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Correct Better Run, Better Hide Lyrics
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Bizzy Bone
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Correct Better Run, Better Hide
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[Intro] (Yeah!) Yeah, Bizzy the Kid, the midwest cowboy Galloping to a hood near you Imagine me being signed to B2K (What!) What you fuckin' think you could pay me in monopoly money Man I will smack one of you bitches in the head With a baseball bat, but I ain't fuckin' around [Chorus] You run, and you hide.. Better hide, better hide And you run, and you and hide.. Better hide, hide.. You run, and you hide.. Better hide, better hide And you run, and you and hide.. Better hide, hide.. [Verse 1] Son of a bitch, mothafucka, they never threw a grenade I'd never sell out to B2K Gotta love the way the industry be holdin' me back I'm the rebellious leader of the army brigade Ain't a nigga that could bite my style, because it always change You hold me down, I'm still gon' reign Got popped in the back of the dome Went home, came back, put a bullet in one of his fuckin' brains Murdered my little brother and how much do you think I payed To chop up his body to dead remains, God kidnapped you Threw the tape like Kane, jump outta the window You know I'm gettin' away They murdered my general Now it's time to take this shit to another level The Babylonian's against the Rebel's It was seven of us comin' with the Bone Thugs, up against the raws Come out corners doin' the devils, put the pedal to the metal With me and my seven animals Right around the corner, reload, and holdin' the handle Got a .357 that everybody call Cannibal, Russian Roulette Who's next, ready to gamble, I'm a ramblin' man I keep guns on a mantle and a candle for my little brother Capo Confuscious, you know what it is, it's how we do it Throw a brick in the building, scandal mothafucka it's Ruthless I never tolerated a Judist, The Passion of Christ Give me the money, you'll never fuck me twice Boy shut for the apostles, givin' the Gospel was the wings Spread 'em open, takin' flight, nigga shot at Bizzy the Kid's ready for combat, bring it on Napalm, brung back, runnin' with machine guns And an all around drum, look similar, sinister Ripsta with the napalm [Chorus] You run, and you hide.. Better hide, better hide And you run, and you and hide.. Better hide, hide.. You run, and you hide.. Better hide, better hide And you run, and you and hide.. Better hide, hide.. [Verse 2] I couldn't fuck in the kitchen, watch the FED's kickin' I carry niggaz away and then they start snitchin' Bitchefied, they got me mystefied, I'm fuckin' money on Here to say they get to stickin' for the bitches My niggaz in the pen turned rats into women And gave 'em pony tails, make 'em wear ribbons Through the visiting room, he's kissing his kids And 'bout to do my mothafuckin' dishes In the crib come on, you wanna feel it, I'm the realest High off spinach, before, I'm getttin' sentenced But, hey, what about the apprentice, I'll never tell I already told you what the 7th do to the snitches Split personality, sorta like Fight Club, never get rest I got to smoke weed, the blood on my little brother, blood What you really wanna do, I don't think you really want none Roll down the window like what up cuz, fuck the cops Fuck the fuzz, look in my eyes you could see the buzz See the thug, hardships, mothafucka, that I just had to break With the tongue and I'm horse like hung, ask my baby mom You rap like dung Can anybody tell me where you got this shit from Cause I'm the mothafucka with the gun and the dum dums And I smack 'em up, nigga suckin' pump pump Chris Stokes, better get 'em 'fore I get one And put your money where your mouth is, I'll be ready for war Get kicked with the hot ones, and it's one last thing 'Fore I knock you out It ain't nothin' like money in a ZipLock bag And you could get smacked up, (plus!) hey everybody B2K sucks, y'all better watch your mouth...Boy
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