Bizzy:
There is no way in hell [marching factions...] that the blind can lead the
blind [...regime takin' over my body...], unless somebody play the dog [...intertwined
into
my soul.].

Split personality, -ality, -ality.
Split personality, -ality, -ality. I'm in reality.
[Foward march.]
Waitin' for warfare. Waitin' for warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare.
My army, marchin' factions, regime takin' over my body it seems. Regime, regime.
[Forward march.]
Bizzy:
Hear the eruption when I'm pumpin and bustin', gotta give a concussion. Lovin'
the lust and plus to touch me, rush me, too much, you must be out of your mind.
Trust me, I'm the nigga dumpin', tell 'em lovely. All the way from the Clair
to the PO and down '71 we on to the C.O. and fuckin' with the B-O-N-E hit the
floor
and go, and again we hit the door.
Capo:
Ammo explode, rappin' in platinum, Capo ballin' out of control. Provoked emotions,
devotion, capture bankroll, behold the unknow treasure. Cherish your soul precious
as solid gold roses thrown over decomposed bodies froze, expose who chose to
impose sleep. Deceased, buried six feet deep beneath hollow stone, tragedy
prolong memories, harmony, sing another sad song. Unsolved mysteries involve
society. Only strong minds survive holocaust victims soft in our life die off.
The (?) caught slippin', steppin' in deep shit, (...?...) Ignorance lost. (...?...)
The pussy wish he had some balls to brawl with us heartless. In it 'til ya
havin' a tendency to empy cartriges off on enemy targets [bitch]. Regardless
of felony charges still spittin' ammunition, so mission accomplished.
Bizzy:
We're movin' in heaven's movie, my lil' nigga, watch out!
Waitin' for warfare. Waitin' for warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare.
My army, marchin' factions, regime takin' over my body it seems. Regime, regime.
Bizzy:
Well I'm a soldier, fuck the TV. See me when theybring back 3D. Even on Eazy
bookin' on me, lookin' at Ruthless now, she so sleazy. Gimme some cheese! And
I
see that you're scheming on the comedians now, but leave me, bitch. You better
believe can't nobody save you when I move my music underground. And don't deceive
me, please, get up off your knees, I'm all about business, ask Animal. I ain't
your victim and a witness to the sickness written. Did I piss you off?

On a mission
in the midst of the demons bankin' off my voice and makin' my choices. She don't
even know me and I'm kickin' and screamin' tryin' to get out my dreams, at least
to keep me breathin'. Even poisoned the noise, got me coverin' my ears, and save
my tears for years, just for the joy. But I'm tellin' you boy, not here, I gotta
get my paper. Will the rapist pull my plug and fuck the thug? Hell yeah, nigga,
no love.
I thought you knew and nigga don't shove cause I'm like, nigga what? I'll
fuck
you up you know the rules.
Regime takin' over my body it seems.
Waitin' for warfare.
I can smell your wicked rigormortis a mile from the morgue. The scorn in
your soul may tell you to humiliate your enemies. Have you not read the Art of
War?
Absent-minded to the enduring. Pouring your cup of damnation in the midst of
my
world. You gotta be out of your monkey-ass mind. No more will the look of Medusa
seduce the predecessors and entrepreneurs.
Capo:
Retaliation, I can taste temptation. Itchin', instigatin' allegations. Undertakin'
sacred assassinations. Dead presidents, weapons, and nations. Independence foresaken.
Revelations in the making. Bitch-made niggas breakin'. Separate by segregation.
Hatred they motivation. No relation in this congregation. Load weapons [B, pass
me a clip!] trigger detonations. Bullet penetrate, men break, strain. Pain and
frustration. Abstain.
Chain-reaction tribulations. Safe to say you can't escape disaster when messin'
with a master. Unmask the Ripsta's little riddler, nigga (?) killas.
Bizzy:
Gotta get you more money, come on my little brother.
And I brung him. Thug on. I got him fuckin' with the revolution all on the
retribution and execution.
Shootin', let 'em, do 'em. Get gone, done made a bomb bond. None of y'all
pinned
my strategize. I heard Bizzy's fried, I heard Bizzy died, but the word from Bryon:
Surprise, I'm still alive with a militant mind. Gotta hit it, will die in a minute,
did he feel it? Well then get it. Rewind, you just trippin' on a nigga tryin'
to shine, but I'm'a get mine and I ain't lyin'. Nigga everytime I sign the dotted
line it's for the riot. Nigga what you want to do and I ain't dyin' without you
in the silence will kill ya, it's the quiet ones who might peel ya. On the realer,
on my lonely and I see that you're phoney, nobdy. Phone me an surely I'm out
the
door and don't you come for me.
It's still fuck _____ for sure, let it go. I know and boy I will enjoy a little
toe to toe, but no, you'd probably involve the po po and tell them that you went
to
jail with Bizzy Bone. It's on in the C.O.