Bizzy Bone Better Run Better Hide Lyrics

Better Run Better Hide Lyrics

-Bizzy Bone-Intro-



Yea, Bizzy The Kid, the midwest cowboy, galloping to a hood near you. Imagine
me bein signed to B2K (What?!) What you (Cenz.) think you can pay me in
Monopoly money? Man I will smack one of you (Cenz.) in the head with a baseball
bat, I don't (Cenz.) around.







-Bizzy Bone-Chorus-



You run, and you hide (Tell them (Cenz.) you better run, c'mon now)/ And you
run, and you and hide (Tell them (Cenz.) you better run, c'mon now).....







-Bizzy Bone-



Son of a (Cenz.) they never threw a grenade, I'd never sell out to B2K/ Gotta
love the way the industry be holdin me back/ I'm the rebellious leader of the
only brigade, ain't a (Cenz.) that could bite my style, because it always
change/ You hold me down, I'm still gon' reign, got popped in the back of the
dome, went home came back put in a bullet and blow out they (Cenz.) brains/
Murder my little brother, and how much do you think I'm payin to chop up his
body to dead remains/ Got kidnapped too, threw the tape like Kane/ Jump out of
the window, you know I'm gettin away/ They murder my general now its time to
take this (Cenz.) to another level/ The Babylonians against the Rebels, it'd be
seven of us comin with the Bone Thugs up against the wall/ Come out the corners
doin the devils, put the peddle to the metal wit me and my Seven animals/ Ride
around the corner, reload and holdin the handle got a three-fifty-seven that
everybody call Cannibal, russian roulette, who's next?/ Ready to gamble, I'm a
ramblin man/ Keep guns on the mantle and a candle for my little brother
Capo-Confuscious, you know what it is, it's how we do it/ Throw a brick in the
building, scatter and (Cenz.) it's ruthless/ I never tolerated a Judist, the
passion of christ, give me the money you'll never (Cenz.) me twice (Boy)/ Shut
for the apostles given the gospel with the wing, spread em open, takin flight/
(Cenz.) Shut it, Bizzy the kid trained for combat, bring it on napalm, bomb
back, runnin with machine guns/ And I run around dumb, look similar, sinister,
Ripsta with the napalm







-Chorus-







-Bizzy Bone-



I couldn't (Cenz.) in the kitchen, watch the Fed's kickin/ I carry (Cenz.) away
and then they start snitchen/ (Cenz.) got me mystified, I'm (Cenz.) money on
here to say 'Get the sticken for the (Cenz.)'/ My (Cenz.) in the pen, turned
rats into women, and give em pony tails, make em wear ribbons/ Through the
visitin room he's kissin his kids and bout to do my (Cenz.) dishes/ In the crib
c'mon, you wanna feel it? I'm the realest, high off Spindidy before I get
sentenced/ But hey, what about the apprentice? I'll never tell/ I already told
you what the 7th'll do to the snitches/ Split personality, sorta like Fight
Club, never get rest I got to smoke (Cenz.)/ The blood on my little brother,
what you really wanna do? I don't think you really want none/ Roll down the
window like 'What up cuz?' (Cenz.) the cops, (Cenz.) the fuzz/ Look in my eyes,
you could see the buzz, see the thug/ Hardships (Cenz.) that I just had to break
with the tongue, and I'm horse like hung, ask my baby mom/ You rap like dung,
can anybody tell me where you got this (Cenz.) from? Cause I'm the (Cenz.) with
the gun, and the dum dums/ And I smack em up (Cenz.) suckin bum bums/ Chris
Stokes, better get em for I get one and put your money where your mouth is, or
be ready for war/ Get kicked with the hot ones/ And it's one last thing for I
knock you out, it ain't nothin like money in a Ziplock bag and you could get
smacked up







-Bizzy Bone-Outro-



Hey everybody, B2K is (Cenz.). Better watch your mouth boy.