"WHERE MY THUGZ AT"
KRAYZIE BONE

Buck, buck!  Fuck!  Where my thugs at? Where my thugs at!  Where the fuck my thugs at?
Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.  Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.

Foward, march!  Pull out your weapon; aim directly for the heart.  Buck the brain and make sure everything stop, and listen to the shells drop.  As we steady poppin' round after round off, trumpets fade around us.  Bailin' through the muthafuckin' mud and rain: niggas on a mission.  Shirt full of blood stains, but I'm still livin', 'cause I got the will and the skills to make it out the killin' fields alive and killin' still.  This the type of shit I make you want, got our suits on, knowin' and willin' to die with our boots on.  Dressed in fatigues; this is real.  We ain't no actors.  We don't wear this shit for no fashion.  You'll see how real it is when we start blastin'.  Fake niggas always shoot real blanks; we in the steel tanks.  If this was real they'd probably crumble.  How you come to rumble when you scared of what's in the jungle, nigga?  Why you tell them people you was killas?  I put this on my dead thugs--when they jump we gon' tear it up.  Torpedo one, bomb torpedo two to see the destruction.  Military-minded, so we will win.  Strategize, that's all I am fuckin' about is strategies.  It's all about reality, and nigga, that's me.

Buck, buck!  Fuck!  Where my thugs at? Where my thugs at!  Where the fuck my thugs at?
Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.  Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.

Before we fight, I use my mind to pin the [pin the, pin the] situation, makin' sure the enemies weak before we invade 'em.  Then we break 'em [He broke, broke, broke . . .].  Organization is a factor, comin' from "The Warrior" slash "The Mad Rapper."  Makin' pushes, jump out the bushes, troopers attack.  And the heads of these adversaries--bring 'em back to me.  If you scared, you the first nigga dead, and the field is gettin' deeper.  Drama gettin' thicker, so I pull my pistol quicker.  Kill 'em all if they're not on your team, but watch out for the spies tryin' to infiltrate the scene.  Know what I mean?  We headed for the justice center--free all the convicts, and let the killas ride with us.  Yeah, let's fuck some shit up and let's get rid of the law, of course--voluntarily or by force.  This shit just goes on and on.  It don't stop until they body rott, and they casket drop.  In the W-A-R, we are the mighty, the mighty, the mighty-mighty warriors ready.  If they spittin', we gon' send 'em bitches slugs back.  It's like that!  Buck, buck, buck, buck!

Buck, buck!  Fuck!  Where my thugs at? Where my thugs at!  Where the fuck my thugs at?
Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.  Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.

Thugs, everywhere you go you see 'em.  Niggas wanna be 'em.  Meet the real thuggish ruggish niggas out of Cleveland, the wasteland warriors, wild.  Execution style--find your body smellin' foul.  I stay thugged out and enhance my thug mentality--gotta keep my mental sharper than a pencil.  Got bullets in the clip though, and you endangered if you anger me, nigga, you'll meet the one that's in the chamber.  Paranoia, don't get too close--I'll blow your fuckin' head right off your shoulders, 'cause everything to me is war.  I'm livin' in horror.  I'll die before I'm captured [Fuck that!], fuckin' with these muthafuckas down to the last clip.  Remember the casualties.  Dearly departed, keep poppin' at these coppers, and we'll drop 'em in your honor--you can rest in peace, your killa's deceased.  Where my thugs at?  Buck, buck, get 'em up so I can see 'em.

Buck, buck!  Fuck!  Where my thugs at? Where my thugs at!  Where the fuck my thugs at?
Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.  Are you ready for war?  Gotta be ready for war.

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