[The Game:]
In the criminal mindstate, I'm ridin' with' a California crime rate. ^!$$%'s is dyin', gotta get that money. So I, load the clip in the .45 ever since my brother died, been on a murda mission with' pistols: Hollywood homicide. Critics said Compton died with' Eazy. One hand on the Holy Koran, I'm a ride foe E, betta believe it. In the 6-4 Impala heavily weeded. God as my witness, Compton is alive and breathin'. A ^!$$% with' a attitude and Bone Thugs: we ready to die, ready to ride. I set death in his eyes.(Yeah!) Part the Red Sea with' a heckler(?) and couch(?); walk through the valley of death with' a vest and a glock. And why bury Christopher Wallace? Cali's stressin' for Pac. In my Jam J's I bust a shot for Scott LaRock. My life is real like 50's beef with' Ja. The A-Team got the West on lock, motha$#&@a's.


[Krayzie:]
We the original criminals, therefore there be no replications or second guessin'. A nation, thug invasion got these sucka's shakin'. You been waitin' and anticipatin' the makin' and the arrival of my thug congregation: A.K.A. Desperado's. It ain't hard to spot us either, follow the trails of the hollow shells, as well as the rotten smell of body stales. How many you ^!$$%'s is ready to get down and dirty? Watch me spit rounds like a thirty-thirty; word up. And you can just put on an instrumental and let a ^!$$% run. It'll be like givin' me be a gun, 'cause I'm a kill everybody, 'cause you know ya can't $#&@ with' the tongue. I come with' the extra explicit, illicit, wicked. Call me Mr.; sawed-off'll hit ya. Now take the time out and pick yo' %#@! up. Get up peela's, it's the real ^!$$%. The soldier field ^!$$%. Roll in control ^!$$%'s, and we roll with' cold killa's. So, ya betta back up off us 'fore we blast ya off us. And if you think we jokin' you'll be laughin' in a coffin (coffin, coffin, coffin).


Original ^!$$%'s pump-pump, say whatchuwando? ('wando?)
Original killa's pump-pump, say whatchuwando? ('wando?) [x2]