[Bizzy Bone-Chorus]   Murdah is out of control   Murdah just let it blow (It blow)   Word up if you bucked a mothafucka down for taken ya dough   (Taken ya dough...) nigga      [Bizzy Bone]   Know this liquor prolly killin my liver   The villian is still in effect   And I buck this motherfucker down, live and direct   Hey, what I'ma chastise my   momma? Demand the respect,   get up and strategize bitches cryin like they never wept   Slept in the gutter with no tech, I'm still in the dungeon   Bitch I   never left, pass that sticky icky ganja   Creep on ah come up, I crept and I came   Respect the dead game, remember ta let ya nuts hang, often, matter of   fact I'ma do mine all day   I don't sniff coke, I like to make money   Put the fiends in the room, who's hungry?   Cut from the cloth they cut me black cherry   weed   Cherokee Indians based in Cleveland,   thuggin and thievin till I'm the last one breathin   Only one believin is that Seventh Sign Saga   Fresh and   remodeled, plush like Ramada now, holy like Ramadan, a momma's smile   Capo, my nigga what   Nigga execution always my guns is crippin cuz, P.B.D. posse   I   roll with Rasu, Nina Ross, and Skails, Rhythm and Ghetto,   Rosiah, 7th Sign murda em all, yep...      And like little Capo-Confuscious say "Nigga I'll kill for you."      [Chorus]      -Prince Rasu-   Be careful as fuck, baby, take precaution fo' sho'   They say that nigga Gotti quiet , better fire off a Calico   Bastard, I'm a animal   My guradians was   avenues   My Lord be my shepherd, but my swarms for collatoral   Who can I trust? Where can I turn?   When will it all end? I'm suited up in Timberland boots,   Regime marchin' God damnit I'm a grown man,   its time to take my own stand   Fuck the federations, my heart is racin' like grown mens   Pumpin the anger   built up from years of stress,   killers and haters surround me daily, no fears of death   I hear the breaths of angels and demons fightin' over my soul/   Lord, just give me the path through this bloodbath and it's on, Lord   Roll all haters, out my zone when it's goin' down   Ride with the 7th Sign   Violate,   we gone clown   Four pounds be safe in the streets of the showdown   Love to Gambino, you the chief, dog/This is my town, your town      [Chorus]      [Josiah Rasu]   Cock back and blast, knockin sparks up out they ass   Makin marks come off that cast,   nigga you know what it is, think I'm serious   Then heart attack,   missles aimed straight at where the fuck your heart is at   Fix cement or get hit, how hard is that, to comprehend,   I'm tryin to be gone before them   souljahs come marchin in   You blue suit wearin faggets with badges'll get the flux,   I don't give a fuck who you are we can send this motherfucker up/   Crucifixion come quickly come and get me Mister Reeper   I ain't scared to die   I'm all like more than willin, the more the real the more that feel it, so   I'ma stay real until my heart stop   My reflection with hoes, the essence of the hard-knock life   I am the light, and if you miss us then u misses haven't   heard of murder   Then you don't know of pain,   my veins bleed the same blood of the motherfuckers   who murdered my momma so I'm a natural born killa   Than   I, there was no cap peelas      [Chorus]      [H.I.T.L.A.H. Capo-Confuscious]   Me and my Comptons' monster mashin' mobsters   Analyzin' we done plottin'   Plans in progress; Rap game held hostage   Ransom, trillion dollars   Low   tolerence   Suspect; Armed and dangerous, violent tendency's   The industry stick up, Kingpin Capo Regime   Bend on your knees, duck tape and tied down,   follow my lead or everyone shot, bleed   Squeeze round after round, empty shells hit ots the ground   Told you we ain't fuckin' around   Strictly about our   business on some gangsta shit, no bank account   Money talks, greedy hogs walk the plank   Negotiatin' our way, uh, forget the deal   Your record labels'   sorry but your phony ass superstars carbon copied,   indistiguished, no identity   Raise up off these N-U-T's, cock suckin' nigga, please   We ain't dealin'   with no Jerry Hellers, hell no   Call us the money makers, pullin' capers   Baby momma need that paper   Get up off your ass, can't be no couch potato   Only   gets greater later   Better believe in playa haters, see      [Chorus]