young Lay, hold it down, it's goin' down like Holyfield and Tyson/ This is for them bitch ass haters, I'm signin' off, and kickin' ass, and takin' names, Lay, Lay, Lay
-Chorus-
-Layzie Bone-
Shoulda pulled the curtain, for certain, we gon' leave these mothafuckas hurtin/ Nigga, never no bluffin', no perpin', little Lay the great runnin' this earth, and I'm ready to serve you, right/ Nigga done payed my dues, and I took my losses, it's all about murder, right, fuckin' with these Cleveland bosses, we flosses/ Y'all get paranoid, 'cause me and my boys makin' noise, shuttin' shit down/ Heard a buzz around the town, these niggas wanna fuck with me now/ But, step in my arena, you ain't never seen a little nigga meaner than Lay/ Nigga, back in the day when a nigga had to play with the Ak-47, blew 'em all away/ Nigga, don't play, I be flippin' my lid, sippin' my gin, mindin' mine, 'cause in '99 I ain't wastin' no time, makin' that money while I'm pushin' my line/ Designed to go prime, nigga, nigga with the automatic status, deadly on the trigger, hatin' on me 'cause I'm original thug, jealous of a nigga 'cause I got these figguhz/ Money don't mean a goddamn thing, we can go toe to toe, blow for blow, slug for slug, and thug for thug/ Kickin' this here just to let you know ain't a damn thing changed, doin' these everyday thangs/ And a nigga posess the bang bud, the brew and the bitches, and the bustas never could hang, nigga
-Chorus-
-Flesh n Bone-
Mighty, better think, don't test me, boy, I trust my dogs in the name of the Lord, T-H-U-G, when I'm raisin' hell, get sprayed with the G-A-G-E, smack 'em with a buckshot, curl your face/ Next morning I read I'm on the front page news, in obituary/ You stupid mothafucka, shoulda known not to step to Flesh, none the less, is these, for me to pray above/ But in the meantime, I slugs my way, here to buck two times with the mini piece, and my nigga again, he's the one, got the gun with the most, if niggas release the beast, better not, stay sleep in silence/ It ain't over for you snitches, can't handle the truth, ain't heard?/ What, in the nick, shot off then float in silence, stomach bitch, now put 'em in the mud slowly, slowly/ Seep inside you, open your mind, deep in your mental, Flesh'll get you mesmerized/ Should I make you realize I stay crazy by the flesh, It'll be test or try, then I bet he gon' and fried in the aftermath on the lawn, go home/ It ain't shit, thought you knew me, 'til I made it known, nothin' to pick up the gauge, explosion blow/ Contend with the Fifth Dog, never knew no one could check how I flip it from the C-L-E, get took thru the streets when this thugsta dwellin' on St. Clair, hit up, yell, SCT!/ When I'm hang, if niggas trip and sippin' a fifth of Rose, everybody buzzed, steady reminiscin' on back in the day, how they roll with the loaded fo' fo/ Nigga makin' my money, daily double, it's the reason why they call me Stack, that nigga that'll peel back your mothafuckin' cap!