Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - Wasteland Warriors 歌词

Krayzie:
Yeah, got my niggas from St. Clair up in this muthafucka, nigga. P.O.D.'d, my nigga, Sin, fin to put this shit down like this, nigga.
[We off to the ghetto, ghetto, ghetto . . .]
What if we slowed it down? Then, nigga, you would hear me. I know niggas would fuck around and say we tried to steal your style. Come on to funky town, that's where we gets the rawest, thuggish ruggish Bone, so sho' nuff, that's what they call us. My niggas is older, now, so they know when to unload. So, when them funky, funky jump me, gon' be ready to roll [ready to roll]. It's part of no static, see, we just out to get paid, but, oh no, niggas heard the flow and wanted a piece of the cake. It kinda pissed me off that (?) figured they could get skills, but when kept on disrespectin', make 'em think we shit's real, nigga. I'm from the Land where every nigga's plan is schemin' for the money, man, so we packin', and they don't understand them niggas rappin' but still they actin' like criminals. (?) reciprocal, they don't know it, even though. Oh, no, no, can't let you go. When I pop pop pop [pop, pop], that funk'll gon' blow you away. Playa hation strikes a nerve everyday.
Oh, gotta say fuck all y'all, all y'all. Wasteland warriors, we stressed, we stressed, we stressed.

Warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
Wasteland warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
War corruptin' my mind.

Souljah Boy:
You know it is, what it's gotta be, ain't no stoppin' me when I be droppin', and these Mo Thug roll the sword from the front and back, don't stop, but the Double Glock they don't look out for these (...?...) where your troops is down to get loose, bitch, sue these stupid muthafuckas, don't make me huff and puff and start some ruckus, 'cause the niggas be down for the count, and the first nigga step up, get shut down. You shouldna been takin' my fuckin' style that's how we still gon' do it in the C-Town, arrest me on the rebound. It's the P to the O to the D from the T to the H to the U to the G. You hoes ain't got mo' killas than me, so muthafuck what you speakin', brothas don't hit, they're weak and wrapped up in white sheet, while your bullethole still be bleedin', but here's the reason for the season's on my muthafuckin' bank. Why you lame, be actin' strange? Boom to bangs, nigga insanes, out to rearrange this muthafuckin' figure, knowin' damn well, I'm a muthafuckin' killa. Nigga, bow down, and I'm
outta your picture. Just might killa, got a cap peela, nine rounds spiller, we done muthafuck you and you don't wanna see fade 'em all with the blood heater, streetsweeper get your ass deceased.

Warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
Wasteland warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
War corruptin' my mind.

Bizzy:
Rip quick to kill ya, fill ya, and I hits that quick, nigga, what you saw was half the war (when a we beat your hoes) somebody's issuin' out my car, beat 'em and get long gone with a pistol in my (?) through me, runnin' through my pores, star, and they call war, ready for the cause, clones get the gun, end up gettin' them pinned, so (...?...) gotta break, your face be on that table, ready for more, y'all clone him, and what if I got my peeps to flip in and vote and go ahead and smoke 'em, open 'em up, and your luck get fucked-up, ready me buck buck buck, I'm still runnin' from feds, horror all across Rip's face, but I won't get caught in love. Uh-uh, when I makes you want it, yes, some are (?), I 'm thinkin' 'bout bloody, sip of the drink and roll, but I had gun before you knows, don't roll, and I gotta go and face it, so picture me nearly dearly gettin' judged, roll.

Layzie:
Aw, shit! Nowhere to run; here come judgement day. Let's make these jealous bitches pay, uh-huh. I'm off in the midst, and runnin' and chasin' and casin' your set, feelin' it might save me, baby, gotta be goin' through this life, I snatch your life just like it's a day, which type'll it be? Come and roll with this #l nigga in my 500 Benz, you know I got ends to spend, top ten (?), count dividends, and I'm rollin' still real. Attitude like, ''Nigga, what?'' And me Mo Thug Souljah Boy like all of 'em niggas Mo Thug employ in my city, destroy y'all, how wicked is this? It may be, nigga just gotta keep real, baby, lately. Little Lay been dodgin' hits, try to keep all my people safe and outta the way. And you know I get greater later, so I continue grindin'. It's all about perfect timin', feel me, it's about perfect timin', hear me. What's on my muthafuckin' mind in this: these playa haters got me pissed, bitch. But let me get my gauge. Leatherface, go get your mask. We gon' blast and roll on these
muthafuckin' niggas, everlastin', everlastin', everlastin', everlastin'--the #l Assassin.

Warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
Wasteland warriors ride.
[Bloody murder, bloody mo' murder murder, murder, murder, baby.]
War corruptin' my mind.

Oh, gotta say fuck all y'all, all y'all. Wasteland warriors, we stressed, we stressed, we stressed.
War corruptin' my mind.
Wasteland warriors ride.
War corruptin' my mind.
Wasteland warriors ride.
War corruptin' my mind.
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