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| 1. |
| 1:25 | 
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Bone Enterpri$e in the house And just left tha liquor store So nigga, anything goes 'Cause we on a mission for the 4 Bs: Bank, bud, brew, and bitches, muthafuckas! [Wish] I'm getting repaid You're hittin the ground from the sound of buckshots Well, what do you know? I'm hitting the flow and pushin' me down is two cops I'm back on the block and sellin' my rocks But niggas gettin' jealous They gave me a brew, and hit me for two I'm callin up my fellas [Bizzy] Well it's the ruthless nigga gangsta Comin' out with the message to jealous muthafuckas Straight on my dick and bitin' lyrics Who is that perpetratin' and takin' our lyrics Non-originatin' slobs You wait 'til they album comes out [Boogie Nite] Straight from the city where thieves dwell Thugs, gangstas, and bitches sell The place you would journey is not a myth (Krayzie: yeah, muthafucka!) But Cleveland is up in this bitch! [Krayzie] Now Krayzie Bone is rippin' and stickin' Them niggas up in the nine-two And all these niggas steppin' must got static with my crew Well, nigga bring it on Send them chromes to your dome Krayzie Bone ain't no ho; I gets mine in the nine-O [Layzie] It's the #1 Assassin Just be quick to put that ass out Chillin' with Bizzy, and Krayzie, and Wish Drinkin' 'til we pass out Bone Enterpri$e, the gangstas niggas be pimpin' hoes Livin' like criminals, untouchable niggeros [Bizzy] Hell muthafuckin' yeah! So now you know: Bone Enterpri$e is up in this bitch! And for the people who didn't think we was comin' out: Nigga, you bought it! [Krayzie] Yeah, Krayzie Bone, Layzie Bone Bizzy Bone, and Wish Bone in the muthafuckin' house (Bizzy: Boogie Nite) My nigga,Boogie Nite, this muthafucka Yo, and we bus tickets muthafucka! Praise the twelve gauge |
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| 2. |
| 1:21 |
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Ouija are you with me? Mo murda, mo murda, mo murda me now. Dear Mr. Ouija, I want to know my future, will I die of murda, of bloody murda? Come come again, Murda murda, mo murda, mo murda murda, mo murda, mo murda murda, mo murda, mo murda murda, mo murda. [Simultaneously, repeated:] Mo murda murda, mo murda, mo murda, mo murda, mo murda murda, mo murda, mo murda murda, mo murda. Ouija are you with me? With me. Ouija are you with me? I'm here. Will I die of murda? |
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| 3. |
| 4:42 |
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We're not against rap. We're not against rappers.
But we are against those thugs [thugs, thugs, thugs]. Shatasha: Oh, it's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone. Layzie: You're feelin' the strength of the rump, step up, hear the funk of the jump that the thugstas feel, just be thuggin', straight buzzin', lovin' your peoples 'cause we so real. Chill, better bring your weapon, when steppin', bring on that ammunition, trip and don't slip, not to mention, never knew no competition. But I gotta get mine, so scream out, "Mo!" and let me hear ya holler, not about that mighty dollar, ro1l with the Bone, mo' thugs will follow. Chain gang remainin' the same, flamin' my dank and drinkin' brew, thinkin' about that hangin', clockin' my bank, and thuggin' trues, fools. Shatasha: It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone. Wish: Get ready for the Bone and the Mo Thug, bustas, you know me as a hustla. T ry to creep and get beat, make me succeed, peep, gotta put them under. Strate Jacket's gotta make that money, man. It's still the same, now, bailin' in my black, trench vest. You gotta be down to bang bang. Come and get this teachin', ya soldiers, how thugstas must stack. Me drinkin' me brew 'til me skull crack, (?) on our way back. Shatasha: It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone. Krayzie: Now follow me, now, roll, stroll, off deep in the Land. Well, creep if you can, take another swig to the brain, (Rose), loc'in', steady chokin' off that potent smoke and runnin' from the po-po, now. Gotta get 'em up with my thugstas, right turn to the double glock. Pull to the curb, smoke with my hustlas. Puff, puff, puff to the brain shot, love P.O.D.'ded and tweeded, gotta get another case for my trunk. Olde English, really don't need it, but in case my trues wanna get drunk. They pump Bone, so leave 'em alone--you don't wanna get shut down. Thug runnin' the nine-quat, and you better believe