Krayzie Bone: Pimpz, Thugz, Hustlaz & Gangstaz

aus dem Album: Thug Mentality 1999

Songtext:
Krayzie: Glas Folie

If you a pimp,

nigga, 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 niggas,

remind me of mine. A nigga can vibe, 'cause y'all

some cold ass 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 gettin'

too close and we fuckin' you up, you don't really

want that 'cause I know these ain't no hoes you

fuckin' with. Touched down

and got with the realest niggas 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, nigga, ready to get

with the shoot out. In the

meanwhile, I still gotta make me some money to get

by. Yeah, I finally connected, and hooked up with

MJG, made money,

'cause all that other shit don't mean a thing to me.

But try to run up and I'm leavin' you stunned. Nobody

will know who shot

that pump, 'cause I'm gonna dump it and run. Put 'em

on the pave, and hey, that nigga that did it was

wearin' a Leather Face,

and not to be played with.

Whatever you claim, you better get paid. Shit.


Krayzie:

If you a pimp,

nigga, 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 nigga who pimpin' up plenty of hoes,

look at the size of the bank that he hold. Natural

born. Mind control.

False niggas' gang blown away. It makes you wonder

why niggas be hatin'. They jealous, they fellas be

lookin' to take you

under. It seems like the more that we get, you come

with that shit, lookin' for ways to drive us insane,

confusin' our brain. I'm

settin' up traps for rats who snatch cheese. Fly

like a trapeze artist. Tell 'em to bring it on, I

comes the hardest. MJG, pimp,

runnin' with Bone, dividing the throne. Regardless

of niggas who stand in my path, I'm bringin' it on.

Recitin' the lyrical gift, the

shit that give me the bitches, the money, the cars.

How do you know when you're goin' too far? The

further you get, the

further you are. Shit, I breaks in half crook

niggas. Don't make me laugh. Now, uh, which ones the

head and, huh, which

one's the ass? Where your bitch at collectin' my

cash? Now who would've know the bitch is a hood-rat.

Increasin' my stash,

leavin' you fast. You're thinkin' I'm slippin', I'm

grippin' the TEC. Look at the bullets, they rippin'

his vest open, puttin' a hole in

his chest. In pieces, that nigga decided to rest.

I'm leavin' you grievin', believin' in pimpin'. The

shit that I got is the shit that I'm

given. Constantly livin' that life

of a thug, drinkin' the Hen, smokin' the bud.


Krayzie:

If you a pimp,

nigga, 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 niggas done tried to contend and dead

again. Pinned that they couldn't win. Kid 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 niggas be ready

this pop-pop, comin' with the heat cocked, '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 nigga

through the mud everytime I try him for a wordly

grudge. What? Nigga will bust till the point of no

return, I'm out here slangin',

paper chasin'. Erasin' my poverty and I gotsta be

that soldier claimin' Mo! Even though it get hectic,

respect it. Nigga, 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, buck the law--they ain't on our side. Hell

yeah, we can meet up at the district. I'm bringin' it

to you, ready to die.

See, I am so sick of oppression, shit ain't

changed, Little Lay still stressin'. No question,

clutchin' there no more weapon,

'cause a po-po wanna sweat my blessings and uh, you

probably feelin' me sensin' 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 niggas. So, willing 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

saying is don't

fuck with me, man.


Krayzie:

If you a pimp,

nigga, 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.


Eightball:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Bone Thugs. Mo

Thugs. Eightball, the fat mack, and MJ-fuckin'-G.

The realest niggas

alive, yea. Thuggin', pimpin', bitch, this shit

don't stop. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout? All

over the muthafuckin' world and

back again, bitch.

Space-age forever.