Текст (слова) песни: Bone Thugs N Harmony - Land Of Tha Heartless

Krayzie:
Don`t niggas don`t wanna start shit. Buck, buck to the bang.
Sendin` bullets to the brain, nigga. Yeah.
A nigga that always at my city with me, now, who was that nigga
they put in the plastic? Nigga that thought he could bang.
That nigga`s stuck. That nigga`s blasted. They got my man from
the Land. Never ran, I step with deadly men. If ya come a
little bit closer, I can turn you into sand. Now follow me, now
roll, stroll down to Cleveland. We thuggin`, we theivin`, we
put it
in deep, and the blood is seepin`. Got niggas in alleys, fuck
niggas in badges. We say bang. Eighty-eight through the ten-five

(and Clair). St. Clair ain`t shit to fuck with. Pumpin`, Krayzie
be bumpin`, dumpin` the bloody body. Me never knew one that
could flow with the tongue. We comin` to shoot up your posse.
My niggas--they comin` up out the woods, to get the goods.
Krayzie be thug, and (want to) die--that`s from comin` up in
my hood. We killas. Get a gat, pap, pap, clack back me gun,
bust one, they done. Cleveland is where we from. Hearts--thugs have none.

High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really
no place to run.
Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns.

Bizzy:
Soon as I hit the scene, (?), feelin` for a pistol, but I didn`t
have no gun. Come with original thugsta shit. I be flippin` it
with me
tongue. Nigga, Cleveland is the city where we come from, and
I show them hoes up outta the Clair that thugs don`t run from

none. Follow rip one, now, on and on, them definitely got me
back. And I`m throwin` up St. Clair thugsta niggas, with or
without my gat. Forever be ready to pull out me murder tools
East 99 style, fools. Me put it in mind on murderin` you,
followin` whenever me murderous trues. Niggas that claim to bang
bang, when it comes to slang thangs, they do. They know
they cannot buck me, one of `em sure to slug me, but they hope
the thug I be, Bizzy. Better let `em him be or they`ll see.
Nigga, hangin`, swangin`, never to miss. The Biz is me.

High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really
no place to run.
Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns.

Layzie:
Livin` in the Land of the Heartless with a sawed-off pump, shootin`
craps. Hand on my strap, roll thick, `cause they jack.
Runnin` up on the Bone, you needin` to be pap pap. Soldier thugs
be pumpin` them slugs, defendin` they drugs. When they roll
up, niggas be creepin` up slow, heavy packed with they gats,
and try to pull a hold up, but nigga, now hold on. Wanna test
the
Bone? The gauge is shown. Any is mind blown, lookin` down the
barrel of this Mossberg chrome to the dome. Bone, clack
back me gauge in a rage, copper take these here rocks. Double
glock, my pistols be pumpin` and buckin` out shots whenever
the trouble knocks. Steadily hittin`, me clean up, get lit up
for ready your soul to burn, and I blow your shit up, get `em
on the
get up, `cause niggas must learn. Yearnin` to earn cheese. Ready
to die, so niggas can`t take these. Wantin` to clock G`s, want

to move keys, not takin` a loss on my green leaves, please. East
nine nine, crime finds mine, strayin` on this road to hell, and

prison walls, testin` balls, for the cause, gotta get that sale,
and bailin`, kickin` up mud, rollin`, I get with my thugs. Rippin`
apart
shit, so nigga, don`t start shit, `cause we kill in the Land
of the Heartless. Die.

High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really
no place to run.
Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns.

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Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Bone Thugs N Harmony - Land Of Tha Heartless Krayzie: Don`t niggas don`t wanna start shit. Buck, buck to the bang. Sendin` bullets to the brain, nigga. Yeah. A nigga that always at my city with me, now, who was that nigga they put in the plastic? Nigga that thought he could bang. That nigga`s stuck. That nigga`s blasted. They got my man from the Land. Never ran, I step with deadly men. If ya come a little bit closer, I can turn you into sand. Now follow me, now roll, stroll down to Cleveland. We thuggin`, we theivin`, we put it in deep, and the blood is seepin`. Got niggas in alleys, fuck niggas in badges. We say bang. Eighty-eight through the ten-five (and Clair). St. Clair ain`t shit to fuck with. Pumpin`, Krayzie be bumpin`, dumpin` the bloody body. Me never knew one that could flow with the tongue. We comin` to shoot up your posse. My niggas--they comin` up out the woods, to get the goods. Krayzie be thug, and (want to) die--that`s from comin` up in my hood. We killas. Get a gat, pap, pap, clack back me gun, bust one, they done. Cleveland is where we from. Hearts--thugs have none. High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really no place to run. Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns. Bizzy: Soon as I hit the scene, (?), feelin` for a pistol, but I didn`t have no gun. Come with original thugsta shit. I be flippin` it with me tongue. Nigga, Cleveland is the city where we come from, and I show them hoes up outta the Clair that thugs don`t run from none. Follow rip one, now, on and on, them definitely got me back. And I`m throwin` up St. Clair thugsta niggas, with or without my gat. Forever be ready to pull out me murder tools East 99 style, fools. Me put it in mind on murderin` you, followin` whenever me murderous trues. Niggas that claim to bang bang, when it comes to slang thangs, they do. They know they cannot buck me, one of `em sure to slug me, but they hope the thug I be, Bizzy. Better let `em him be or they`ll see. Nigga, hangin`, swangin`, never to miss. The Biz is me. High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really no place to run. Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns. Layzie: Livin` in the Land of the Heartless with a sawed-off pump, shootin` craps. Hand on my strap, roll thick, `cause they jack. Runnin` up on the Bone, you needin` to be pap pap. Soldier thugs be pumpin` them slugs, defendin` they drugs. When they roll up, niggas be creepin` up slow, heavy packed with they gats, and try to pull a hold up, but nigga, now hold on. Wanna test the Bone? The gauge is shown. Any is mind blown, lookin` down the barrel of this Mossberg chrome to the dome. Bone, clack back me gauge in a rage, copper take these here rocks. Double glock, my pistols be pumpin` and buckin` out shots whenever the trouble knocks. Steadily hittin`, me clean up, get lit up for ready your soul to burn, and I blow your shit up, get `em on the get up, `cause niggas must learn. Yearnin` to earn cheese. Ready to die, so niggas can`t take these. Wantin` to clock G`s, want to move keys, not takin` a loss on my green leaves, please. East nine nine, crime finds mine, strayin` on this road to hell, and prison walls, testin` balls, for the cause, gotta get that sale, and bailin`, kickin` up mud, rollin`, I get with my thugs. Rippin` apart shit, so nigga, don`t start shit, `cause we kill in the Land of the Heartless. Die. High techs and khakis when jackin`, sawed-off, there`s really no place to run. Niggas get vicious with my click, `cause even the bitches carry guns. Нравится песня? 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