Bizzy:
There is no way in hell [marching factions...] that the blind can lead the blind [...regime takin' over my body...], unless somebody play the dog [...intertwined into my soul.]. Split personality, -ality, -ality. Split personality, -ality, -ality. I'm in reality. [Foward march.] Waitin' for warfare. Waitin' for warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare. My army, marchin' factions, regime takin' over my body it seems. Regime, regime. [Forward march.]
Bizzy:
Hear the eruption when I'm pumpin and bustin', gotta give a concussion. Lovin' the lust and plus to touch me, rush me, too much, you must be out of your mind. Trust me, I'm the nigga dumpin', tell 'em lovely. All the way from the Clair to the PO and down '71 we on to the C.O. and fuckin' with the B-O-N-E hit the floor and go, and again we hit the door.
Capo:
Ammo explode, rappin' in platinum, Capo ballin' out of control. Provoked
emotions, devotion, capture bankroll, behold the unknown treasure. Cherish your soul precious as solid gold roses thrown over decomposed bodies froze, expose those who chose to impose sleep. Deceased, buried six feet deep beneath hollow stone, tragedy prolong memories, harmony, sing another sad song. Unsolved mysteries involve society. Only strong minds survive holocaust victims soft in our life die off. The broke caught slippin', steppin' in deep shit, broke busta off ignorance lost. Runnin' because the pussy wish he had some balls to brawl with me us heartless hennessy havin' a tendency to empy cartriges off on enemy targets .Regardless of felony charges still spittin' ammunition, til mission accomplished.
Bizzy:
We're movin' in heaven's movie, my lil' nigga, watch out! Waitin' for warfare. Waitin' for warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare. My army, marchin' factions, regime takin' over my body it seems. Regime, regime.
Bizzy:
Well I'm a soldier, fuck the TV. See me when they bring back 3D. Even on Eazy bookin' on me, lookin' at Ruthless now, she so sleazy. Gimme some cheese! And I see that you're scheming on the comedians now, but leave me, bitch. You better believe can't nobody save you when I move my music underground. And don't deceive me, please, get up off your knees, I'm all about business, ask Animal. I ain't your victim and a witness to the sickness written. Did I piss you off? On a mission in the midst of the demons bankin' off my voice and makin' my choices. She don't even know me and I'm kickin' and screamin' tryin' to get out my dreams, at least to keep me breathin'. Even poisoned the noise, got me coverin' my ears, and save my tears for years, just for the joy. But I told ya boy, not today, I gotta get my paper.And will the rapist pull my plug and fuck the thug? Hell yeah, nigga, no love. I thought you knew and nigga don't shove cause I'm like, nigga what? I'll fuck you up you know the rules. Regime takin' over my bod
y it seems. Waitin' for warfare. I can smell your wicked rigormortis a mile
from the morgue. The scorn in your soul may tell you to humiliate your enemies. Have not you read the Art of War? Absent-minded to the enduring. Pouring your cup of damnation in the midst of my world. You gotta be out of your monkey-ass mind. No more will the look of Medusa seduce the predecessors and entrepreneurs.
Capo:
Retaliation, I can taste temptation. Itchin', instigatin' allegations.
Undertakin' sacred assassinations. Dead presidents, weapons, and nations.
Independence foresaken. Revelations in the making. Bitch-made niggas breakin'. Separate by segregation. Hatred they motivation. No relation in this congregation. Load weapons [B, pass me a clip!] trigger detonations. Bullet penetrate, men break, strain. Pain and frustration. Abstain. Chain-reaction tribulations. Safe to say you can't escape disaster when messin' with a master. Unmask the Ripsta's little riddler, nigga gon' be killas.
Bizzy:
Gotta get you more money, come on my little brother. And I brung him. Thug on. I got him fuckin' with the revolution all on the retribution and execution. Shootin', let 'em, do 'em. Get gone, done made a bomb bond. None of y'all pinned my strategize. I heard Bizzy's fried, I heard Bizzy died, but the word from Bryon: Surprise, I'm still alive with a militant mind. Gotta hit it, will die in a minute, did he feel it? Well then get it. Rewind, you just trippin' on a nigga tryin' to shine, but I'm'a get mine and I ain't lyin'. Nigga everytime I sign the dotted line it's for the riot. Nigga what you want to do and I ain't dyin' without you in the silence will kill ya, it's the quiet ones who that might peel ya. On the realer, on the lonely and I see that you're phoney, nobdy. Phone me
and surely I'm out the door and don't you come for me.And it's still fuck Paul McCartney for sure, let it go. I know and boy I will enjoy a little toe to toe, but no, you'd probably involve the po po and tell them that you went to jail with Bizzy Bone. It's on in the C.O.