A Thugga' Level Lyrics - Thug On Da Line - Krayzie Bone

* send corrections to the typist 

[Verse 1: Boss] 

Big ballin bitch like Boss come thru like it ain't no thang 

Paper chase, hustlin nothin changed 

Ask me again I'll tell you the same 

Don't hustle the fame nigga, most of the game 

Put it down in the street for mine 

24/7, stayin on the grind 

For days and days I shell at the cops 

Enough grenades to get at the block 

I'm a drug smuggler 

Part bitch, part thug, part hustla 

You lift my crib and I'm touchin ya 

No love for ya, draw blood from ya 

Cause a nigga like you dreamin to Boss 

And you fiendin to floss, and who pounds is flown 

We're bustin motherfuckas with the black game 

Holdin them fiends and lovin my crack, in the front got bud in the back 

Who can get more thugga than that? 

From hookers and jacks, put the house up, bitch 

I'm bustin the gat 

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[Krayzie] 

Y'all niggaz always testing, gonna make me pull this weson 

[Boss] 

If money ain't the answer rephrase the question, dawg 

[Krayzie] 

Big Boss and Krayzie Bone is... 

[Verse 2: Boss] 

Runnin up in your town with an uncountable amount of numbers of mongols 

Y'all mad we the real number owners 

Rollin like big, Thugline nothin but runners 

Trouble Boss, a double cross 

A nigga named Krray they good as dead 

From the b-o-double, doin double time 

And these tricks comin up to bread 

Photos 

[Chorus: repeat 2x] 

We on some thugga shit 

We on some other shit that you ain't fuckin with 

The thuggin don't stop 

And you can't touch the clique 

You know you love this shit 

Take it to what we spit 

The thuggin don't stop 

[Verse 3: Krayzie] 

I heard a silent motherfucka creepin up from behind ya 

Bet ya didn't think that I'd find ya, huh? 

With a nine or pump (pump, pump, pump) your shit'll be fucked 

And I ain't even popped the goddamn trunk (trunk) 

I bet they never saw a nigga bring the heat and be so cool 

Freeze everything, nigga don't move 

You can choose to be a fool and try to get away 

But never make it out the room when the pump go BOOM! 

Fuckin 'em up, scream "fuck the world" while I cuff my nuts 

Real niggaz don't lie, hit 'em in the mind, everytime goddamn we live 

Send 'em to the graveyard, who gonna save y'all? 

Matter of fact motherfucka who paid y'all 

You runnnin up on them niggaz you know gonna bust back? 

Take no more shorts fuck that (fuck that) 

Pistol control, we roll streets of the all know 

If they run up I'll pop get your hand out my pocket 

For the glock, glock shot 'em all on the floor 

You dealin with some motherfuckin real niggaz 

Thrill niggaz, we'll kill niggaz if they wanna kill me 

Still runnin with the AK-47 ain't shit changed 

Still got the same artilary 

Bust at them bastards (bastard) 

Me and Boss steady breakin it off in they asses (in they ass) 

Wanna see me get glasses (glass) 

Cause I be all in your face but you walk right past me (past me) 

But that let a niggaz know they don't really wanna swang them thangs 

Fuckin wit them thugs, the thugs... nigga the thugs, what? 

[Chorus: repeat 2x] 

[Verse 4: Boss] 

Bare witness to Mrs. Gangsta 

We're gun-toaters, blunt smokers, big bank folders, and high rollers 

Quick to burn off into toaster for fun, this bitch 

Judges wanna post as gorilla 

Pimps, killers, and soldiers roll 

You don't slip and we thought that we told ya 

Know what Thug Luv nigga to bone ya 

They can run your shit and bend a corner, scatter and spread 

Like mustard jam them buzzards up and leave 'em smothered 

Quick friends gats find ya like bookie and they down with me like fo' flat 

Y'all niggaz got nuts, our niggaz got nuts 

So we can go nut for nut see who first to crack and split 

Like ya down like wipers 

'Fore the motherfuckin piper pay the bitch 

[Verse 5: Krayzie] 

You motherfuckas feelin to feel it 

Thugline put it down keepin it the real it 

And I ain't really trippin of these niggaz 

They say they gonna get me yet they miss me 

(What?) Cause I've been here niggaz thuggin 

Waitin for you motherfuckas to come bring it to me 

Fuck waitin I'ma mingle with it 

The nine millimeter and plenty more haters 

If any more niggaz roll up put the cut I'm fuckin 'em up 

When I hit 'em with the pump don't duck you gonna die 

Fuck you, die, buck you, die 

Reload, unload one more time 

Hit him with the pump make sure he dead 

He bled blood, we bail 

Ask me if a nigga prepared for war hell yeah 

[Chorus 'til fade]