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[Murmuring of courtroom.]

Thug 1:

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, what the fuck you doing?

Elder Thug:

Man, fuck that. Man, they got my nigga.

Thug 1:

Man, that shit ain`t even cool.

Elder Thug:

Support his ass.

Judge:

Okay, order in the court.

Court Attendant:

People versus 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. [Laughs,

turns maniacal.]



Bizzy:

We had to get `em up with two thugs, 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 cuffed. Little Layzie blew his head off. [Gunshot.]

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 fences. Rippin` up the trenches. I`m bailin` while



they trailin`. Better in hell than in a cell, and ain`t no tellin`

where them coppers 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 off 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, where 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. Sleep on. Gotta get away, put that on all me reefer.

Somehow must beat ya, so peep out the creep or the reaper

will meet ya.



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

and ready to bail, time to hit the trail, `cause they wanted

my nigga fried. Holdin` the Bible, when I got a grenade [Explosion.]



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 Zs, 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 it 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 2 (Bizzy):

Well, it seems as if them boys, Bizzy and Little Layzie, done

got theyselves into another jimmy.

Elder thug 3 (Layzie):

Well, I love to see them boys get theyselves outta this one.



Krayzie:

Sit as I wait in the smug, rollin` real fast like a dog, and

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`

off 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` a bible mission for

survival, nigga, so I 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 on. 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 get the switch, and I push the button. That boy came out the



trunk, and put it in drive. See that Souljah Boy buckin`, 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,

[St. Clair . . .] scream, "Mo!" Took one of my niggas off death

row,

now we got one mo` to go.

[Commotion.]

[Murmuring of courtroom.]

Thug 1:

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, what the fuck you doing?

Elder Thug:

Man, fuck that. Man, they got my nigga.

Thug 1:

Man, that shit ain`t even cool.

Elder Thug:

Support his ass.

Judge:

Okay, order in the court.

Court Attendant:

People versus 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. [Laughs,

turns maniacal.]



Bizzy:

We had to get `em up with two thugs, 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 cuffed. Little Layzie blew his head off. [Gunshot.]

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 fences. Rippin` up the trenches. I`m bailin` while



they trailin`. Better in hell than in a cell, and ain`t no tellin`

where them coppers 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 off 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, where 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. Sleep on. Gotta get away, put that on all me reefer.

Somehow must beat ya, so peep out the creep or the reaper

will meet ya.



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

and ready to bail, time to hit the trail, `cause they wanted

my nigga fried. Holdin` the Bible, when I got a grenade [Explosion.]



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 Zs, 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 it 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 2 (Bizzy):

Well, it seems as if them boys, Bizzy and Little Layzie, done

got theyselves into another jimmy.

Elder thug 3 (Layzie):

Well, I love to see them boys get theyselves outta this one.



Krayzie:

Sit as I wait in the smug, rollin` real fast like a dog, and

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`

off 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` a bible mission for

survival, nigga, so I 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 on. 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 get the switch, and I push the button. That boy came out the



trunk, and put it in drive. See that Souljah Boy buckin`, 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,

[St. Clair . . .] scream, "Mo!" Took one of my niggas off death

row,

now we got one mo` to go.

[Commotion.]

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