"DOWN '71 (THE GETAWAY)"
BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY
[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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