Bizzy:
It´s East 1999 time.
I promise that I´ll hunt you bastards, zip ´em in casket, here to get drastic, fast in a hurry. Is you ready for me magic? Let ´em blast, and nigga, bet I bury, then move, true to the murder mo, gladly, ´cause the haters never had to have me, want to follow fools through alleys, ´cause ready to lose and daddy who raised me like Layzie, Krayzie, probably St. Clair babies, so hate me, but I handle my business, so lately I can handle my shady, kill ´em, but won´t think I´m a bomb again, not even if they put me in prison and give me time, I´m ready for the killin´, go get ´em, and I´m a fill ´em with eleven of mine and one die. Is he ready to lie if I decide, lookin´ at my killin´ and decide to boom to go bye, I´m gonna fly [fly], whom die they lie.

Flesh:
Whom die they lie.
Krayzie:
No mo´ mercy . . .
Flesh:
Whom die they lie. [Shot.]

Flesh:
Now, who wanna go snitch? Talk shit about real trues, still be payin´ dues, saw them sneakin´, and a nigga gettin´ sick of all the playas, they hatin´. Why so many fakers runnin´ they mouth bullshit and they lose, lookin´ so deep in they eyes, and tell it when they lyin´, stop tryin´, but they never convince none, got hundreds runnin´ up with gauges. Still I´m sure they sure they fryin´ us, but I buck, sometimes I save it, for me kill ´em off later, man. So, what if it got too late for me to get ´em? Then gotta switch to testin´ G´s. In this game I aim to keep away from every crazy steady, we´re too quick to pull petty bullshit. Y´all thought that you could fuck with the Cleveland thugstas, #1 fillin´ his gun, and I wish you would, bitch, pop, (...?...) and have to show you through, when Bone thugs comin´ in, it´s a headline. Time to get on top of mountain top when they got (?) all over this nation, world, and I plan on, now look at you bustas get mad. Beat the fuckas on their own line, don´t make ´

em tell it to ya twice, when you crack a grip, keep it real, but you sure will pay the price (?).

Layzie:
Whom die they lie.
Krayzie:
No mo´ mercy . . .
Layzie:
Whom die they lie [Shot.]

Layzie:
Time to stick it for the thugsta, thugsta, little sneaky muthafucka on a mission, got me plottin´ for it quickly. Who fried? Do or die, nigga, you and I for the creep on the come up, and pay these niggas a visit. So is it, was it, wicked ways, got me strugglin´ for days. Hey, a nigga´s gotta eat, so yo, I gotta get paid and blaze. So swift not to catch a case, crept up in his place while the nigga was gone for his safe and his stones, and it´s on, ´cause the Bones havin´ a say, I won´t forget this evenin´. Nigga had theif, Little Layzie Bone, thievin´, ´cause he had cameras hid off into his ceiling. Pin me, niggas run away, they said they lookin´ for me, but I´m a find a nigga, kill him, ´fore this nigga find me. Y´all niggas know I´m murder-bound, see me when I´m servin´ now, parlay it down, breakin´ it down in the C-Town, spot ´em on the avenue, follow he´s passin´ through, get ´em at the next red light, green light, got the go ahead, infrared on your forehead. Whom die they lie.

Krayzie:
Whom die they lie.
No mo´ mercy . . .
Whom die they lie. [Shot.]

I´m that nigga with the shotty runnin´ at you niggas, poppin´ enemy. Drop ´em. Me gotta get ´em, kill ´em before they get me. Coppers on us, and you know the bitches want us, but as soon as they close, it´s the pap pap, pardon me. Take a look, and what you see--Krayzie still runnin´ from the police, ´cause I got a fuckin´ bag of weed. I believe in sale, now, on the scene. I can do it. I can kill ´em if he gotta be a casualty. He after me, but I´m a put a bullet through your head. Shoulda fled, but you didn´t, so bye-bye. Take ´em a couple a days to get your body outta the sea, meet your fuckin´ fate and in grave lay. St. Clair, Wasteland, all my niggas comin´, oh but they can´t take it, if you wanna make it, break ´em, hey, or can´t a nigga get paid? Oh, you´re fuckin´ with some niggas in some desperate days. Crime, yes, it pays, if it´s cool with it, cool with it, never act a fool with it, broad, ´cause your lose. And me kill a muthafuckin´ nigga, ´cause a nigga told another nigga, "I know who

did it." Rollin´ with the thuggish bunch of all. Let ´cha nuts hang, nigga, and cut your balls. It´s Mr. Sawed-off, Sawed-off. Whom die, die, whom die, die, they lie.

Krayzie:
Whom die they lie.
No mo´ mercy . . .
Whom die they lie. [Shot.]