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  • Текст песни Bone Thugs N Harmony F/ 2Pac - Thug Luv



    2Pac:
    Nigga, we doin' this shit from Cleveland to L.A., nigga, whatever you
    niggas want. We bringin' it! Thug luv, nigga. Bitch!
    What time is it? Yo, I don't give a fuck where you lay at, nigga, it's
    time to slay these bitch-made niggas.
    [Bizzy: Pac Pac run with us, run with us, run with us. Pac Pac run
    with us. Pac and Rip with thug luv.]
    They ain't even knowin' what type of niggas we is. Where my thugs at?
    [Cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout.]
    Bone thugs-n-harmony. I know you niggas been waitin' for this for a
    long time. Well, here it is, nigga. Here it is. What you
    gonna do with it?
    Bizzy:
    Well it must be close to the Armageddon, Lord. No, then I won't fly by
    that lesson, you taught me to pull out my Wesson, you
    brought me, and I'm not stressin' it softly. Get 'em up off me, 'cause
    all we wanted was harmony, been bombin' 'em, yell up
    outta my ghetto, I won't settle, get on my level. They can't stop me
    and pop me. Nigga, they got me? Fuck no. Little Pac
    gets schizophrenic, let's manage to damage all y'all. I'll talk about
    'em, and you don't really want it, 'cause they're cornered and
    I'm wantin' (...?...). I'm gonna say that we came to shut 'em all
    down. So quick to test, bullet, yes, I say war, roll, flow when I
    get the gun for the murda mo' horror, for what they did it all, pause
    for the cause, and I fin to pull a nine or pistol, a little nigga
    with mine. Fuck them niggas, it's on. All y'all fall. Bizzy gettin'
    bitches to test me, bless the floor, and any attempt to arrest me,
    stress me. Lord, lookin' at death, with the last of my breath. Follow,
    follow my kids, so they don't sin in my steps. Yet the
    weapon is kept with the best of my secrets, deep in the (leaves), I'm
    alone, nigga believe that I can see it, if needed, and if you
    really want me in, well then let it be, get the greens and we runnin'
    up over Cleveland [Cleveland].
    2Pac:
    Ha, ha! What's poppin', nigga? Put your muthafuckin' hands on your
    strap, nigga. Thug luv, nigga. Yeah, we can do this like
    gangstas and slug it out, or do this like punks and punk it out. Pull
    your strap on me, nigga, you better kill me. Thug luv, nigga.
    Thug lfe, baby. Thug luv.
    I probably be punished for hard livin', blind to the facts thugs is
    convicts in God's prison, hands on the strap. Prayin', so Father
    please forgive me. Police be rushin' when they see me, I flaunt it
    Americas Most Wanted live on T.V. Life: pleasure and pain,
    stuck in this game, holler my name. We all gon' die. We bleed through
    similar veins. Yous explain to me now. Don't panic
    when my guns burst. Heard the last jam, nigga? This one's worse. My
    nigga, Bone held the chrome 'til I came home. Thug
    luv playas, tell these bitch niggas bring it on. I caught a plane out
    to Cleveland late last evenin' to help my niggas clean up; some
    niggas no longer breathin'. Now, who do you believe in? Hit the weed
    and grieve. It's a cold ass world, niggas. Kill you in
    your sleep, watch me until they stop me, bury, murder me or drop me. I
    got thug luv for my nationwide posse, feel me.
    Layzie:
    Little thug from the Land, nigga never ran. Muthafuckas out to get me.
    They don't understand it's the #1 nigga out with a
    nation of niggas down to put it some work and do some dirt, fuckin'
    around with the band Bone thugs-n-harmony, follow down
    the road, we stroll to meet karma. Everything I do, it seem to cause
    drama. Ready for the war like a knight in my armor,
    bomb ya. So quick to test us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust. For the
    love of the lust, niggas bustin' on us. Hit 'em up with
    the buck 12 gauge eruptions. It's the art of war. Puttin' niggas on
    the floor when I'm comin' through the door, bringin' nothin'
    but terror, causin' much pain to the nigga that dared us, tried to put
    a twist in this thugsta era. Paired up with a nigga like Pac,
    and a nigga like me, gotta stay high. Thug luv 'till I die, keep my
    prayer to the sky, but I'm still in the hood, smoke and fry, so I
    beg the Lord save us all escapers of misery, bless my niggas in
    penetentary, soldiers of the century, yeah.
    Krayzie:
    Here to get it, told my niggas they need get the hell down with the
    dirt, and we don't fuck around. Buck a couple a rounds, and
    if your passin' through, then hit the ground, and don't get caught up
    in the crossfire, nigga. Artillery thick, and you don't wanna
    get to fuckin' with this, I'm straight devil, not a punk and pretend.
    I reload, buck a little mo'. Flee the scene 'fore the po-po
    even know. "So, who ya lookin' for?" They don't know. A mothafucka
    with a leather face. Hey, man, she said I ran this way,
    said I ran that a way. Ya'll hoes'll never know because I got away,
    yeah yeah. A criminal mind to keep a nigga on the level.
    Sometimes I get high, and analyze your crime. Correctly organized and
    with results, you'll be surprised.
    Wish:
    Oh, nigga, can you feel the vibe? We can ride. Playa hatin' niggas,
    you gotsta die, it's only right. It's over with, Bone, better
    leave it alone, Mo Thug come crack they fuckin' domes. Still in the
    hood, where the thugs play, fuckin' with nothin' but thugs,
    man, ain't takin' no shorts, or no losses. We crackin' them domes
    around my way. Give it to 'em on another level, nigga, get a
    shovel, you can dig a hole. Bitches is dead. Infrared to your head.
    You can beg, you go fled, but still gon' bleed bloody red.
    Fuck with mine, we'll be seen in the moonlight, 'cause we out ridin',
    lookin' for you [for you]. Better run for cover, nigga,
    duck. We about to bust. Strate got the infrared, put it on his
    forehead. Makes a move, send [flowers] straight to his home.
    Put a card in the muthafucka, send it to his mama. Tell her he was
    dead wrong, dead wrong. Gone, now we long gone, long,
    gone.
    Bizzy:
    Pac Pac run with us, run with us, run with us. Pac Pac run with us.
    Pac and Rip with thug luv.