We're not against rap.  We're not against rappers.  
But we are against those thugs [thugs, thugs, thugs].

Oh, it's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone.

You're feelin' the strength of the rump, step up, hear the funk of the jump that the thugstas feel, just be thuggin', straight buzzin', lovin' your peoples 'cause we so real.  Chill, better bring your weapon, when steppin', bring on that ammunition, trip and don't slip, not to mention, never knew no competition.  But I gotta get mine, so scream out, "Mo!" and let me hear ya holler, not about that mighty dollar, ro1l with the Bone, mo' thugs will follow.  Chain gang remainin' the same, flamin' my dank and drinkin' brew, thinkin' about that hangin', clockin' my bank, and thuggin' trues, fools.

It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone.  

Get ready for the Bone and the Mo Thug, bustas, you know me as a hustla. Try to creep and get beat, make me succeed, peep, gotta put them under.  Strate Jacket's gotta make that money, man.  It's still the same, now, bailin' in my black, trench vest.  You gotta be down to bang bang.  Come and get this teachin', ya soldiers, how thugstas must stack.  Me drinkin' me brew 'til me skull crack, (?) on our way back. 

It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone.

Now follow me, now, roll, stroll, off deep in the Land.  Well, creep if you can, take another swig to the brain, (Rose), loc'in', steady chokin' off that potent smoke and runnin' from the po-po, now.  Gotta get 'em up with my thugstas, right turn to the double glock.  Pull to the curb, smoke with my hustlas.  Puff, puff, puff to the brain shot, love P.O.D.'ded and tweeded, gotta get another case for my trunk.  Olde English, really don't need it, but in case my trues wanna get drunk.  They pump Bone, so leave 'em alone--you don't wanna get shut down.  Thug runnin' the nine-quat, and you better believe they be wantin' this thug style, so what now?  See the Bone thug claim, thug never gonna change, so flame up.  Sit back and just smoke to the same cut, Leather Face on the creep, and I came up.  

It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone.

Gotta give it on up to the glock glock, pop pop, better drop when them buckshot blow.  The Bone in me never no ho, so no creepin' up outta the ziplock.  So, Sin, sip gin, and Lil' Mo Heart run up, nut up, and flipped in, then slipped in the clip then, mistakin' they bloody victims.  Ever if ya test nuts, to the chest and put 'em to rest, and, but I won't test bucks, put a hole up into me vest, and gotta get through my soul, but they won't budge, mud, drug me victim.  The blood in me runnin' my mental, the thug in me, stuck in me, keepin' it simple, the Bone in me runnin' with thugs so, to the temple, buck when you duck to the thuggish ruggish T's.  St. Clair P's, to appeal to the G's, and a buck to all my enemies.

It's the Thuggish  Ruggish Bone.
We've got Layzie and'a Krayzie.
Bizzy's in the house.  Wish is in the house,
and Flesh, and Shatasha.  
Cleveland's definitely in the house.
It's the Thuggish Ruggish Bone.

"Thuggish Ruggish Bone" Lyrics
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WasteLand Lyrics: The Art of Bone.  
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