I keep on seein things (Booya). This big pussy, suga dick come here suga dick. Naw this sweet nuts right here. I'm headin down I-71, I just picked up a dirt bag of weed, this shit is grass. (I keep on seein things)
-Bizzy-Chorus-
As time keep passin’ us by in my community, watchin’ the children die, bitch-made police, and they brutality/ Prozac and Ridilin, that ain’t what we need/ And you wonder why our children keep smokin’ weed
-Bizzy-
Take a look into the gun, look at what we’ve become/ Daddy don’t love me, only come around the first of the month/ Me and mommy still in the slump, why don’t he love us?/ I can’t even blame him, ‘cause ever since I came, we been stuck in the same ghetto/ Now I’m carryin’ heavy metal when times is tough/ I don’t know about ya neighborhood, but baby, mines is rough/ Abandoned buildings, police searchin’ all the children/ Ain’t no peace in the streets, at least not where I’m livin/ Kneeling to god, ‘cause Satan never gave us a chance, evil never had no rythm, man, the devils can’t dance/ Got three pairs of pants, but I keep ‘em all creased, whether chicken or ham, we gon’ use the same grease/ Each second is a struggle, beg, borrow or hustle/ Yeah, scufflin’ money, just try to stay out of trouble/ Hell, rebel of rap music, put it on my mama!/ And if it’s gonna be gunplay, rocket launchers, grenades, and AKs!
-Chorus-
-Bizzy-
Why is the broad on my back like that?/ Don’t ask me, I’m for passion, I’m smashin’ on niggas, come blast me!/ All my people tellin’ me I should sing more, Yes!/ Roll up a dub, smoke bud in the club, free Flesh!/ Creepin’ on a come up, I’m from Cleveland, and Columbus, Ohio/ Donate myself for science and the cryo/ Yet all these niggas gangbang, somebody should tell ‘em the truth, I’ll sell ‘em somethin’ that’ll get they heart to pumpin’, and help the youth!/ Hangin’ in the graveyard, everybody’s playin’ hard/ Satan’s on a mission to get us, I hope that nobody with us, and given us slave ways/ Ruthless got us on fifty dollars a day, one hundred and ninety thousand, I guess platinum don’t pay/ Can I please get some mo’ money? Somebody could buy my way, ‘cause shit, the rent’s due/ Glad I got ghetto credit, don’t let the industry pimp you ...
-Chorus-
-Bizzy-
Babies born with AIDs, and we pray for em/ They hording the vaccine, black helicopter rain on ‘em, I’m gainin’ on ‘em/ Maintain the main thang on ‘em, shame on ‘em/ But another victim died of vain for ‘em, slain/ Two hundred and fifty crashed in the plane, and the only thing that survived was the black box, they frame the black cops/ Slang crack rock/ Wannabe Hot Boyz, so he gon’ make the block hot, block hot/ They wanna see me sasquash, pull out my glock, cocked, and pop pop!/ Go to jail, don’t nobody send you mail/ Hell, I’m ridin’ ‘til these wheels fall off, or they can take it to the chop shop/ Shut up, I’m shinnin’ on you bustas! What!? Ready to hustle, get your struggle on, no!/ When you wanna double up, you keep fuckin’ up!/ Your mind’s gone, time’s gone, everybody’s runnin’ amuck/ They say that lesbians is sick, but they just do wanna fuck