Bone Thugs N Harmony
7 Sign (Bizzy Bone) lyrics
Bizzy:
Yeah, this for all you non-believers, especially out in the C-O. Man, fuck y'all niggas.
Yeah, I'm (tatted) so when I die, you can see what's deep in my eye [my eye].
Maje$ty:
7 Sign . . .
Bizzy:
Voodoo got you, too, who shot you, who pop you, glock you and stop you [stop you, stop you].
Voodoo got you, too, who shot you, who glock you, pop you and stop you [stop you, stop you].
Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up even if I'm under
surveillance, I watch out, wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily, throwin' up
7, what am I yellin'? Murderer. Nigga, once you come must be like crazy
if you [Muthafucka, don't play me] play me. Nigga, not today. I see you
but you can't see me. I know with all of government and, yes, this will
get crazy and blow [bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb].
Maje$ty:
Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn, blastin' out your stereos
or your headphones. The roots exploited clones; therefore, it's my job
to describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit. Artistic skin
abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections, it's magnified to
new levels of elevation.
Bizzy:
Seven sign, seven, seven sign, seven, seventh sign, C-O.
Yeah, now y'all know, yeah.
Yeah, I'm tatted so when I die, you can see what's deep in my eye [my eyes, my eyes].
Now, voodoo got you, then, who shot you, who pop you, glock you and stop you [stop you, stop you].
Look who got you, too, who shot you, who pop you, glock you and stop you [stop you, stop you].
Bizzy:
The Rip here to run in the street, and flippin' on police, yeah they
know me, I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears, and at
least I had my homie and a nigga, K, homie. All bitches, look into it as
you want the real killa? Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, and shoot
it, shoot it. And you knew it, too, when, when you looked in my eyes,
I'm ready to die. And I hope my mama really loves me, 'cause daddy's
bye-bye. Inner pride with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture,
picture me loc'd out and smoked out with a half of fifth of (?).
Maje$ty:
Three sixty-five out of all the round trees, they'll be Japanese,
Maje$ty's corruptin' record companies. Nigga, jump for cheese, catch
sub-zero freeze and crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature
back, slacks only in dress pants, have you ever danced with the devil in
pale moonlight? I have. Hollywood niggas make me laugh. Sell a dream to
'em. Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash. My overhead
projects how ends meet to get fouled or ejected, lyrics was selected
beyond my control, last door on the totem pole, pockets swoll from tape
residue, last interview at Wendy's, Dave Thomas made a promise to let
down smooth criminals gently if I'm fittin' to grab your earlobe and
billion, this is big business, buy tapes, don't lend, niggas lent (?)
while I scrap change for phillies, why grill me? Got bigger balls to
chase waterfalls with Chili, explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it
to that ass over the hook so when you slip, gossip. I ride up on it. I
had to maintain my mental frame, and
Now I'm Boneless, word sound 'til I'm foamin'. Cybergenics wanted my
genes for clonin'. Disownin' heads like Romans fight rubber Trojans.
More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articles and promotions
make me more potent. Deadly to the mind, 'causin' somethin' to be blind,
redefine lines entertwined with all mankind. Would that rain outshine
divine Maje$ty shame, the boogie down Bronx is where the heart still
remain.
Bizzy:
I'm a let a nigga know, you know what I'm sayin', just right off the
bat. I gives a fuck about no nigga. Don't be no (corvie)-ass nigga. I'm
tryin' to tell niggas that off the rip, off the rippa, baby.
[I must be losin' my mind . . .] I must be.
Where's the mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga a job. Is
you ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob. We can
spar, but you gon' drop [drop], I'm a bomb, ready for war, will I p-pop
pop, better look out for miles, been doomed since the womb. Will he put
me in my tomb? I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter your room,
boom. Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't never heard of, and
listen, I bet there's thousand people screamin' out "murder, murderin'
ya." Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a (?). I'm tatted so when I
die you can see what's deep my eyes. Trues ride but trues die, my nigga,
don't cry, I shedded my last tear when I found out love was a lie. So I
try, but it ain't nothin' for my mental. So piss off my pencil, and I
blast, dash in a rental. One nigga got (?) and off he in a trap with
sawed-off they took a chance and lost, let's spray AK and make gangsta
gone, don't finish the wars when they ain't over, I love you thugs, but
all them skelet
Ons got so close and they got so (?) if it ain't (?), this family that
don't give a fuck who you are. It ain't nothin' like some trouble. How
close? How far [how far, how far]?
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