Krayzie/Flesh:

Better not be so quick test us,
[May they lay, they lay, may they lay, may they lay, may they lay.]
'cause we'll come to kill ya, now.  We'll kill ya, now.

Krayzie:

Aw, triple-platinum, nigga, digga, still thuggin' with the roughest
muthafuckas in my city, and a nigga wonder, "How they still chillin' like
that?  Ain't you scared of a nigga that's tryin' to jack ya paper, snatch
ya?"  No.  I really wish a nigga would turn and wanna take what's mine,
'cause I got an AK-47 shootin' trey-O times.  You didn't think I'm willing
to find a way to say "Oh, my!" but check it out, though.  I done made
enough money to buy my people a lot of weapons, y'all.  And I made it,
takin' out my weed.  Here, stay high, nigga, for paranoia is factor when a
nigga wanna act up.  Nigga figure I'm quiet, then he 1ook at my
sawed-offs, and they figure they can try me, like a muthafucka won't
swang back or somethin', or even pull a nine out my jacket, and start
dumpin'.  Fuck 'em.  I think a nigga see us on the video and playa hate
and say that we ain't true to what we say, but, then again, when you see us
on the street and playa hate, we bang them fuckin' brains [we bang them
brains].  But then, we switch subject, and fuck with them clones that suck
the thug dick.  Run around foul, tellin' people we stole your style.
Muthafucka, we ain't never been in your town.  It's all original when it's
comin' from the Cleveland criminals, so here we go.  Got a gun--should I
buck 'em on down?  Or should I kill 'em when I put the instrumental on?
Why they wanna sound like Krayzie, Layzie, Bizzy, Wish and Flesh?  I'm
so full anguish.  Gotta style so cold everybody and their mama wanna
claim it, but they can't get the hang of it.  Yeah.

Krayzie/Flesh:

Better not be so quick test us,
[May they lay, they lay, may they lay, may they lay, may they lay.]
'cause we'll come to kill ya, now.  We'll kill ya, now.

Flesh:

Beat 'er up and you'll sleep when I step so stone-cold, I chalk 'em, coffin
off and they frontin' that time that they shot a nigga straight to the temple
done a little bit simpler to me and all bodies start steadily fillin', get real
high, steady droppin' the time on 'em, time from time and again, here to
pick all that know with the Bone it's a party everyday, so say, "Mo," and
it's still this strong to brain.  I hop on the phone with the homies to see
what's happenin' in the hood.  It's all good.  Niggas, they thug us,
smuggle, roll so deep in they own cut, but they gon' sacks sellin' for 1ife,
if you pull a (?) off to the fiends, then gank 'em and leave 'em hangin' for
the sake of come up, yeah, takin' ends, and we'll split ya, lost it in the
stick up, yeah.  We better shank 'em, thank 'em, fuck it, I thank 'em, and
hope for respect, 'cause shit, he got sacrificed, my snatchin' a life in the
midst of the dark and I sped off with the quickness, strikin', send a knife
to the back of a playa hater, hate a thug, and they thought that I bruise
easily.  Come, they go through this little, (spin 'em).  Most of what goes
around, comes around.  Ooh, bla-bla-bloody mess even though hoes
really wanna test us.  To the chest, Flesh buck buckin' this guess with a
gun, a change and a whole new muthafuckin' attitude.

Krayzie/Flesh:

Better not be so quick test us,
[May they lay, they lay, may they lay, may they lay, may they lay.]
'cause we'll come to kill ya, now.  We'll kill ya, now.

Layzie:

Nigga, let me in.  Double glock and never about to change, man.  To the
temple I aim and claim the game, control.  Fin to rid your soul, creep and
roll, put some pressure on these hoes that, yo, they pose as foes, gotta let
'em know.  Got a nation of my niggas out to back me, got another
nation--killas out to try t