-Bizzy Bone-
Hey! It's the Martin, the Malcom, and the Bobby, and the Huewy/ Ebony ivory/ Brothers, the others, the indians/ Gentlemen, business executives swing on the pendulums/ Livin' legend, jury, veterens/ No need to tell 'em, they know who we better than/ These cigarettes killin' me, ebony ivory/ Peace and war, one hell of a diary/ See, I can get serious, dig in ya'll chest cause people been rubbin' they bulletproof vest/ They so concerned with who is the best, I don't even think about it/ I done put my publicist on and said "Ya'll motherfuckers, go read about it" and then sing about it "Bizzy done went solo, man, how this?"
-Kevin Rowe and Llan-Chorus-
Sit back, relax and have a puff or two cause all we really tryin' to do is get high wit'chu/ That's just how we do/ Sit back, relax and pop a peek-a-chu/ Cause all we really want to do is roll wit you/ That's just how we do
-Bizzy Bone-
Seven's my family, that's for the industry not understandin' me/ Handin' me hard money, all of the vanity, losin' me sanity, damned to be, damper me/ Had to be mad at me, doubted me, just like my Daddy/ Niggas don't rattle me, ratted me/ Armageddon, to the sadle, we ride/ Whateva whateva, I'm ready to die/ Sever the ties, dead or alive, hopefully all of my niggas'll fly/ Some'll rise like some of the times cause they didn't want to see Little B shine/ Leader of 7 and that is the sign, holdin' the line, out of my mind/ Nigga, rewind! Tell 'em my crime/ Bizzy ain't finna sip none of your wine, ya wine, ya wine
-Chorus-
-Bizzy Bone-
That's all the fingertip trippin' to the slow motion/ I roll with my niggas in the keep, we all knowin'/ Flowin' and goin' and goin' and goin' and goin'/ The original flippin' with the pimpin' of your poet/ Bubblin' doubblin' thuggin' lovin' my niggas/ Brothers and mothers, aunts, uncles and cousins/ Through the winter and all of the liquor we (?) bit it around (?) freakin' the mild and runnin' around the town/ Pull up on suckers and put a gun to mah pucker/ Fuck ya'll! I'm a be the mother motherfucker, trust ya'll no furthur/ That's all, now I'm goin' undercover, better go underground when you found nobody love ya/ But I stay in the ghetto watchin' these ladies pullin' love petals/ It's fucked up, but damn, I'm still humble
-Chorus-