| Lyrics: | Bizzy:
Shhh. Shut up, nigga. Shut the fuck up, nigga. Here they come. Here they come. Here
they come, nigga. Duck down,
nigga. Duck down. Duck down. [Dogs barking.] Shit.
Cop:
There they are.
Bizzy:
Shit. Come on, nigga. Come on.
Cop:
These assholes are nothin'.
Bizzy:
Nigga, run for it. Nigga make--
Cop:
Freeze, muthafucka!
Bizzy:
Shit.
[Gunshot.]
Bizzy:
I'm little Ripsta. I'm . . .
Krayzie:
Leather Face comin' to kill 'em at
night.
Bizzy:
Die. Die. Die.
Krayzie:
. . . so must we buck them
studio thugstas. I'm . . .
Bizzy:
. . . willing and ready to ride.
Krayzie:
I pop pop droppin' them niggas with the glock gun. Nigga, you best start run,
duckin' the shotgun, leavin' 'em up off my block
stunned. One eighty seven lesson, and we
done told ya. You fuckin' with Bone, you better believe we livin' like soldiers. We
lovin'
that thugsta shit, so nigga, just throw your pumps in the air. Then you pump pump, put one in a
copper like ya just don't
care. You don't wanna fuck with, you don't wanna buck with a
realer nigga. Better check my manuscript: drugdealer, killa,
cabbage peeler thug with the
Ripsta. #1, with the gun, come come, get some. Senseless killa. Fifth dog and posse, run get
gone. Fuck with the Bone, four niggas strong, leave 'em alone 'til it be on. Krayzie put on one in
your dome, and, nigga be
thinkin' I'm wrong, so go on. 'Cause nigga the sawed-off ain't full
of shit. Me lovin' to smoke tweed and me weed, man. They
givin' me what me need, man, when I
light my blunt, fold the niggas up in me hood, so when we smoke, smoke, smoke, get
paid
good, so we gonna blaze good. So come to the Land where all the thugs be real. Them St. Clair
niggas--they ain't no
joke, so catch a slug or chill, nigga.
Bizzy:
I'm little Ripsta. I'm . . .
Krayzie:
Leather Face comin' to kill 'em at night.
Bizzy:
Die. Die. Die.
Krayzie:
. . . so must we buck them studio
thugstas. I'm . . .
Bizzy:
. . . willing and ready to ride.
Cop:
Lie down with your hands behind your back. [Cocking of gun.]
Bizzy:
Naw,
bitch, you lie your funk ass on the ground.
Reporter:
The seemingly routine
investigation had become a horrible nightmare . . .
[Commotion.]
Bizzy:
Runnin' with gats and bats, so, nigga, don't test Rest or you get a peeled cap. Pap. Pap.
That pump, better check that gun,
'fore a nigga done get that skull cracked. Lil' Rip
(didn't wanna), the bigger the nigga the quicker get showed up. Let's swerve
to the burbs,
set up a hold up, so many bodies me blowed up. Nuts, bucks, and guts, nigga mistakin' they balls for
dogs. All
niggas'll get mauled, no thang to pick up a pump and (...?...) know ya, and never
hold ya especially when them rolls up. Bet I
bringin' in them guns, run, a thug get low
down. You don't wanna get nutted, 'cause nigga you gonna get bloody [bloody] once
you see
the braids and skully. Cuttin' that throat when I'm rippin' up somethin' lovely. What is it in ya,
deep in the dead? And
we get fried. P.O.D.'d when I comes to ride, creep, but you sleep, and
then fall in the night, once inside forgettin' about
remorse. Your curse will ride. Cry now
when you're ready to lie down. When I'm weak in a mental state, somebody gonna
die, now.
Meanwhile, swerve to the burbs.
Witness:
Man, he just--. He
all of a sudden, just jumped out of a window. I didn't know what was goin' on. I'm just walkin' by.
Just
got a bottle of wine. I was just walkin' by, and all I seen was him jump when that lady
yelled. [That was it.] I don't know
what happened.
Witness 2:
Well, I saw
his wife begging him, and she said, "Don't jump." And he did.
[Whistle.]
Reporter 2:
Did you know the guy?
Witness 3:
He sure had a problem. That's all I could
tell ya.
Witness 4:
All I seen was them put the lady in a police care and take her.
I guess it was his wife |
