krayzie bone - pimpz, thugz, hustlaz gangstaz lyrics
krayzie:
if you a pimp, n-gg-, pimp them hoes. if you a thug, you better get ready for
war. if you a hustla, make your dough. if you a gansta, let your gun smoke.
krayzie:
took a trip out to texas and i find real n-gg-s, remind me of mine. a n-gg- can
vibe, ’cause y’all some cold -ss playa playas. hey, there, mo thug and we gotsta
give ’em some love, so now you’re dealin’ with the big pimps and the thugs. you
get up too close and we f-ckin’ you up, you don’t really want that ’cause i know
these ain’t no hoes you f-ckin’ with. touched down and got with the realest
n-gg-s in the town. now look who’s in the suave house, yes it’s truly-yours,
mister sawed-off leatherface, a warrior ready for war, a natural soldier boy,
ready to move out, n-gg-, ready to get with the shoot out. in the meanwhile, i
still gotta make me some money to get by. yeah, i thought to connect, and hooked
up with mjg, made money, ’cause all that other sh-t don’t mean a thing to me.
but try to run up and i’m leavin’ you stunned. n-body will know who shot that
pump, ’cause i’m gonna dump it and run. put him on the pave, and hey, that n-gg-
that did it was wearin’ a leather face, and not to be played with. whatever you
claim, you better get paid. sh-t.
krayzie:
if you a pimp, n-gg-, pimp them hoes. if you a thug you, better get ready for
war. if you a hustla, make your dough. if you a gangsta, let your gun smoke.
mjg:
who be i? the n-gg- who pimpin’-a plenty of hoes, look at the size of the bank
that he hold. natural born mind control. false n-gg-s’ gang blown away. it makes
you wonder why n-gg-s be hatin’. they jealous, they fellas be lookin’ to take
you under. it seems like the more that we get, you come with that sh-t, lookin’
for ways to drive us insane, confusin’ our brain. i’m settin’ up traps for rats
who sn-tch cheese. fly like a trapeze artist. tell ’em to bring it on, i comes
the hardest. mjg, pimp, runnin’ with bone, dividin? the throne. regardless of
n-gg-s who stand in my path, i’m bringin’ it on. recitin’ the lyrical gift, the
sh-t that give me the b-tches, the money, the cars. how do you know when you’re
goin’ too far? the further you get, the further you are. sh-t, i breaks in half
crook n-gg-s. don’t make me laugh. now, huh, which ones the head and, huh, which
one’s the -ss? where your b-tch at? collectin’ my cash. now who would’ve know
that the b-tch is a hood-rat. increasin’ my stash, leavin’ you fast. you’re
thinkin’ i’m slippin’, i’m grippin’ the tech. look at the bullets, they rippin’
his vest open, puttin’ a hole in his chest. in piece is that n-gg- decide to
rest. i’m leavin’ you grievin’, believin’ in pimpin’. the sh-t that i got is the
sh-t that i’m given. constantly livin’ that life of a thug, drinkin’ the hen,
smokin’ the bud.
krayzie:
if you a pimp, n-gg-, pimp them hoes. if you a thug you, better get ready for
war. if you a hustla, make your dough. if you a gangsta, let your gun smoke.
layzie:
too many fake n-gg-s done tried to contend, and then again, pinned that they
couldn’t win. ken took it to the head with a fifth of hen now i’m in the wind,
500 benzo, we roll, roll. rod j came through with the mack-10. wish trippin’
when i pulled out the glock. you know that all of my n-gg-s be ready this
pop-pop, comin’ with the heat c-cked, ’cause it never did stop. everybody i know
out lookin’ for a come up, we creep, it’s deeper than the way you perceive a
thug, no love, take a n-gg- through the mud everytime i try him from my wordly
grudge. what? n-gg- we’ll bust till the point of no return, i’m out here
sw-ngin’, paper chasin’. erasin’ my poverty and i gotsta be that soldier
claimin’ mo! even though it get hectic, respect it. n-gg-, knock my struggle,
uh-oh, they’ll gets more chaos and i won’t stop till i piece this puzzle. i’m a
go gather up all lost souls show ’em the way to the road to be real, give ’em a
deal, train ’em to kill, haters meet and my soldiers in a battle field. we
marchin’, ready for war, f-ck the law, they ain’t on our side. h-ll yeah, we can
meet up at the district. i’m bringin’ it to you, ready to die. see, i am so sick
of oppression, sh-t ain’t changed, little lay still stressin’. no question,
clutchin’ there no more weapon, ’cause the po po wanna sweat my blessings and
uh, you’ll probably feelin? the sense of some danger, but i’m bringin’ the sense
of an angel to the table. watch me put it down for mo, and them suave house
n-gg-s. so, willin? and ready to make a few dollars and split a few wigs . if
that’s what it is, you better be mindin’ your business, or be beggin’
forgiveness. you know all i’m sayin? is, just don’
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