Bone Thugs N Harmony East 1999 Lyrics

East 1999 Lyrics

Layzie:
East Nineteen ninety-nine, my niggas . . .
Think about back in the
days when the year was eighty-nine. Little nigga on the grind, gotta get mine,
doin' my crime with (two
in here), steady stackin' my ends, put my serve
down on the Clair, Nine-nine. Hittin' up the Graveyard Shift with Will, Lil
Will,
Big Wally, and Wish Bone. Little Wally highrollers, and he wonder why
niggas so strong. Krayzie Bone, stack right, take
much love, kept a nigga on
his toes in the game. It's an everyday thang, when you let your nuts hang, gotta
make a grand at
least daily, man. Them Cleveland hustlas, never no bustas.
Thug to the Heartbeat of niggas from the Land, fool, and the old
school.
Just serve out your sentence and be cool. Fuckin' with trues, Rest In Peace,
lil' nigga Ripsta, stressed that Bone love.
Smokin' on bud, 'cause a nigga
Mo Thug callin' all my niggas when it's time to nut 'em. In the nine nine,
niggas gonna drop to
the #1 with the gun, so run run. Cleveland is the city
where a nigga come from, slangin' them dum-dums.

Krayzie:
Niggas it's
goin' down, up in the C-Town, get 'em up with the thugs [thugs], and that nigga
with the bud [bud]. Get the fifth of
Rose, but the liquor store closed, and
I'm all out the forty. Blaze up, nigga. Burn up the buddah, smoke it all up.
Nigga, don't
stiff on the reefer. Bone runnin' up outta the cut with this
fresh sack of hydro, and this shit is creeper. Peep the street, bust
again
on Double Glock-glock with a me rocks. Cops sweatin' me by. Copper better drop
when the gunshot pop blood,
dumpin' the body, and the bullshit stop.
Whenever the trouble knocks with the po-po, niggas roll solo, split up, and
swerve,
Krayzie take caution. Take all my llello and tossed it. See none
when they roll to the curb. Runnin', duckin', jumpin' up in the
Land. My
niggas, it's Krayzie. We slang and we buck and we bang on the Glock, and my
nigga, that's daily. Who the nigga
with the twelve gauge? [Pump.] Mr.
Sawed-off Leather Face, so ya better pray. Eternally thugsta. East
Nineteen
Ninety-nine, we roll for the devil.

Bizzy:
Gotta give P's
to them SCTs and (I roll thick), thug on the Glock. Pump, blast for the cash,
then I'll mash the gas, gotta dash
away from them cops. Got Lil' Mo! Hart
steadily flippin' off Rose. Rippin' up flesh with six blows. Rest, that
thugsta, yes, I
pump slugs, and I be druggin' 'em off in dumpsters. Fuck
them po-po. Bloody they bodies they burn, burn. And I guess that
hood'll
never learn. Gotta dip (both in ones and) sherm. When I 'm on a mission for my
city, bigger niggas be bailin' out with
me. Roll up the window, me wind
blow, fuck with my indo (and that in a me). Even though the barrels of me
twelve gauge are
empty, me scandalous niggas up outta the woods, buckin', no
fuckin' with the family. Now feel a nigga, understand me. Much
love, much
(buck) for them St. Clair thugs. East Ninety-nine is where you find us,
slangin' me muthafuckin' drugs.

Flesh:
Done, done, leavin' the niggas
stunned, cockin' pop with a me gun. The lead'll be letting they head off, and I
gots to have (?).
Leavin' 'em hung, breakin' fakin' your studio-gangsta
bitch, trick. Niggas that get picked. I'm hittin' the shit, and I split in
the
midst of the darkness. Consider me heartless. Oh, yes, Flesh, me runnin'
a ho check. Better check your Rolex, your time now
for givin' up respect to
them SCTs from C-L-E. We're scandalous nigga that dwell, hail off on the far
side, and bail, leavin' the
trail of the bloody victims. The fifth dog
maulin' 'em all, and never them catch me slippin'. And sippin' a fifth of the
wine, and
niggas be dyin', and steadily trippin'. We flippin' the scripts on
over, see the Bone'll be never saw, but niggas told ya, triggers
showed ya.
East nine-nine, five soldiers.

Wish:
Murder one, redrum, try to run
and get away, but it's just to late. Watch out buckshots, when I come, buck,
buck, better
guard that fuckin' face. Dumpin' them slugs on ya, fool.
Rollin' with me trues, drinkin' brews. Don't start no shit. We
come
equipped, so niggas, stay cool. One-eighty-seven, you think that you're
goin' to heaven, put slugs all up in that chest, and hell is
where you'll be
dwellin'. Pop in them clips, and them bodies me dumpin', watchin' ya fall to
the pave with me nine-milli
pumpin'. Puttin' them bodies all off in them
graves.

Cleveland is the city where we come from, so run, run,
run.
East [ninety-nine] Nineteen Ninety, -ninety-nine, -nine, -nine, -nine.