Won't EZ Up Tonight

"WON'T EZ UP TONIGHT"
KRAYZIE BONE

Scandalous, scandalous, scandalous . . . scandalous niggas won't ease up tonight . . .
Niggas on the street don't sleep until we eat. We won't ease up tonight even if it means we got to pop 'em. For the profit, we drop 'em. They, they, they die, they die, they die.
[Murda mo, kill some more. Murda mo, gotta killa some more.]

Scandalous, scandalous, scandalous . . . scandalous niggas won't ease up tonight . . .
All my niggas better get that cash, until we get the cash, we won't ease up tonight even if it means we got to pop 'em. For the profit, we drop 'em. They, they, they die, they die, they die.
[Murda mo, kill some more. Murda mo, gotta killa some more.]

Oh, we don't have no money. We gotta get money for food on the table, for feedin' the youngins. We steadily strugglin' thuggin'--broke and we sellin' more dope--both the dummies and dum-dums. Come on back, purchase some more. Now, whether we mobbin' or stick up a store, fin to get us some dough. My nigga's desparate, we ain't ate shit since yesterday, but we got a gauge and plenty shells. I'm smellin' money--cash money [money, money, money]. First baller we see, we rush and buck him--don't give him a chance to reach all up under his seat. Now, what if he pull out some heat? Shit, then we really got to kill him. Ain't even worth it, my nigga, give up the dough. Don't flex! My nigga don't try to be no hero and be glad we only shot you in your legs--could have been your head. Now what if that there victim was me--gettin' robbed by these niggas that we used to be? I'd be muthafuckin' dead!

Scandalous niggas won't ease up tonight . . .
Niggas on the street don't sleep until we eat. We won't ease up tonight even if it means we got to pop 'em. For the profit, we drop 'em. They, they, they die, they die, they die.
[Murda mo, kill some more. Murda mo, gotta killa some more.]

You know what we doin' up on them police? We never did love them. Muthafucka, we buck 'em. We lucky they die, pullin' that heat and beat 'em. Get your pump and we kill 'em all until we rise. If you're feelin' me, pick up your shit, nigga, 'cause it's realer than realer than realer than realer than realer than most of them niggas. You're rollin' with them niggas, hoes. And I'm knowin' this. Pump up the revolution. Nigga, we go when you come. Join us in a battle and victory. Go down in history. This ain't no mystery. Fuck 'em, let the law end, 'cause we simply get the raw end. Coffins open, dump 'em all in. We can get down on them po-po. When we finished, they ain't trippin' no more. Get ready, leave one of us (?), so my troopers got somethin' to hope for when we rumble, crash, collide. Now we lockin' up with the enemy. What that guy did to me is crude and rude and don't give a fuck about rules. We done been screwed, been runnin' the streets too long, we know every corner, cut, and alley, so when you're patrollin' don't pull over the wrong Caddy. Never knowin' what's on our minds. We're steadily bustin' at these po-po for the hard times.

Money, money, money . . . shit don't be funny when you got no money, money, money . . .
Bein' rich is the shit 'cause you live so lovely, lovely--never have to worry about where you gon' sleep or be hungry, hungry, hungry . . . but that's only if you got money, money, money . . .
Ooh, ooh, ooh. If murder makes me richer, then I'll be a killa.