"RUMORS & WAR"
GRAVEYARD SHIFT featuring Flesh-N-Bone
Two blocks from the war niggas die for that infantry.
If I lay me down to sleep, I die for that S-C-T.
Mo' murda's jumpin' on that Clairside for the late night.
Rumors and war just cannot fuck with them soldiers, boy.
Boy tried to ride, yeah, he died. The trigger just slipped up under my fingertips. Now, another nigga dead, 'cause that lead speak for itself. And murder be said, the nigga had me in red, but I be damned if the murder (...?...). These warriors and rebels, we never failed to slug yet. Don't get get until we get the snitches that's hatin' the playas. Never knew Tombstone worked to slay ya. Trick ass niggas, we comin' to lay ya. Don't think po-po can save ya. The Yard's ready to grave ya. Snap, cripple, then I popped his ass, to whom it's concerned. The lesson to be learned, you'll get burned to a crisp, they cleanin' your urn, and you're about to achieve, but I'm sick and tired of you niggas talkin' shit. I'm sick and tired of you niggas startin' shit, rumors and war. Just cannot fuck when them soldiers, boy.
Put 'em all in the dirt when my glock pop slugs, I'm slippin' up out this chamber. When my glock cocked, danger. This hustla, just givin' on up to the gangsta shifter, Clair soldier, gonna stalk ya, pulls the lever, do a homicide, a murder, that's the way Mo Thugs gonna serve ya. Ya takin' a buck and closin' that trunk. I'm sendin' that body to Hades. I'm slangin' mo slugs 'round Mo Thugs, bitch. These niggas, them crazy, insane, see, is this nigga when I handle that chrome. We stayin' home to escape the murderous game. We pray them soldiers live another day.
Hello, hello, hello infantry.
You niggas can't fuck with the S-C-T's.
This click too muthafuckin' strong.
My niggas be thuggin' all year long.
Straight for destruction, pray they comin' for eternal torture. Mental forces cold deformin' and then distortin', set a nigga up for a slaughter. Wicked illusions keep confusin', dilutin' my (rage...?), try to duck and dodge, don't never want to be a casualty. So, stop. Take a breath. Brought a gauge, 'cause a nigga be damned if I go back in that cage. Pump 'em off with a slug. I'm a thug. Got to buck 'em, coppers off in that grave. And it's much too late, I can't be saved. I tried to pray, so death is the only way, deep in hell is where I stay. I suffer tortures, all them wars, and stompin' soldiers. Infantry movin' in. Then we come to destroy ya, lure ya into a trap and snap that back. So ya better be equipped and pack that gat. Don't slack. Them skulls, they crack, and work in the dirt. Now my (party) laid back.
We are Mo Thugs.
Mighty, mighty warriors.
Ghetto bound soldiers.
(Credit hustlas, them bouncin' the top.) I'm chillin' off on my block, feelin' nasty. Droppin' down to them SCTs. Pullin' triggers on bitches stay down on double glock. Me kill ya. Murder plots for the money. Servin' 'em bloody mo' redrum. Wet 'em in a battle, had a little nigga gun gun blast. Buckshot blows you too with a forty-four magnum, and it was laughin' at you. Mad for the dash for safety, bet you this spray on this one in his head and gone. Runnin' through this Mo Thug town, dumpin' bullets, (check the time), what the fuck? They wanna test Flesh Bone. And I make 'em all bow down. (?) givin' up (?) praise to the Wastleland [the Wasteland, the Wasteland, the Wasteland]. You see its so shitty when the people keep deep in the creep up and make it, man. And if you claim, you untame us, stay down for your shit. Let your nuts hang. Better believe a gang of Mo Thug-ass niggas, they true to this shit, let us reign home. My chrome, decapitate a playa hater, pap, pap. Peelin' is life, and I'm rollin'. Always remember soldier boys, we packin' two blocks from the war, cockin' 'em back, poppin' em, bitch, you be foldin' [foldin'] We told you.
"Rumors & War" Lyrics
Copyright © MCMXCVIII
WasteLand Lyrics: The Art of Bone.
All rights reserved.