Stranded on Death Row

Bushwick BillBushwick Bill 

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Bushwick Bill

Richard Shaw (born December 8, 1966), better known by the stage names Bushwick Bill and Dr. Wolfgang Von Bushwickin the Barbarian Mother Funky Stay High Dollar Billstir, is a Jamaican-born American rapper. He is a member of the hip hop group Geto Boys. more »

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"Yes, it is I," says me
And all who agree are more than three 'cause they're we
Yes, yo, I'm in the house now for sure
Because I wanna talk about the hearts of men
Who knows what evil lurks within them?
But let's take a travel down the blindside
And see what we find on this path called

Stranded on Death Row, so duck when I swing my shit
I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits
The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal
Niggas know the flow that I kick there's no equal
I'm murderin' niggas, yo, and maybe because of the tone I kicks
When I grips the mic and kick shit niggas can't f*ck with
So remember I go hardcore, and slam
'Nough respect like a sensei, whoop ass like Van Damme
So any nigga that claim they bossin'
Why don't you bring your ass on over to Crenshaw and Slauson?
Take a walk through the hood, where we up to no good
Slangin' them things like a real O-G should
I'm stackin' and mackin' and packin' a ten so
When you're slippin', I slip the clip in
But ain't no set trippin'
'Cause it's Death Row, rollin' like the mafia
Think about whoopin' some ass, well what the f*ck stoppin' ya?
Ain't nathin' but a busta
I'm stranded on Death Row for pumpin' slugs in motherfuckers
Now you know you're outdone
Feel the shotgun, Kurupt, inmate, cell block one

No prevention from this lynchin' of sorts
You're a victim from my drive-by of thoughts
No extensions, all attempts are to fail
Blinded by the light, it's time you learn braille
From a lunatic, I'm death like arsenic
When I kick up wicked raps
Dr. Dre will kick the scratch
With treachery, my literary form will blast
And totally surpass the norm
Not a storm, plural, make it, many storms
When I'm vexed, I fight leg, necks and arms
In this dimension, I'm the presenter
And the inventor, and the tormentor
Deranged, like the Hillside Strangler
MC-mangler, tough like Wrangler
I write a rhyme, hard as concrete
Step to the heat and get burned like mesquite
So what you wanna do?
The narrator RBX, cell block two

Rage, lyrical murderer
Stranded on Death Row
And now I'm servin' a lifetime sentence
There'll be no repentance
Since it's the life that I choose to lead, I plead guilty
On all counts, let the ball bounce where it may
It's just another clip into my AK
Buck 'em down with my underground tactics
Facts and stacks of clips on my mattress
Bed frame there's another dead, bang
Layin' lame put to shame, who's to blame?
Me, The Lady of Rage
A woman comin' from the D-E-A-T-H and R-O-W, takin' no shit
So flip and you're bound to get dropped
It's 187 on motherfuckers, don't stop
Handcuffed as I bust, there'll be no debate
It's Rage, from cell block H

Ayo, steppin' through the fog and creepin' through the smog
It's the number one nigga from the hood, Doggy Dogg
Makin' videos, now I stay in Hollywood
Bustin' raps for my snaps, now they call me Eastwood
Dre is the doctor and my homie, lil' nigga
Warren G is my hand and my hand's on the trigger
Shootin' at the hoes with the game that I got
Sent to Death Row 'cause I wanted to make a grip from servin' my rocks
And I'm still servin' for mine
Peace to my motherfuckin' homies doin' time
In the pen and the county jail
Mobbin' with your blues on, mad as hell
And you're sayin', "F*ck the police"
And all the homies on the streets is all about peace
And it's drivin' the cops crazy
But ain't nothin' but a black thing, baby
Uh, I'm not flaggin' but I'm just saggin'
I bet you don't wanna see the D-O-Double-G
And you can't see the D-R to the E
Or my motherfuckin' homie D.O.C.
You know you can't f*ck with my motherfucking DJ
That's my homie and we call him Warren G
Yeah, and you don't stop
Doggy Dogg break 'em down with the motherfuckin' Dogg Pound
That's the only way we'll beat 'em, man
We gotta smoke 'em, then choke 'em like the motherfuckin' Peterman
It's like three and to the two, and two and to the one
Cell block four, peace, Doggy Dogg's done

Yo, now you know the path I'm on
You think you're strong?
See if you could travel on
'Cause only the weak will try to speak
Those who are quiet will always cause riots
There's three types of people in the world
Those who don't know what happened
Those who wonder what happened
And people like us from the streets that make things happen

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