Stress Builds - Bizzy Bone

If all the drama thats goin on if all the drama drama

If all the drama thats goin on pop pop pop

where the stress builds in your mouth.

In the mist in the darkest nights

Sparkin off the highest flights

And project buildings blastin civilians

But skull-white from cycles of the psycho children

Millions in the revenue, what we seek in these avenues

Steady breakin down crumbs for the Royal Crown

Amongst animals, to the half of you

Understand the mindstate of the most official

I ride with this demonstration, you will die for your fuckin issues

It’s drama kickin off, infrared lasers is blazin hot

Burnin up your whole block, lord forgive them they noooo not

Fuck a cop with the blood clot, buck 'em until they holla

We gon let it rain like we were launched

with Tommy-gon-monsta rockets

These (?) niggaz die by crashes of crimson tide

Slippin time in yo life, lines is fallen… I’m energized

it’s live baby, and notch yo strip with fo-fives

crazy drama get solved with fatal bye-bye's babay

Drama’s runnin up on ya

when I coming round the corner with a pocketful of marijuana

gawd, full of forty, got me searchin for the telly

takin to my celly, put out the order

tell 'em bust it in ya mother fuckin belly

Ain’t you ready?

If the world should end again, I don’t really wanna

but I’m gonna be ready for the end

and back ta drama, and if you really wanna

you can date it right back to the beginning

Now who’s the fillin villain of karma

orginal militant, marchin in armours

Gat-town, Gat-town, Gat-town…

And comin out the kitchen, .30 ammunition

runnin, buckin, jumpin outta the window

my gun bustin bustin and bleedin some ass

bleedin from glass

tellin myself 'jump up and let off another blast'

through the alleys in a beat-up Malley

To the riots in Pelican Bay

Where the fellas say buck-buck-buck everyday

Floss mode, for my people

got me rappin crap where I shouldn’t be layed back, fucked up on hennesey

bitch you know me dem diggin, daggin everythang

now how the fuck am I gonna get rich?

cuz lick, jack that bitch, kill this bitch

hide this bitch, hoppin in the vans with bizzy

promise you won’t say shit

sing, for the (?)

yes, I believe in god

run up in his corridoor

homeboy you gotta die

meet your maker, never no faker

i grind for mine, big boy I shine for mine

that nigga performed, pressed yo girl!

see?

rap her soul