they be wantin' this thug style, so what now? See the Bone thug claim, thug never gonna change, so flame up. Sit back and just smoke to the same cut, Leather Face on the creep, and I came up. Shatasha: It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone. Bizzy: Gotta give it on up to the glock glock, pop pop, better drop when 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. Ever if ya test nuts, to the chest and put 'em to rest, and, but I won't test bucks, put a hole up into me vest, and gotta get through my soul, but they won't budge, mud, drug me victim. The blood in me runnin' my mental, the thug in me, stuck in me, keepin' it simple, the Bone in me runnin' with thugs so, to the temple, buck when you duck to the thuggish ruggish T's. St. Clair P's, to appeal to the G's, and a buck to all my enemies. Shatasha: It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone. We've got Layzie and'a Krayzie. Bizzy's in the house. Wish is in the house, and Flesh, and Shatasha. Cleveland's definitely in the house. It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone |
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| 4. |
| 3:37 |
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My nigga just entered your business, so can I get a witness? Can you duck? Fuck the po-po, pow. Startin' to kick this,
gonna get my shit, and then you fucked up. Me buck. Me bang. Niggas ain't talkin' 'bout them thangs. Thugs remain, hang, swang with a click tight claim, come again, now. They drop down when I'm off the block. Fuck them cops. Me and Krayzie runnin' through the Boneyard, daily. Gotta give 'em up to the glock-glock, so I can serve me thugs and maintain to the brain, and thugs remain to slang thangs. Long live the dope game, and it won't end ya, as long as my niggas remember: no pretender. Get right up off the Clair, nigga, Fuck it. No surrender. No surrender. Layzie: Not wantin' the copper to hit me, a lick up, found me a victim to stick up, pick up, rollin' the nine-ball, slippin' that's why me trippin', bloody victim, get him when the time calls, dog. Take two-eleven, bailin', thuggin', knowin' these niggas well, then Bone's fuckin' with the hoes, here comes them po-pos. Nigga, that pig done peeped me, me gots to flees and get my creep on. Bone get gone, hit a wrong turn, mash the gas, and dash on. Jump outta the hottie, move me body, hittin' them cuts and trails, runnin' like we lunatics, gotta make it back to (?). Escape and eludin' the chase, buckin' me gauge, so nigga, remember: me killa, me no surrender. Me killa, me killa, me killa . . . No surrender. | Wish: Puttin' me on my knees, tellin' me move and I'm dead, 'cause I'm killin' all your bitches, turnin' them blue suits red. And then I'm comin' to that funeral to shoot that bitch up, because I know that's where y'all bitches is bound to meet up. Cop killas, all up in they chest, and I know what to do with that vest, man. Twenty-two shots. I killa. You don't wanna fuck with Bone, nigga. And it really ain't shit to pu1l a trigger on a copper, 'cause if I go down, some of y'all goin' down, 'cause I'm goin' down poppin'. So muthafuck all coppers. Let me catch you slippin', nigga, bet I pop ya. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Krayzie: Ya better believe it's judgement day. So, nigga, just throw your pumps up in the air. Now kill 'em, kill 'em copper, like ya just don't care. When they come, they come creepin'. Me peepin'. Gotta watch them po-pos sleepin', put 'em in deep in gutters. Me keepin' 'til a me rich and gotta get mine, every time. This'll be over in nine nine, so, nigga, get down for the crime, gonna be more coppers dyin' in the line of fire. With thugs when I be slangin' my drugs, tryin' to cuff me and my nigga boy, gotta rip them guts, and lay your head in blood. Better check yourself next time you test and try to smoke a nigga. Bitch, remember: me killa. Me no surrender. Me no surrender. Nigga, me no surrender. Me no surrender. Don't make me put one in ya. Me no surrender. Don't make me put one in ya. Me no surrender. No surrender |
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| 5. |
| 4:49 |
