Bizzy (Krayzie)
Pick up you'r wings and prepare them to fly
(Bone thug souljah bone thug souljah,souljah)
In the battlezone,the battlezone
(Bone thug souljah,souljah,bone thug)
Swing low (swing low)
Sweet chariot (sweet chariot)
Coming forth to carry me home (coming forth to carry me home)
Swing low sweet chariot (sweet chorit)
Coming forth to carry me home (coming forth to carry me home)
I looked up on jordan and (what did )what did I see (what did I see)
Coming forth to carry me home (coming forth to carry me home)
(What did I see,what did I see)
Coming forth to carry me home (coming forth to carry me home)
(Listen to my battle cry
Come on,come on in my battlezone (aaah my battle cry)
Get up,get up,get up,get up,come in my battlezone
(Listen to my battle cry)
Get up,get up,get up,get up,come on
Have me come for (aaah my battle cry)
Get up,get up,get up,get up,come on (come on)
Have me come for
(Bizzy)
One,two look at the tally they drew my picture with Bob Marley
They probably wanna kill me will i die in 1999 smoking phillies
Bizzy the kid was bustin in the ceilin in my big claim
Kickin on somethig and dig this
Got to feel it catch and don't let go
Wretched in a fro
Bone watchin for the po,po
Roll over then pull it got my bullet in my fo,fo
I gotta stand it's turnin to a jungle (green bay)
Comin out a 4-door benz and I spend a lot for show
No no don't spend a lot contend with a men
Lookin at my watch lke a meal of ticket
Arrest the block they couldn't pin it better send it
For the cops absorb you soul of course
Praise to the pharoah
Murder mo,curly I heard it lower and return it burn
When our niggas still shermed out
Court's adjourned!,court's adjouned!
Rest and burn!
(Layzie)
I can't sleep at night cause I lay in my bed
And I be tossin and turnin trying to avoid my dreams
And I can hear the niggas lettin off they lead ar(Note: These are not the lyrics of the recorded version, but of an
ealier version the band once performed live.)
(M. Doughty)
A murder of lawyers in overcoats.
A murder of lawyers in overcoats.
A murder of lawyers in overcoats, shoulders up, heads slung low,
looking like a swarm of M's swarming the crosswalk. Looking up at a
window on the forty-fourth floor. Blueeyed Jew Mystic from a rhythm
section, his hands cupped around the dignified hijiki of human speech.
Muslim baritones idle with their hands down.
And the gat that fattens your jacket pocket
Plugs slugs in vain
Through the body of the immaterial witness.
And that which is Ugly and feeds on The Law comes into the conference
room singing federal jargon. Their necks are covered in chocolatey
growths. Spat up an eyeful of steam in the lumber yard parking lot.
Written in her own shit with a ground down fork.
Written in her own shit with a ground down fork
Written in her own shit with a ground down fork.
Written in her own shit with a ground down fork.