"THEZE DAYZ"
KRAYZIE BONE featuring K-Mont, Asu, and Bam

Krayzie:
I'm representin' muthafuckin' Thugline nigga, in 1999.  You muthafuckas wanna find the real thugs and hustlas, nigga?  Come to the muthafuckin' ghetto where we from.  Now we're the real thugs!

This how we livin' these days . . .
[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.  And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta, thugsta.]

Krayzie:
Nigga, these days, we kill you much quicker to get us some paper.  You feelin' me?  
These days, you gotta be packin' a gun--everybody your enemy.
These days, it's every nigga for they self , 'cause it ain't no such thing as friends and wealth, so nice niggas get left.
And that's why these days, you gotta be raw out here on the streets.  
Tell 'em, these days, you can't be fuckin' with niggas that's weak.  
And these days, no tellin' when you'll meet your coffin.  I seen it too often, that's why fuck flossin', I take caution.  Don't trip.  Shit.  If you're rich, you're rich, 'cause if you slip, somebody waitin' to get at you--grab your cash and split your shit. These days, stay on the low-low and away from po-po, unless you're ready to pull your fo'-fo' and blow.
How come these days niggas wanna be the Don of the mob?  They claim it, but they never qualify for the job.
These days, we bustin' at muthafuckas quicker, simply 'cause it's 1999, nigga.

This how we livin' these days . . .
[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.  And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta, thugsta.]

K-Mont:
Hey yo, I'm straight out of the bricks, and y'all ain't worthy to serve me.  I'm the type to jump out your bushes and bust you with the thirty-thirty.  You want beef?  I pack pistol-packin' utilities.  I'm the type of nigga that'll send letterbombs to all my enemies.  I can't even walk to the airport for bein' who I was.  The police all on my dick, because they recognize a thug. Nigga, we tryin' to get money, we don't respect the police.  Until us thugs unite, it ain't gon' never be no peace!  Niggas be goin' to school with nothin' but murda on they mind--givin' a fuck about teachers, bustin' shotguns and nines.  Picture the scenes and screams and everybody runnin'.  Get on your knees, and pray nigga, 'cause the Son of the Lord is comin'.

Asu:
You know I came in time--that's my frame of mind.  Now I'm able to separate the deaf from the weak, dumb, and the blind.  Niggas can't get none of mine--not even some of mine.  Just 'cause you got on a watch, nigga, don't mean you know the time.  You stagnatin'.  You fags hatin' my motion.  From ocean to ocean, my magic potion is devotion.  The nerve to hate what I deserve to do wasn't a curse.  It was a signal--that's why that ass crashed, forgot to put on your blinker.  R.W.I.: rollin' while infatuated.  I graduated; now I want my Masters.  Y'all done agitated disaster, and at every end's a start, I slip in the art with my heart and soul.  It's smart to roll, but dumb to come.  Don't become the one I fold like a lawnchair.  You shouldn't have gone there.  What's the deal with the long stares?  What's the purpose, jokers on earth surface to surface, and any problem is handled with same-day service?   Come on, come on, come on.

This how we livin' these days . . .
[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.  And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta, thugsta.]

Bam:
We run the blocks, stop the clocks, told the (?) to not set trip--it's our spot, gave y'all shots, and let the drama pop.  Don't escalate the 4-5-9, it's why we dead or alive.  Point of survival, let's get points with real niggas lives.  But you only see raw meat on streets--these niggas love their heat.  Nowadays all bustas wanna thug like me. You see it be (...?...) so simple, execution style to gristle.  From the chair, heard 'em whistle for my nigga.  Mental is money, murda, ridin', dumpin'.  Head back to all of y'all since every niggas are hard and provin' they got the bigger balls.  Scared of the laws, told what he saw, and what he lookin' like.  Broke him off in the midnight.  I spared his life.  I said this shit is tight.

This how we livin' these days . . .
[And this is for my gangsta, gangsta, gangsta.  And that one's for my thugsta, thugsta, thugsta.]

Back
"Theze Dayz" Lyrics
Copyright © MCMXCIX  
WasteLand Lyrics: The Art of Bone.  
All rights reserved.