-Bizzy Bone-Intro-
Yea uh yea (By the grace of Capo, in a moment of silence in the mist of tyrants and violence, and demons allliances/ Motherless children are born, Papa's the one who murdered her, witness the vision first hand, puppet master by sorcerers) Turn my vocals up, turn my vocals up turn em up turn em up a little mo' turn em up a little mo' turn em up, yea there we go (Uh, Bone Thugs, Capo, Dipset, Capo Jim Jones, you know what it is Diplomatic Immunity)
-Bizzy Bone
Born in the poverty, probably never get off the monopoly want me to stop wit all the monotony look at me awkwardly hide my brocolli, nigga what?/ Fuck the media, how could you come to me fatherly, bother me tell me to simmer it down/ Pop in the system, its worser now, melody murder bust around/ What if the rapture happened? Nigga just deeper than rappin, vanish or not/ Never gon' change my style, I do what I wanna, pop till they body rott stop/ Generation X, I am the mastermind, General Militant, Seventh Sign Revolution, rebellious totally outta line/ I'm still in the mind of apocalyptic, biblical optimistic thank my lucky stars/ Remember to say my graces, I'm so graceful god/ Take me to the promise land, all I see is cops with guns/ soap in my socks, county charges stuck in the struggle with number one/ Never will have a friend like me, reality checkin the crooked judge/ Mad because they rappin is over, we fuckin souljahs, we fuckin thugs/ And ain't nobody stoppin my fuckin drugs, if I could melt down the words and put em in plastic slugs, rip it to the nation let it go (Buck buck)/ Bitch, I would, speak your mind, even if they get offended cuz/ Ride off in the sunset with the street niggas, cause thats who I love/ Standin next to Capo, Twin Towers shoot up to the heaven skys, we rollin down the ninety five take the bridge I'm ready to die
-Bizzy Bone-Hook-
By the grace of Capo, grace of Capo in a moment of silence/ By the grace of Capo, in a moment of silence, in the mist of tyrants and silence, and demon alliances/ Motherless children are born, Papa's the one who murdered her/ Witness the vision first hand, puppet master by sorcerers
-(Bizzy Bone with) Jim Jones-Hook-
(By the grace of Capo, in this moment of silence) in the mist of tyrants and violence, I'm flossin my diamonds/ By the, grace of Capo, and the mist of the hood when it should be all good, but murders go down, you know they go down
-Jim Jones-
Straight out the projects B and I'm tellin yall it was so hard for me (So hard)/ Comin up hard in these Harlem streets (Tef) where niggas'll starve cause its hard to eat/ Some niggas'll rob in the marble streets/ Ridiculous all cause of hardcore creep/ Bitches that boost the credit card scammers, niggas that shoot than land it on blamers/ People say shoot cause they caught cocky by scammers (Swallie)/ So if you watch when the birds fly (Watch it), don't speed when ya swerve high (nope)/ Cause believe me, the third eye, puts a squeeze on you whole ride (Lockdown)/ See them hoes in my rear view, see the lord in my rear view (What else) pray the lord he can hear you (Why?) I'm a nigga on the corner/ Plus, my niggas on the corner need parental shit/ (?) crime that happened, I'm in this fahrenheit they call 'Nine Eleven', when I go to the crossroads, lord knows Ferrari white, when this highway to heaven (Forgive me lord)/ In these digital times, we all need to have a militant mind (That's right)/ Federalies be, technology, religous signs like astrology (They can see from the stars)/ When we walkin on egg shells, we talkin on phat cells(What happened?) we talkin through fed cells(Listen to me) we all know sex sells, with the drugs and rock n roll/ And when the drugs just lock the soul, don't blame it on c, got rich when Reagan came (Thats right) Bill Clinton rejuvenated us (You hear that?) It's all been on Bush who's been hatin us (Stupid niggas)/ Polices is who been chasin us (Thats right) in the streets they so afraid of us (Scared)/ From cuttin up water to fryin up coke, give a fuck about war/ We ain't tryin to vote (Votin) so if you draft me, jail me (You hear that?), or better yet kill me (Uh huh) cause I'd rather go to hell B, and theres nothin you could tell me (Call me Cashus)/ Cause we riskin ourselves, sittin in this cell, over punk ass nickle sales (Damn)/ With a grip from the twelve, spit out shells/ And I'm runnin out of time cause I'm livin in hell (Uh, yea)
-Jim Jones-Outro-
By the grace of Capo and this moment of silence and the mist of the violence the mist of the tyrants I'm flossin my talents. Yea, by the grace of Capo's nigga, you heard? Thats two strong armies nigga, two underbosses, we can't be stopped and we will not be talked down like the towers, you heard? We some political souljahs we ghettolutionist, we freedom fighters uh