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Creepin' up outta the woods, gotta give love to my hood. Smoke, and I choke, and I creep on a come up. Niggas be tryin run up, but I bust, and they drop to their death. Now they done up. Gun up, hunt my blunt up. Creepin' 'til sun up, feelin' slightly shady. Call me lightweight crazy, number one nigga little Layzie. Nigga don't wanna fight, runnin' deadly thugsta soldiers, droppin' them thangs. Bone done told ya. Testin' nuts, so a nigga gonna have to show ya. Faded a nigga that stepped up. Let's slip in some shit. See 'em alls just stood up then put a foot up that ass, had to blast that click-click. Sprayed the gauge, all cocked, and ready to spray down to the pave. Puttin' them souls up off in them graves, dwell in Hell, they'll all lay slayed. Amazed, must I blaze. It's insane when I take that bud to the brain. Toke, choke, holdin' me smoke until-a me strained, feelin' no pain. Better be packin' your weapon, 'cause my shit is kept and I'm ready to let loose sawed-off hangin', danglin' up under the trench, fin to blow that chest, but you shoulda wore a vest, fool, 'cause the Bone don't front. Nigga check or get wrecked. Got Flesh on the set, with his finger on a TEC, loc'd out with the khakis and high techs. Respect them St. Clair thugs hustlin' drugs, gotta make that money, man. Rap be the thang, and the fact remains that we owns that rap game. Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang. Bone be me gang. Flesh: We runnin' with no hoes, and the bigger Bone that's known for gettin' his swerve on and kickin' it on the stage. (Off in the rag), gettin' my serve on. So, leave 'em alone. They come. They need to be shown that Bone done chrome, blown, lay slugs up in to them domes, so go on. You'd rather go run a ho check, if you wanna test nuts with Flesh, I'm feelin' to lynch ya, mo murda. You're runnin' up eye to eye with death. Praise the Flesh, now nevertheless you're takin' a loss, and this slug snuffed up, and dumpin' the body up off in a coffin. Remember the vow said a preacher, me teach 'em, (winnin'/greetin') 'em with me nine, runnin' with thugs and hustlas and murderin' 'em every time. Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang. Bone be me gang. Bizzy: Remember the Ripsta, sinster creeper, reapin' up that set with a street-sweeper. Gotta take a breather from sippin' me liter. Rippin' that flesh when I sneak with a meat cleaver. When I'm in me smug, never the studio thugsta. Buck 'em. Buck 'em. Motherfuck 'em. Thug never done bluff and fuck them bustas. So back up off me. No stack won't let me slip. When a nigga start to step, the weapon, put 'em in the graveyard. Bitch, better buy your vest, then test Rest, the Ripsta, quick to pick up the hollow points and put 'em up in your brains, nigga. My little nigga, Mo! Hart, my bigger nigga, Sin, dash fast, get up with the block at last blast they ass, pass cash, then stash, me can killa for free for homies and family. Tell 'em to see me, that realer nigga, the Ripsta, put 'em in rivers. It don't stop. Drop P's to the SCT's and double glock. Pop. Pop. Here's the slug from the twelve gauge thug. You don't want fuck with, no buck with, Rip's breakin' 'em bustas. Blood, me fillin' 'em (...?...) me murder. I show no mercy. Turn your back, clack back me gat, diggin' 'em in the dirt, see. Krayzie: Get ready to duck, bitch, or get fucked up. They never could fuck with me sawed-off pump. Bitch, if I'm flippin' or load my clip in, nigga, y'all all fucked. Gotta make my money, slippin' me pump in my trench, and then click it. Now, nigga, it's rippin', steady clippin', not missin', thuggin' with me click, and now Leatherface takin' your life so ya best stay back, tossin' the rest in a coffin, 'cause niggas be runnin' up, talkin' trash. Buck a guard while walkin' past. Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thangs, and I claim and hang with Ts, niggas that make cheese for the green leaves. Gotta give peace, 'cause they swang these. Come, nigga, meet my hood and fulla nothin' but thugs and hustlas: Sin never been no busta, he'll stuff and buck-buck 'em and dump 'em, bitch. Nigga, muthafuck 'em, Krayzie don't love 'em, put 'em to rest and run, so the po-po don't catch up--nigga can't be arrested. One M-11 me sendin' niggas to hell, and you're feelin' 187. Eleven dwellin' better from the cell, and nigga that pick up Mossberg, the quicker you to the curb. Put one to the temple, pump, to Mr. Policeman. That's all you heard. Bang, bang, gotta get down for my thang. Bone be me gang. Bang, bang, bang, bang |
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| 6. |
| 4:51 |
