Bizzy Bone – Thugz Cry



Bizzy:

. . . when the thugs cry

This is what it sounds like [this is what it sounds like, this is what

it sounds like . . .] . . .

. . . when the thugs cry [when the thugs cry, when the thugs cry].



Bizzy:

Nigga, we represent the planet. Get schizophrenic and panic. Maybe

their parents would understand if they get off they ass.

And man, how do you manage? Paranoid, don't even trust my boys. Watch

for them plots and the ploys, and boys scopin'

like a dope fiend, when I'm smoked in these alleys with these ghetto

guns and erased muthafuckin' Watts niggas in Cali take

bullets to the brains, still rowdy. Jesus really never died--you

crucified Him to a suicide. Who am I? Loco with vocals, goin'

coast to coast. Heaven'll move me, right, for sure. Deception within

my brethren, but sunny days when I parlay. Get killed

when I get to steppin'. Remember the weapon (come) and the doctor said

I need time to myself where ocean flows, Rip in

this, thug for the Bone, up puttin' this independent stardom. Seven

relentless evil intentions, nobody knows 'em, Im even a

hitman. Where will you go? We never did mention about my lady

rebel. And we can get this choke on. And we can get

this choke on. And we can get this choke on. And we can get this

smoke on, when the thugs cry.



This is what it sounds like (this is what it sounds like,)

. . when the thugs cry

[when the thugs cry, when the thugs cry].

[Are you ready, ready?]



Bizzy:

We keepin' the lights on at Ruthless and I ain't fuckin' the boss,

lookin' at me sexy. Take your clothes off, and my dick'll go

soft. Never mix business with your sickness. Enemy see me trippin'

at the picnic with your little divide and conquer, but my

sister was ready to bomb her. Get off the diznick and up off my

boys. Me and my boys, give us a choice. How could you

ever tell Sony that I was the only one was makin' noise? Ain't it a

breech of trust? Look in the gutter. Ha! Never judge your

book by the cover. Word to the muthafucka! Huh, I didn't studder.

But what if I lost and I came in the office, and nobody

noticed went in with explosives on top of Versace clothes. Give up the

ghost. Krayzie's Picasso. Little Layzie's like Caesar.

Stack's like Joe Pesci in Casino, and Wish don't give a fuck, ho. I'm

Gambino. And the walking dead woke up on the wrong

side of the bed. Bible of survival, triple six rivals [triple six

rivals, rivals]--none of you said, but I roll with killas, niggas

that'll bust a nigga. We don't feel strapped in the bed, kickin' up the

camp on the realest, the realest, the realest.



This is what it sounds like

(this is what it sounds like).

[Yeah, yeah, yeah . . . ]

. . . when the thugs cry

[when the thugs cry, when the thugs cry].

[Are you ready, ready, ready?] Oh no!



Bizzy:

Here to make your body shake, when it's too late, soon as you flipped

off the safety. Baby, this be all day, don't tell me you

crazy. Would they tell me? Hell, naw. But the reason there's

weepin', we off with a demon, so cheap. And at least she

peekin', so peep deep down in your pockets. Don't sleep, runnin' with

my crucifix, Lucifer usually uses it to rule all these

wicked tricks in the school of these ghetto games. And the fool, this

bitch is missin'. Shame, shame, shame. Enemies attackin'

me. Actually I'm in the grave, ask Mr. Majesty. These

casualties--well, they passin' me by, but I hear death callin', when

it's

so cold in a room, who's stallin'? Better come after me, and we say,

"Fuck ya'll." Haul into battle [we battle, battle