| | | Artiste: | Bone Thugs N Harmony |
| | Album: | The Art of War, Disc 1: World War I | | Titre: | Family Tree | | | | Date d'ajout: | 18/10/2007 | | Vues: | 57 fois | | | | Paroles: | Krayzie:
Yeah, come on, come on, come on. This is my family. This is my
family, my
family.
Layzie:
Lord, help make up my mind. Which way do I turn, when there's
so
much stress surroundin' me daily? This world's so cruel and shady, and I
really do
miss my baby, Babi Boi. Oh, boy, me and your bigger brother,
we keeps it realer. You'll
always be our little nigga, and I know your
mama miss ya. Picture the day, when I get my
callin', but until then, I
guess I'm stuck. Oh, fuck. Let T know I miss him much. When I get
to
heaven, Babi Boi, what's up? We can ride and roll, I know, without
those po-po
trailin', bailin' all the way to heaven, bet you that's a
promise. Comin' with the bombs
[bombs]. Niggas can't test us. Creep,
defeat is on you, (bleed). Rollin' with the niggas
that pack the heat and a
sack of weed, straight outta control, testin' souls, hoes, niggaroes,
playa
haters, and the po-pos as well. If we could (?) everybody (?), am I livin'
in Hell?
Nigga really can't tell, so I prepare for the worst, and hope for
the best, and the rest is
written. Some wanna treat me like I'm forbidden,
but I'm just lookin' for the shit that's
hidden. Could I be? Come a little
bit closer, why you cautious when you approach us? Is you
scared of the
fact we soldiers? Mo Thug Records fin to take shit over. Under my
halo,
pray more, say Mo Thug with love to the depth that game goes. Die
all of you hoes, foes, and
you po-pos. Nigga, better roll or get rolled
over. We shuttin' shit down. And you know a
nigga love to get
buckwild. Pow. Come fuck with me, now, now,
now.
Krayzie:
This is my family. This is my family, my
family.
Bizzy:
Thug lovesick, my hood is in drug prison. The end is my
mission, we
heatin' shit. Why vision? Be crooked, (?) and sin is beginnin' of my
endin'.
I went in my Benz, but why's my mind spinnin'? And then I'll say,
"Hey, fuck 'em. My family
ain't livin' for nothin'. We strugglin' was one
of the reasons I'm thuggin' and steady stay
hustlin'." Where was my
lovin'? Somebody tell me somethin', (?) nothin'. If I give you one
of
your (touch), will you buck it all up for the love of (lush)? Hoes, I loves
you so,
but unlike my friend, you're just my foe. Peace 'til the end of the
road. That's where I'll
go. But no, nigga, don't lose your soul, but it's so
cold. Trust in mine, all right, then we
can roll, roll, roll.
Krayzie:
This is my family. This is my family, my
family.
Wish:
Was ya too young, mama and daddy, when you laid down and had
some
(eggs)? And I remember y'all breakin' up, and shippin' us off back to the
Land.
Damn, what went wrong? Was it me? But I ain't mad at ya,
'cause outta all this shit, I got 2
sisters and a brother, and I learned to
harmony on the streets of the Clair, that's where I'm
from, y'all, on the
streets of the Clair, that's where I met Mo Thugs, y'all. Oh, shit! Time
to
be a man. Gotta get out the house, 'cause I stand Mommy's man--he talks
with his hand.
Come, come creep on the streets with me: this where I
learned how to sell drugs, it's where I
learned how to pump slugs. It's
necessary, necessary for me to get down for mine, so I creep
and I grind,
knock, knock, kickin' down doors, kill a nigga, sleep, give it up when
you
die. And I know that shit was wrong, but don't blame me, blame the
thugsta in me,
'cause that's where that shit comes from [comes from].
Bloody redrum. Nigga, we nothin' but
survivors. Rest in peace to the
gauge, they collide with us. We survivors, that's why we be .
. .
Krayzie:
This is my family. This is my family, my
family.
Krayzie:
Get ready to duck, bitch, or get fucked up, boy, don't fuck
around, and
get zipped in a body bag off in a grave, and your brains'll be
hangin'.
Damaged bodies dragged off. Everyday we see more niggas hatin', fakin',
playa
hation--that's gettin' contagious. Why do these niggas think they
can break us? When I grab
my pump, y'all niggas better try to grab what's
left of your chest. Niggas be talkin' and then
they get caught up in shit.
Now meet them faces of death. We never be talkin', and they dogged
us,
man. It's all the same, but what do we gain by giving you niggas fame?
So we let the
records show. The forty-four mag'll tag 'em, stack up them
niggas who try to compete with
platinum. All of them callin' me, follow
me down to me corner, slip up and your gonna get
blasted. What do you
wanna test me for? Jealousy? Nigga, drop. Nigga, we bet you
plottin',
that's why them triggers be cocked everytime. Shoot 'em 99 times out of
100.
We gon' hit somebody. Somebody gon' take a (?) yeah. Y'all know
he gets carried off with the
bodies. Mo (mileage) y'all find us smokin'
that grass. Nigga, pass the pump. Hey, Rip, he
takin' a loss, and wakin'
up in that coffin. Oh, nigga, that's why all of these playa hate us,
man,
but when we come, they run, but we're gonna catch 'em, and one day
God forgive me, I
don't know what got in me, but pin me, they're gonna
all fall down, way down, face down. Ain't
got nothin' but love, still
niggas wanna test my nuts, and nigga you know that [that, that,
that, you
know we didn't know that, that, that], so nigga you know that [that, that,
that]
them thugstas niggas [I figured you'd know that, that, that, that] stay
strapped [strapped],
won't hestitate [you niggas should know that, that,
that, that] to bust back [yeah, yeah, yeah,
my niggas you know that . . .]
It's nineteen ninety-nine. It's almost nineteen
ninety-nine.
[Gunshot | | | |
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