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Woke up this morning with the thought of robbin' a bank to get rich. Ain't ate in days so it ain't no thang to click click, bitch, gimme your shit. Fresh out the pen, and I'm low on ends, fuck calm, I tried to stay thug. Got flowin' skills, but niggas, they bitches, now I just can't buy my bud. With my steel, grabbed the forty-four mag plus a sack, and I snag my leather rag, can't reveal when I glide with the moneybag, ride to the hide, count my flags. I be livin' on the darkside, and I can't escape, some say it's a phase. If it is, only way I'm gonna survive is if I play with my gauge. It's a raid. Put your face to pave. If you try to play brave, you'll get slayed. Pull down them shades, empty your pockets, watches, jewels, and you'll be safe. I snatched the clerk up by her neck, put the gun in her mouth and said, "Bitch, you better move quick back to the safe, if you wanna be killed try some stupid shit. And pushin' that panic switch will get you nowhere but hell." Trail to the back with the money in the sack, locked 'em all in the vault, time to bail. Well, tickets I'm out the door, hopped in the smug, and I break fast. Get to my pad, sit back and laugh, loc'd out as I flip through my cash. At last, nigga made good, and I got away smooth. Now, I'm straight. Covered my tracks, only description is that nigga with that leather face, fool. I gotta get mine, and if you stall, then I'm gunnin'. Just work your job, get paid. I'll rob ya. See, a nigga creep on a come up. Stalkin' (gat fools), walkin' jack moves. Layzie: See, I'm sittin' in my room, and a nigga feelin' down, steady thinkin' 'bout how to get paid. Gotta gauge at my waist that be spellin' out murder that'll get a nigga locked the cage. Lay my head to bed, start to thinkin' hard, money is the cause. What can I do me for? Need to hit a lick, not a bullshit, but a real lick, like robbin' a jewelery store. Select which one will I raid. Got be headin' downtown, 'cause tonight's the night. Dressed in my black, wearin' makeup on my face so a nigga can't be seen in the spotlight. Stole two cars, and I parked one north, parked one east for the smooth switch. When a nigga bail, how the fuck he gonna tell if a nigga don't dwell in the same shit? Climb to the roof, and I'm peepin' out the scene, and there's no one I can spot. So I get my ass down, looked around through the window, and I broke the bitch out with a rock. Now I jump my ass in. Start to fillin' up the bag, and a nigga comin' up on these diamonds. Grabbed a couple herring bones, and some rings, and some (brooches), still thinkin' how them diamonds was shining. Went to the cash register, broke the bitch open, grabbed all the money they had. And a nigga gettin' goin' gone to Bone, yeah, got to let my niggas check out my bag. And I got away smooth, 'cause I had the shit planned, and ain't no bullshit get brung up. That's what I gotta do if I wanna get paid, 'cause a nigga be creepin' on a come up. Stalkin' (gat fools), walkin' jack moves. Bizzy: Downin' Jamacian spliffs, little nigga Ripsta on this lick and bang bang. Nigga that's the click on my brain, (?) another victim insane. Feel the murderous nerve--this twelve shot pump, and I gotta bigger gat to back me. Peelin' in my smug, thug, hoody, black skully, black khakis. Creepin' in my smug, so reapin', peek into the window, let me cock this. Nigga must've been meant to be jacked, 'cause here comes me hostage. Up outta the door, with a pump to her temple, shoulda seen her tremble. Push any alarms, and I drop them bombs on moms. It's just that simple. I took my ganjas and fried 'em. Don't gimme no hassle, bitch, 'cause I've been scopin' for weeks, and I know y'all got some shit. Clack back me gun, hollow point mixed with dum-dum kickin'. Ladies and babies scream onto the floor. ["Shut up and listen!"] It's a jack move, fools. Give me the jewels, the dope, the weed, the cheese, and answer me: why and you hoes is cryin', 'cause bitches are dyin'? Blood clot, here to be dead what one of them niggas said. Buckshots up into them dreads, and I love when I hear them pump red. One that callin' me bluff, I stuffed him with the quickness. He made out with a smooth thirty Gs. So all bodies must bleed, I need no witness. So with a me slug, mo thug jumped into him smug, rolled the blunt up, good stuff reefer, hitted the Bone to give up love to my thugs, 'cause I done made it clean as fuck, and I flees the scene with a buck buck, 'cause a nigga be creepin' on a come up. Stalkin' gat fools, walkin' jack moves |
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| 7. |
| 4:32 |
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For the love of money.
