Welcome to the darkside.
Backwards (Shatasha): It`s the thuggish ruggish Bone . . .
Eazy-E: Eternal. Eternal. Eternal . . .
St. Clair, niggas [niggas, niggas].
[Laughing. Scream. Thunder.]
Backwards (Bizzy): Gotta give it on up to the glock glock, pop pop, better drop before them buckshot blow. The Bone in
me never no ho, so no creepin` up outta the ziplock. So, Sin, sip gin, and Lil` Mo Heart run up, nut up, and flipped in, then
slipped in the clip then, mistakin` they bloody victims. `Member to test nuts . . .
[Explosion.]
Buck! Buck! Buck! Buck!
[Laughing.]
Right back at your muthafuckin` ass comes those real true thugs staight of the Double Glock, puttin` it down for the muthafuckin`
Land, takin` no shorts, no losses, puttin` it on these jealous, bitch-made, playa hatin` ass niggas. You better tell me what`s real,
bitch. Takin` over shit in the nine five, I bring to you the one and only, Bone thugs-n-harmony.
Nigga, this St. Clair [this St. Clair, this St. Clair].
Layzie:
Yeah, nigga.
Krayzie:
Execution double nine style, steadily fillin` them bodies underground.
Bizzy:
Nigga be all about that llello bankroll. Bet I make that money, man, then roll, put it on the dough, but I beat up hoes, and I peel
`em and bang. Gotta get them demons off me, creepin` up softly, seepin` up through my soul, and sleepin` ain`t good til dawn.
When I`m alone, and I`m dozin`, bet I watch the door, then I won`t be slippin`, sleepin`. Lovin` the thugs I bails with, but a trail
of twelve gauge shells, blood`ll be spilled, one-eighty-seven and a two-eleven. Twelve gauge and an AK-47 spray. Lil` Ripsta
killa now, put `em off in a grave--they lay with a slug stuck all up in ya. When I roll with realer niggas, pop, pop. Drop to the
sound, hit the ground, then I`m up to kill ya.
Krayzie:
Them St. Clair thugs, we love when they pumpin` them slugs, now what, see the blood from the scum, when I dug them
enemies deep in the mud. They drugged. I roll with them trues. Snooze, you lose, end up on the alley floor fucked up. What`s
up with them shoes? Ooh, they new. So we runnin` off with my dog`s Chucks. Bust a left at the block. Hey, what do ya
know? Oh, no, the po-po--they follow. Copper gotta see the nigga layin` but can`t escape, but nigga, remember my motto:
me no surrender. Gotta get away, hit the fence with the quickness, hit the other side, and I swang to the ride, rollin` through the
cut, hit ninety-five. Peel, bailin` for safety we make it and chill, gotta make a mill, better not get caught for real. Nigga, drop
that bill, or I pop my steel. Ain`t no competition, don`t fuck with my click, and so listen you bitches that trippin` so get when we
stickin` then lickin` them pockets. So drop that dollar, man. Gotta holler, bang. Fuckin` with a thug nigga smokin` blunts.
Nigga, don`t stiff on the weed, smoke it all, `cause, nigga, you know when our pockets get (?) I`m a run and get a sack, and
come choke, choke, choke.
Layzie:
Now you`re fuckin` with these thuggish killas, creepin` up outta the Land, and they ready to ride, gettin` high off thai. My niggas
in the Land got glocks for days on the nine-nine. But I kill `em all, dog. Bet Layzie don`t fall with the twelve gauge eruption on
niggas, so what now? Come, nigga, get buck, pow, and not only that, get shut the fuck down. And I`m talkin` about niggas
that wanna contend with them thugstas. Some niggas done fucked up, never no playa haters in the click`s allowed, and we
never no bustas. Never catch a nigga sleep, hear the buckshots rang where the thugs in Cleveland dwell. Daily collectin` me
mill, and I`ll meet you in hell if all else fails. Oh, well.
Krayzie:
Execution double nine style,
with Layzie:
steadily sendin` that body underground
