Bizzy:   Yeah. Supervision.      If you look into my eyes. If you look into my eyes (tell me what you see.) Tell    me what you see, you see ...      If you look into my eyes, tell me what you see, you see ...      Bizzy:   See, they don抰 understand me. I抳e been through him, and him, and him, and then    come at æ…¹m again. I know niggas that抯 in the pen, and figgas for you and them.    Evil creepinon my people. Chances are slim. Be married to the music. Boom! Hit    the stage, ready to die for it, cry for it. Cut the games. Many tried for it,    lied for it, get a catchy chorus and fly for it. Take orbit, let gravity be    your fortress tonight. Elevate your brain, hold your heart and just sing, æ…¶ause    gracefully we age through all the pain. Sentiments in rain. Evidence of it抯    heavenly fangs distained for my explanation on æ…¶ane. The fame was the sum of    our money, chained in a murder, murder shame, with a pistol and a pissed-off    bang! Well, then let me finish with thug love. I抦 off to hit the club with the    bud and the track, hit the mud. Keep the gun, it抯 my first love.      Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.      Supervision:   I抦 making love to my music, my music. My music makes me high.   (Bizzy: Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.)      Supervision:   I抦 making love to my music, like my music抯 my lady. Sippinon Brandi,    intoxicated. Humminto __. And i抦 chillinwith Krayzie, and we high off that    Thai. My reason抯 why, like R. Kelly, I believe I can fly. And plus, around me I    can抰 see, my vision抯 clouded. Premeditate æ…¹m or bust, and please label me æ…'out    it, æ…'out it. As I collect my thoughts, take me a breath. God bless my homie    [insert name], he took one in the chest. And yes, but he still here to rap a    song, just another day. While ya bullshhhhh, crack the top on that Alize! 慍ause    we don抰 play in this land of the loc抯, where brothers, they smoke trees up with    dust, and see, they bleed. Then they plead. 慍uase i抦 on top, straight ballin    Makinlove to my woman, but my music抯 steady callin and never stallin But it    comes to me, you should please let me have prophecy, yes, I make love to my    music. I抦 makinlove ...      Krayzie:   I love music. Any kind of music, as long as it抯 pumpinto keep me thuggin self    in check. Maintain the mentality I got to keep my composure, and music抯 the    perfect potion. When i抦 coastinroll a blunt up, roll æ…¹m up. Put some of them    jams on. And, nigga, we zonein so put on some old school, homie, let抯 hit the    dance floor. Music really makes me happy. When i抦 stressin mental hot, I put    on some instrumentals. Stop, I think about what I done been through. I put it    to paper, then put it to wax, and kick some facts, sit back and relax, now    everything is all right. If it wasn抰 for this music, i抎 be dead, fuck a jail, æ…¶   ause a nigga ain抰 never goinback to that hell. Feel me. Kill me. And if it    wasn抰 for the man upstairs blessing me with talent, like the average thug    nigga, would I vanish? But this platinum got us niggas established. Got us    living lavish. Apply yourself, survival tactics, nigga, and y抋ll can have it.    Even though it抯 stress and strain in the game, one thing I can抰 do is ... Is    stop the music.      Supervision:   I抦 making love to my music, my music. My music makes me high.   (Bizzy: Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.)      Layzie:   Nigga, it don't stop, and it won't stop æ…¶ause i just can't quit. This game be    runninthrough my veins with nothinbut platinum hits. And nigga it don't stop,    æ…¶ause it won't stop, æ…¶ause it just don't quit. This game be runninthrough my    veins with nothinbut platinum shit. Nigga I gotsta have it. It抯 like automatic    rounds when I put this down. Constantly fuckin up instrumentals, you remember    that thuggish ruggish sound. You can feel the love goin through the speakers,    creepin livinlife on the deep end. Better believe you won抰 catch me sleepin    put up a beat and I heat, dismiss the flames. Nigga, cut the games, me and my    music we sleep and eat together. We hop in the Benz, get off in the winds, and    we run the streets together. And we on a mission to stick up the industry full    throttle. Mo Thugs, mo money the motto, so, nigga, the slugs that I bring come    hollow. Nigga we can do this in the song, or nigga we can do this in person.    Whatever you do when you cross the gunline boss, little Lay'll be puttinhis    work in. 慍ause me and my music, nigga, we don't take that shit. Nigga, put the    pen to the pad, get mad and I break that bitch. Nigga, it's just the thug in    me, mixed up with the indo and the OlE. When I drop this thugsta poetry, I    make all y'all know who the fuck I be, niggas!      Supervision:   I抦 making love to my music, my music. My music makes me high.   (Bizzy: Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look into my eyes.)