Gotta make that money, man. That money, man. It's still the same, now. Flesh: Gotta get on the grind, pop in the clip of my nine, and bitch if you slip, you hit the chalk and fall in the nighttime. Gotta get mine, ain't takin' no shorts or no losses. Hop on the phone, callin' my nigga, Sin, at home, polishin' the MAC-1O chrome. Gotta lick we can hit, so bring your shit, 'cause once again, it's on. To the dome with a fifth of (burb), my wig to the curb, so we swerve and rolled out to pick up the triple-six thug and follow the murder for robbin' the dopehouse. Smoke jump outta me bong, so high, now comin' to slay with four grenades and a gauge. I'm a play, watch all 'em fall in the grave and lay. Pullin' in the driveway, Wish spotted the place and quickly rolled up. Bulldozed through the living room, hopped out of the car, and started to blow up. Buck, buck, and a kabloom, me blew all them bodies all over the room. Them doomed. And gotta move fast, why? The po-po's comin'. Snatch up me yummy, so nigga, don't think it's funny. I'm comin' up quick in the nine-quat, 'cause Flesh be lovin' this money, this money. Layzie: I'm givin' up love to the hustlas, all them St.Clair thugstas, makin' that money, stayin' on your feet. And you better believe gotta have that cheese for the green leaves, never catch me sleep. Stay on the grind, get mine, stayin' down for my crime, and I hit up the nine nine, givin' up that 1lello, makin' me sale--twenties, nickels and dimes. Beat up and stick up a lick up, that two-eleven, gotta get what's mine, then bailin'. Me kickin' up dust, I'm trailin', feelin' one-eight-seven. That's how it is, and I gotsta have it in the nine-quat. Mission: to check a mill and still be real. Thuggin' on the glock-glock, creepin' on a come up, won't sleep 'til I'm done up, gotta blaze me blunt up, hunt up another plot and scheme, gotta make some green, 'cause soldiers nut up. What up? Gotta get that business on, even though the buddah run me, stun me, feelin' lovely, but I'm just in it for the love of the money. For the love of money. Gotta make that money, man. That money, man. It's still the same, now. Eazy-E: Standin' on the corner, straight slangin' rocks. Aw, shit! Here comes the muthafuckin' cops, so I dash, I duck, and I hides behind a tree, makin' sure the muthafuckas don't see me. Now my fat sack of rocks--hell, yeah, I stuffed 'em. Police on my draws. I had to pause, and yeah, it's still muthafuck 'em. Now my game is tight. Tight as fuck is my game. Eazy-muthafuckin'-E or Eric Wright it's all the same. Now, niggas might trip on how I stacks my grip. I gotta have it, bitch. for the love of this shit. Muthafucka! Gotta make that money, man. That money, man. It's still the same, now. Bizzy: When dough got me thugsta, thuggish ways, down for my crime everytime. Follow me down the nine nine, and you will find all of me kind. Check out the Ripsta, now, drop down. Run 'em up outta me hood. Rip's straight when I'm makin' me grip with a me click, rollin' with Ruthless, the thug I be. Me put 'em in mud, buck 'em, and pump blood. Got nothin' to lose, bitch. Ya better respect Rip, or ya best just check this slug. It's goin' down, steady pump and peel rounds, gunnin' with a me gang. Bang. Gotta make that money, man. It's still the same, steady runnin' thangs wild. And follow me now, while I take ya up into a barrel of a gun, see. For the dub, you're done. For the bud, I run, for the love of my money. Krayzie: Nigga down for my thang off in this thug game. So peep as me creep and me crawlin' off on the mission to back in the days when niggas was bailin' with sawed-offs and wanted to get paid. Runnin' to my side, lil' nigga, Ripsta, both on the mission for money. You give up the cash, oh, that was your ass, 'cause me and my nigga was hungry. And, bitch, if you're stallin', you might just catch one to the temple, and um, Bone raw doggin', so nigga just make this shit simple and run. To catch one nigga, me fill 'em with bullets and dump 'em in rivers. Remember: me killa, now. For money, me dig ya six feet in a ditch and get richer, 'cause, bitch, you were slippin'. I'll cut ya, then rip ya, then buck ya down. Steady robbin' and stealin', makin' a killin'. Nigga drugdealin', needin' a million. Hustlin' drugs when the thugs be chillin'. For the money, these niggas be sellin' off in the cut, where you find a nigga thuggin' off in braids and skullies, and when I stick ya and lick ya, remember: I get 'em up for the love of money. For the love of money. Krayzie: Yeah, Bone in the muthafuckin' house for the nine-quats, nigga, yeah, rollin' with Ruthless Records in this bitch. My niggas, Layzie Bone, Bizzy Bone, Wish Bone, and Flesh-n-Bone. And I'm that nigga, Krayzie Bone, in the muthafuckin' house. |
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| 8. |
| 4:33 |
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For tha love of money. Ummm, ooohohohwell, well, wellooooh. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money, ahhhahhh(For tha love of money.)ahhhoh yeah! (For tha love of money.) Ahh harderahh(For tha love of money)ah ahhh ahhh umm. (For tha love of money) For tha love of Moneeeeeyyyy! (For tha love of money.) What people will do for tha love of money (For tha love of money.) For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For the love of money. For the love of money. For the love of money. For the love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. Oh come on baby, unngh harder(For tha love of money.)oh harder, harder, ohyeah! (For tha love of money.) Umm damn, work it aww yeah, (For tha love of money.) Aww umm ahhumm. (For tha love of money) For tha loveoohove of money. (For tha love of money) W hat people will do for tha love of money! (For tha love of money.) You're just a sinner for tha love of money. (For tha love of money) don't' you know, don't you know, don't you know that money is the root of (For tha love of money) evil. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money. For tha love of money |
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