Из альбома: The Art of War

Layzie:
It's all about Mo Trues Humbly United Gathering Souls. Babi Boi, my
Angel, Daddy'll meet you at the Crossroads
[Crossroads].
Bizzy:
Babi Boi . . .
Layzie:
Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.
[Everybody] Everybody by now you should know my label, my thugsta,
these things guidin' your struggles. All it is, is about
this hustle, whatever it takes to piece this puzzle, why declare war
on these fakers and haters eliminate us, traitors (...?...)
These are the days of our lives [lives]. Do or die, (that died to
Boo--he go bye) Whom Die They Lie in the face of our society.
Tried a (?) attempt to quiet me, and got a nation that's down to ride
with me. Here's the deal, can I get a witness? It's deeper
than survival. Who am I? My brother's keeper? Yeah, I be clutchin' on
my Bible, willing to die. The wicked is near me,
dearly departed, but nobody hears me. 'Cause we all gon' fall in
misery. It's so serious, it bring tears to me. Here's to the
street, like a drop to the beat, creepin' up my block. I'm already
knowin' a nigga wanna do me, so I stay strapped. (Don't pose
for the cop), crooked cops, they gonna harass me, ask me the same ol'
bullshit questions, knowin' I'm a thug, (will bust a
gauge), keepin' a pistol in my possession, but a thuggish ruggish
soldier like myself gon' move on, and prevail, avoid jail, collect
my mill with my Bones, splittin' domes.
Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come
on, don't make me hurt ya. Come on, come on,
come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, all about that
bloody murder. Come on, come on, come on, come
on, come on, come on, come on, come on, make a move and I'll have to
hurt ya. Come on, come on, come on, come on,
come on, come on, come on, come on, all about that bloody murder.
Bizzy:
Baby Boi . . .
Layzie:
Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.
(Stick to this dance) and struggle, addicted to trouble, we never
goin' change. My (?), thugs, see. Soldiers, I think we must be
to O.G. (?) loves thee. Mama plead my family tree never helped a
mother come up, seen it was hard tryin' to bring her sons
up--they dwelled on the worse and ate nothin' for done up, comin' up,
made it, eternal, in the struggle. Thank God. I'm a
count my blessin', trouble but never no stressin', just started a
lesson, 'cause life will be runnin' that test and better off in a
cell.
See a nigga walkin' the streets, and they label us foolish. Trouble
'cause I always knew this, while the rest of my days I livin' in
Ruthless. Fuck what you're thinkin', law, my Judge is up Heaven. Look
at my stomach and see the "7," even scares us how
I'm bailin', rebellin', tellin' y'all nothin' but a soldier tell,
critic can kiss my ass. I might go to thinkin' about my past, get mad,
I
reach in my stash and blast. Fuck all y'all that treated a nigga like
we wasn't shit, and soon as we hit, now what do we get?
These fake-ass niggas tryin' to get in our click, all on our dick, but
you can miss me, actin' phony in my presence, love it or
leave it. You can't believe it. It ain't that season. Get to steppin',
hater.
Only Mo Thug allowed, say it loud, Mo Thug and I'm proud. Mo Thug and
I'm proud.
Loud! Proud! Loud! Proud!
Bizzy:
Baby Boi . . .
Layzie:
Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.
Better watch for the nightfall when them come, better watch out for
the night stormers. No light's in sight when them run, but
them lights would warned ya. Caught ya slippin' up out of your game,
playa. Wasteland soldier, see what we facin', chasin'
po-po on the hood like Jason, casin' your (?), fin to blow your
station instantly. Fin to be World War 3, ya can't fuck with my
family, try to test a man, and we single-handedly take over your mind
and the rest of the planet. See, I'll be damned if we
surrender, a G that's still no pretender, put it all down, make 'em
all remember: deep in Hell is where I'll send ya. Welcome to
the Land of more indo. We smoke. We choke. You know we blaze. Break
out any cup with the pipe, what's up? Parlay,
come around my way. Lay, keep it real. Keep it real. Peace be still,
time after time, can't forget that money, man, that money,
man. Mo' money be on mind, bottom line.
Bizzy:
Baby Boi . . .
Layzie:
Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.

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