Krayzie Bone: Theze Dayz

aus dem Album: Thug Mentality 1999

Songtext:
Krayzie: Klebefolie Rosa

I'm representin' muthafuckin' Thugline nigga, in

1999. You muthafuckas wanna find the real thugs and

hustlas, nigga? Come to

the muthafuckin' ghetto where

we from. Now we're the real thugs!


This how we livin'

these days . . .

[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta,

gangsta. And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta,

thugsta.]


Krayzie:

Nigga, these days, we kill you much

quicker to get us some paper. You feelin' me?

These days, you gotta be

packin' a gun--everybody your enemy.

These days, it's every nigga for they self ,

'cause it ain't no such thing as friends and wealth,

so nice niggas get left.

And that's why these days, you

gotta be raw out here on the streets.

Tell 'em, these days, you can't

be fuckin' with niggas that's weak.

And these days, no tellin' when you'll meet your

coffin. I seen it too often, that's why fuck

flossin', I take caution. Don't trip.

Shit. If you're rich, you're rich, 'cause if you

slip, somebody waitin' to get at you--grab your cash

and split your shit. These

days, stay on the low-low and away from

po-po, unless you're ready to pull your fo'-fo' and

blow.

How come these days niggas wanna be the Don of

the mob? They claim it, but they never qualify for

the job.

These days, we bustin' at

muthafuckas quicker, simply 'cause it's 1999, nigga.


This how we livin'

these days . . .

[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta,

gangsta. And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta,

thugsta.]


K-Mont:

Hey yo, I'm straight out of the bricks, and y'all

ain't worthy to serve me. I'm the type to jump out

your bushes and bust you

with the thirty-thirty. You want beef? I pack

pistol-packin' utilities. I'm the type of nigga

that'll send letterbombs to all my

enemies. I can't even walk to the airport for bein'

who I was. The police all on my dick, because they

recognize a thug. Nigga,

we tryin' to get money, we don't respect the police.

Until us thugs unite, it ain't gon' never be no

peace! Niggas be goin' to

school with nothin' but murda on they mind--givin' a

fuck about teachers, bustin' shotguns and nines.

Picture the scenes and

screams and everybody runnin'. Get on your

knees, and pray nigga, 'cause the Son of the Lord is

comin'.


Asu:

You know I came in time--that's my frame of mind.

Now I'm able to separate the deaf from the weak, dumb,

and the blind.

Niggas can't get none of mine--not even some of

mine. Just 'cause you got on a watch, nigga, don't

mean you know the time.

You stagnatin'. You fags hatin' my motion. From

ocean to ocean, my magic potion is devotion. The

nerve to hate what I

deserve to do wasn't a curse. It was a

signal--that's why that ass crashed, forgot to put on

your blinker. R.W.I.: rollin' while

infatuated. I graduated; now I want my Masters.

Y'all done agitated disaster, and at every end's a

start, I slip in the art with

my heart and soul. It's smart to roll, but dumb to

come. Don't become the one I fold like a lawnchair.

You shouldn't have

gone there. What's the deal with the long stares?

What's the purpose, jokers on earth surface to

surface, and any problem is

handled with same-day service?

Come on, come on, come on.


This how we livin'

these days . . .

[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta,

gangsta. And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta,

thugsta.]


Bam:

We run the blocks, stop the clocks, told the (?) to

not set trip--it's our spot, gave y'all shots, and let

the drama pop. Don't

escalate the 4-5-9, it's why we dead or alive.

Point of survival, let's get points with real niggas

lives. But you only see raw

meat on streets--these niggas love their heat.

Nowadays all bustas wanna thug like me. You see it be

(...?...) so simple,

execution style to gristle. From the chair, heard

'em whistle for my nigga. Mental is money, murda,

ridin', dumpin'. Head back

to all of y'all since every niggas are hard and

provin' they got the bigger balls. Scared of the

laws, told what he saw, and what

he lookin' like. Broke him off in the

midnight. I spared his life. I said this shit is

tight.


This how we livin'

these days . . .

[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta,

gangsta. And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta,

thugsta.]