Bone Thugs-N-Harmony

Bone Thugs-N-Harmony - Mind Of A Souljah (Layzie Bone) lyrics

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Layzie:

It's all about Mo Trues Humbly United Gathering Souls. Babi Boi,

my Angel, Daddy'll meet you at the Crossroads [Crossroads].

Bizzy:

Babi Boi . . .

Layzie:

Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.

[Everybody] Everybody by now should know my label, my thugsta,

these things guidin' your struggles. All it is, is about this

hustle, whatever it takes to piece this puzzle, why declare war

on these fakers and haters eliminate us, traitors (...?...)

These are the days of our lives [lives]. Do or die, (that died

to Boo--he go bye) whom die they lie in the face of our society.

Try at of every attempt to quiet me, I got a nation that's down

to ride with me. Here's the deal, can I get a witness? It's

deeper than survival. Who am I? My brother's keeper? Yeah, I be

clutchin' on my Bible, willing to die. The wicked is near me,

dearly departed, but nobody hears me. Is we all gon' fall in

misery? It's so serious, it bring tears to me. Ears to the

street, like a drum to the beat, creepin' up my block. I'm

already knowin' a nigga wanna do me, so I stay strapped. (Don't

pose for the cop), crooked cops, they gonna harass me, ask me

the same ol' bullshit questions, knowin' I'm a thug with bud for

days, keepin' a pistol in my possession, but a thuggish ruggish

soldier like myself gon' move on, and prevail, avoid jail,

collect my mill with my Bones, splittin' domes.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on,

come on, don't make me hurt ya. Come on, come on, come on, come

on, come on, come on, come on, come on, all about that bloody

murder. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on,

come on, come on, make a move and I'll have to hurt ya. Come on,

come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on,

all about that bloody murder.

Bizzy:

Baby Boi . . .

Layzie:

Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.

Still to this day, it's a struggle, addicted to trouble, we

never goin' change. Mom made us thugs, see. Soldiers, I think we

must be to O.G. (?) loves thee. Mama plead my family tree never

helped a mother come up, seen it was hard tryin' to bring her

sons up--they dwelled on the worse and ate nothin' for done up,

comin' up, made it, eternal. If I struggle, thank God. I'm a

count my blessin', trouble but never no stressin', just called

it a lesson, 'cause life will be runnin' that test and better

off in a cell. See a nigga walkin' the streets, and they label

us foolish children, 'cause I always knew this, while the rest

of my days I be livin' in Ruthless. Fuck what you're thinkin',

law, my Judge is up Heaven. Look at my stomach and see the "7,"

even scales is how I'm bailin', rebellin', tellin' y'all nothin'

but a soldier tells, critic can kiss my ass. I might go to

thinkin' about my past, get mad, I reach in my stash and blast.

Fuck all y'all that treated a nigga like we wasn't shit, and

soon as we hit, now what do we get? These fake-ass niggas tryin'

to get in our click, all on our dick, but you can miss me, actin'

phony in my presence, love it or leave it. You can't believe it.

It ain't that season. Get to steppin', hater.

Only Mo Thug allowed, say it loud, Mo Thug and I'm proud. Mo

Thug and I'm proud.

Loud! Proud! Loud! Proud!

Bizzy:

Baby Boi . . .

Layzie:

Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.

Better watch for the nightfall when them come, better watch out

for the night stormers. No light's in sight when them run, but

then once we warn ya, caught ya slippin' up out of your game,

playa. Wasteland soldier, see what we facin', chasin' po-po on

the hood like Jason, casin' your set, fin to blow your station

instantly. Fin to be World War 3 if ya fuck with my family, try

to test the men, and we single-handedly take over your mind and

the rest of the planet. See, I'll be damned if we surrender,

agenda's still no pretender, put it all down, make 'em all

remember: deep in Hell is where I'll send ya. Welcome to the

Land of more indo. We smoke. We choke. You know we blaze. Break

out any cup with the pipe, what's up? Parlay, come around my

way. Lay keep it real. Keep it real. Peace be still, time after

time, can't forget that money, man, that money, man. Mo' money

be on mind, bottom line.

Bizzy:

Baby Boi . . .

Layzie:

Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me.

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