Lyrics:
I got a heart on, a heart on my sleeve
I got a bone or, a bone or two to pick with you
I got a woody station wagon
I got a heart on my sleeve
For you
me
Give a lil dose of this
Don't try
You can't get close to this
Don't Bark like
You gotta bone to pick
I'll be having them
Having your-
What?
Cat
[Sirens blaring.]
Layzie:
Fuck the police. Fuck the police. Fuck 'em(X2)
Krayzie:
Surprise.
You're muthafuckin' right.
Krayzie:
Yo, fuck
You can go and pick a spot
Either way I'm on the go
-Hook-
She got that toxic p***y
More of a bite type p***y
I might just eat this P***y
Bone appetite
down to the street top
Black police showin' out for the white cop
But Krayzie Bone will swarm
On any muthafucka in a blue uniform
Just 'cause I'm
it to the river)
Going dow-ow-ow-own
I'm going down, baby
(We going down to the river)
[Verse 2: T-Bone]
I'm gonna lay down...
All of my glocks
This back-breakin', bone-shakin', belly-achin', hard-workin'
Two more hours to go
Yes, it's keeping me alive doin' nine to five
And I ain't got
the gin, I loose in sneaking
I've been waiting gotta give my damn
Pop the world war 2 like Warren pick
Took lil beat and that's all I'm taking
Gotta
pick ? its kill or be killed on you bastards
[Chorus 2X]
Seventeen in the mist - double you - distribute bitches is scarred to shoot
Muthafucka done
paper
Y'all need to fuck wit' me, bitch
Who want the dice, pray the outcomes nice
Like 7 or 11 Ima winner pick up the chips
Better yet bitch pick up
[Bizzy Bone] (whispering)
Shut up nigga...Shut the fuck up nigga
Here they come...Here they come
Here they come nigga...Duck down nigga duck down
that I would prevail and pick up the pieces I broke
If you know then you know
I really came up from nothing the fuck would I throw you a bone
Yeah
Who
o
Pick up ooooo
‘Verse 2’
I dey run my race, everyday at my pace
Go down on my kneels and I pray for grace
Too much yawa sef fit to make man craze
day
At Pam's when we met yet again
And as I entered the building I laid a warm, wet hand upon her Bare pelvic bone, she emitting
An exciting ooh
Two
This back-breakin', bone-shakin', belly-achin', hard-workin'
Two more hours to go
Yes, it's keeping me alive doin' nine to five
And I ain't got
then pick a bone
Aye
Yeah
Pop out the cut and we aim at yo' homie
She wanna get it up, pack of baloney
I get the shotie, the bag, it be on me
Stacking up
dead smoke
You play for keeps, get hit with fire
All blue dickie fit
Yeah this that murder man attire
Pick up the phone like who you with
I swear to god
get him when the time calls, dog. Take two-eleven, bailin', thuggin', knowin' these niggas well, then
Bone's fuckin' with the hoes, here comes them
Before she is misbehaves and she Choke me
Black raves out of blue feed me into a slaughter machine
Bit by bit her sweet speeches like honey
Enough to draw
going to stick with me
You've got to learn what the blues really are
You learn to pick with me and you can stick with me
But it's time to blow this
Sometimes it rains down like a
Crash symbol under Kevin’s stick
Or a nasty strung under James Bone’s pick
A pretty note under Jacob Scesne’s lip
Or a blues
hadn't been invented yet, back then they only had "quill"-icillin
Hey, it's not that hard, bard
I'm sorry, I got a bone to pick with you, William
So if
and shaven while you're there listening to blues
Written by the folks who you never
Ever, ever, ever, ever, ever
Gave a dime
Two weeks ago in the national
prefix disappeared into the blue
Including one that was in between 2 the post office
And Verizon didn't even need to move
Sposed to be melting shoes
But
.jpg/300px-Roomful_of_Blues_(8103186703).jpg "Roomful of Blues")
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