Fifth Harmony – Top Down scritto da admin 19 Gennaio 2016 [High Thug] Playa hatin’ ass muthafuckas man. Fuck that! Man put that shit out, man. Ain’t ‘posed to be smokin’ no muthafuckin’ weed in court. [Man, fuck that. Man, they got my nigga] Man, what the fuck you doing? Aw man, that shit ain’t even cool. [Support his ass.] Judge Okay, order in the court. Court Attendant People vs. Bone Thugs~N~Harmony–Case #C601999. Bailiff Will the defendant please stand! Is there anything you wish to say on this matter before sentencing, Bizzy Bone? Bizzy Naw, man! Spectator You know the muthafucka did it! Bailiff Well the court sentences you to death by electric chair. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Bizzy We had to get ‘em up with two guns, runnin’ side by side with #1. Bet I won’t drop my gauge on when the po-po chase. If they catch me barehanded, I’m done. Rip’s gripping the six-shot pump, so spill it. Copper lettin’ the lead off. Copper thought that he had me caught. Little Layzie blew his head off. Get ‘em up, and get up. The bullets, they start to get lit up. #1 best start duckin’ with a gun already buckin’. We split up. Bust a left on the double-glock and, where the fiends roll up for rocks, and this perfect getaway from the pigs when I peel, and I hit the fence and rippin’ up the trench, and I’m bailin’ while they trailin’. Better in hell than in a cell, and ain’t no tellin’ where them copper be dwellin’. One had spotted me, picked up a piece and shot at me, but I practice what I preach, so see the two slugs up in his body?–Got him! Run with smoke comin’ from the barrel of me gun. Hit the bend. Oh, what a dumb-dumb, I got yum-yummed on a dead end. They set in then they lead in. They wanted me up in a coffin. Cops from everywhere was yellin’ and wailin’. I went unconscious from the stompin’. Takin’ a loss, and wakin’ up in that coffin. And without no stallin’, cell I was tossed in, to be arraigned at dawn. Me lookin’ in the eyes of a judge. He knew right where to put that thug, straight to the cell with no parole in the hole, but I won’t budge. Sent me to death row, watchin’ the time by fly past, but Rip’ll be sittin’ mindless, never spineless, in silence, hopin’ I die fast. But chill, (No doubt). sleeper. Gotta get away, put that on a me reefer. Somehow must beat ‘cha. So peep out the creep or the reaper will meet ‘cha. Layzie Bailin’ on a mission, flippin’ the script, better check what the wind just blew in. Better think again. It’s a preacher with a grin on a mission for revenge with that MAC-10. Little nigga Rip (We’ll…) had to empty the clip, (…kill) had to pump them slugs up in to them cops, and he made them drop, glock went pop-pop, going out with my thug on the double-glock. Back from hell (hell) and ready to bail, (bail) time to hit the trail, ‘cause they wanted my nigga fried. Holdin’ the Bible, when I got a grenade. Inside, the squad gettin’ ready for the rumble, when I heard them mumbles, pullin’ me gauge and laughter. Keep buckin’ them faster. All I was thinkin’ when I seen them bustas scatter. Better watch out for them buckshots ‘cause them can’t fade me gauge. Gotta bust some souls in their graves, so I’m buckin’ him straight to the pave. Can’t be safe. I’m buckin’. Little Ripsta reinforcements comin’ in fast and blast. Gave my nigga, Double Z’s, the MAC-10, lettin’ that gun-gun blast on they ass. Gotta rip in them chests through vests, MAC-10s, sawed-off eruptions. Got plenty ammunition, them missin’, listen, destruction. I’m bustin’. ‘Cause I’m makin’ that getaway, ‘bout to getaway, niggas got to escape, and it’s never too late, when you dash and try to break, nigga, just can’t test the Bone fate. We steadily runnin’, duckin’, comin’ up to the front door?barracaded. And I pulled a grenade. Tossed to the door, let it explode, and we made it. Creepin’ through the courtyard, saw Krayzie. Feelin’ safety comin’, hittin’ the fence and jumpin’ it quick, from Krayzie’s TEC-9 bullets on me. Elder thug (Bizzy) Well, it seems as if them boys, Bizzy, Little Layzie, done got theyselves into another jimmy. Elder thug (Layzie) Well, I’d love to see the boys get theyselves outta this one. Krayzie Soon as I went in the smoke, rollin’ real fast like a dog. It began with a rage, and the gauge can’t let go. They done labeled my nigga psychotic, bitches has got him sittin’ on death row. Scopin’ out the tower, peepin’ the scene so when my niggas trail, screamin’ out, "one-eighty-seven," and bail. Gotta get my nigga, Rip, out the cell. It’s all organized, how my nigga, #1 disguised as the preacher won’t be pullin’ no bible mission for survival. Nigga, so creep the TEC-millimeter. Somebody done pulled the alarm. Now, it’s on. Slaughterin’, Bone sprayed off the TEC, gotta let him know which way was home. We got gone, but them holice was pullin’ up quick. Nigga, what’s up? Quick, bust in first. When you hit that fence, niggas get cut the fuck up. We’re steady buckin’, steady duckin’, buckin’, while I was jumpin’. All we was thinkin’ is, "Don’t get caught." Nigga, like me, get the gun, run and gunnin’, frontin’ with thugs. Gotta get to the smug, turn around and we pump slugs, put ‘em in the mud. And all across my face was, "I’d rather lay in blood." Dodgin’, now who made the gun blew with the swoop, bailin’ back home with my troops. I’m runnin’ with four crazy niggas, that’s down with they niggas, they ain’t scared to shoot. Now we’re rollin’. No more than a half a mile we get stopped. Cops surround Bone. We load glocks and squeeze, say, "Fuck all these roadblocks!" Busted a "U", then put that bitch in reverse, and I hit the switch, and I push the button. That boy came out the trunk, and put it in drive. Sent this Souljah boy walkin back in the other direction. Po-po came quick, them heat up. Niggas glanced at each other, opened up they doors, and they kicked they feet up. I jumped outta the car, had to jump over the hood, ‘cause I’m headed straight for the woods. My niggas, they followed behind me. We getaway smooth, a nigga made good. Came up quick to the hideout, waited ‘til midnight ‘til we ride out. Hid a car so we could drive out. While we waited, we all got fried out, fool. If you’s a thuggish-ruggish thug, nigga, scream, "Mo!" Took one of my niggas off death row, now we got 1 mo’ to go. [?St. Clair! St. Clair! St. Clair!