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7 Sign
(Indisponível)

Bizzy:



Yeah, this for all you non-believers, especially out in the C-O. Man,

fuck y'all niggas.

Yeah, I'm (tatted) so when I die, you can see what's deep in myeye [my

eye].



Maje:



7 Sign . . .



Bizzy:



I put who got you, too, who shot you, who got you, glock you andstop

you [stop you, stop you].

Look who got you, too, who shot you, who got you, pop you andstop

you [stop you, stop you].

Nigga, this Mo Thug and we can get fucked-up even if I'm under

surveillance, I watch out, wanna win, and fuck 'em up daily,throwin' up

7, what am I yellin'? Murderer. Nigga, once you come must belike

crazy if you [Muthafucka, don't play me] play me. Nigga, nottoday. I

see you but you can't see me. I know with all of government and,yes,

this will get crazy and blow [bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb].



Maje:



Got your mind blown, vocal tones keep it sewn, blastin' out yoursteroes

or your headphones. The roots exploited clones; therefore, it'smy job to

describe the loudness, the habitat of rap survival kit. Artisticskin

abrasion, so when 'em fadin' my worldly reflections, it'smagnified to

new levels of elevation.



Bizzy:



Seven sign, seven, seven sign, seven, seventh sign seal.

Yeah, now y'all know, yeah.

Yeah, I'm (tatted) so when I die, you can see what's deep in myeye [my

eyes, my eyes].

Now, look who got you, then, who shot you, who pop you, glockyou

and stop you [stop you, stop you].

Look who got you, too, who shot you, who pop you, glock you andstop

you [stop you, stop you].



Bizzy:



The Rip here to run in the street, and flippin' on police, yeahthey know

me, I'm not lonely, only, show me when the smoke clears, and atleast I

had my homie and a nigga, K, homie. All bitches, look into it asyou

want the real killa? Well, pull out your pistol, bitch, andshoot it, shoot

it. And you knew it, too, when, when you looked in my eyes, I'mready to

die. And I hope my mama really loves me, 'cause daddy's bye-bye. Inner

pride with the Ripsta, let 'em hit ya with the scripture, pictureme loc'd

out and smoked out with a half of fifth of (?).



Maje:



Three sixty-five out of all the round trees, they'll be Japanese,Maje's

corruptin' record companies. Nigga, jump for cheese, catchsub-zero

freeze and crack once the atmosphere brings the temperature back,slacks

only in dress pants, have you ever danced with the devil inpale

moonlight? I have. Hollywood niggas make me laugh. Sell adream to

'em. Cash, no royality, grab they royal keys and dash. Myoverhead

projects how ends meet to foul or ejected, lyrics was selectedbeyond my

control, last door on the totem pole, pockets swoll from taperesidue, last

interview and went in daytime, it's made a promise to let downsmooth

criminals gently and (?) grab your earlobe and billion, this isbig

business, buy tapes, don't lend, niggas (?) while I scrap changefor

phillies, why grill me? Got bigger balls to chase waterfallswith Chili,

explore on four wheels or foot, I bring it to that ass over thehook so

when you slip, gots it. I ride up on it. I had to maintain mymental

frame, and now I'm Boneless, word sound 'til I'm foamin'. Cybergenics

wanted my genes for clonin'. Disownin' heads like Romans fightrebel

Trojans. More than civil suits make my longevity boost, articlesand

promotions make me more potent. Deadly to the mind, 'causin'

somethin' to be blind, redefine lines entertwined with allmankind.

Would that rain outshine divine Maje, shame, the boogie downBronx

is where the heart still remain.



Bizzy:



I'm a let a nigga know, you know what I'm sayin', just right offthe bat. I

gives a fuck about no nigga. Don't be no (corvie)-ass nigga. I'm tryin' to

tell niggas that off the rip, off the rippa, baby.

[I must be losin' my mind . . .] I must be.



Where's the mob? Find your specialty, let's give this nigga ajob. Is you

ready for jail? Yes and no, but somebody's gonna try to rob. Wecan

spar, but you gon' drop [drop], I'm a bomb, ready for war, will Ip-pop

pop, better look out for miles, been doomed since the womb. Willhe put

me in my tomb? I've been thuggin' so assume when I enter yourroom,

boom. Stomped through Compton and cities y'all ain't neverheard of,

and listen, I bet there's thousand people screamin' out "murder,murderin'

ya." Hypnotized, took off my shirt, I got a (?). I'm tatted sowhen I die

you can see what's deep my eyes. Trues ride but trues die, mynigga,

don't cry, I shedded my last tear when I found out love was alie. So I try,

but it ain't nothin' for my mental. So piss off my pencil, and Iblast, dash

in a rental. One nigga got (?) and off he in a trap withsawed-off they

took a chance and lost, let's spray A-K and make gangsta gone,don't

finish the wars when they ain't over, I love you thugs, but allthem

skeletons got so close and they got so (?) if it ain't (?), thisfamily that

don't give a fuck who you are. It ain't nothin' like sometrouble. How

close? How far [how far, how far]?










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