Hollywood Songtext

-Bizzy Bone-Intro-
Shit nigga look at that nigga over there. Old haten ass, broke ass nigga man. [Man I don't even know what I came to do to these people man] Broke ass nigga. I got no excuses, boutta just come up in this mother****er [Go over there and give that nigga some money]. Not givin me props n shit, this is how I feel about this man. Shit, whoop yall niggas ass dog. This is the rap game dog.

-Bizzy Bone-Hook-
Dirty rotten, never forgot, always plotin' and I ain't scared to say it, "I feel the Lord is watching!"/ Jesus'll walk a mile, give me a hundred thousand and then a hundred loses, but I can't be a coward

-Bizzy Bone-
He's discombobulate, them minds scrambled eggs [Scrambled eggs] and brothas feel me comin,' I started gunnin' big, hit'em up in two thousand and trizzle, heads feelin' the bullets and the death on my back on the fa shizzle!/ Ooh, tell me whats critical, is it your reputation?/ Anyone attack it wait for the incubation, now for your mother ****ing information Bizzy's a thug! I never expected to be accepted, shit, I was just sellin' drugs/And reflect it in my music, the people spoted the real, that had my homeboy's salty, still ain't swallowed the pill/ Popin' the bubbly for this million dollar deal, Bizzy finally got his money, these suckas, they want a trill, keep it real, good, bad and ugly/ Four in the mornin' lookin' under my bed for Ripley's the Rears/ Oh shit, and thinkin' about all that, Ruthless, you keep your job, I'm a Universal Soujah! Thank God! [Thank God!]

-Bizzy Bone-Chorus-
Let me thank the Lord, like I always will!/ Never move to Hollywood, uh, keep it keep it real!.

-Bizzy Bone-
Mind on my money, my money and my mob and my Benz and my friends and my job!/ I still miss Wish's Uncle Charles, reachin' the stars, everybody talkin' Bone breaking up, nigga, Flesh behind bars/ He the one that bought the tickets, can I get any realer? Baby I'm just the realest/ [Noooow] back to the real shit, [Real shit] mental, methodic push the hottest product, Bizzy through Ghetto College, checkin' out up out of garbage/ Man I'm not Eddie Cane, and I'm not David Ruffin [Ruffin], and I'm not Michael Jackson [Jackson], nigga, I'm a say something! I'm not incompitent [Compitent], never a pill fiend, I only smoke some weed, and sip some Hennesey/ Is that too thuggish for you?/ Well if it is, I'm sorry/ Give me no Grey Goose, Gator Skin, White Marley's/ Thinkin' bout all that, Ruthless can keep the job/ Bungalo, bright and swole, [Sweet Jesus] Praise God!

-Chorus-

-Bizzy Bone-
I could never even look at my nigga's girl, never try to stick it to his babie's mama for nothin in the world!/ Why snitch, switch and be a bitch? [Bitch]/ Man you on some bullshit, oh yeah/ I don't want to be friends, who needs enemies?/ So stay the **** away from the Benz when it comes to your facinity/ Besides, with jealousy you might get ****ed up, but, with no KY Jelly, only movin' when God tell me, let me man up and tell my story, [Because] it ain't no tellin' how many records I be sellin/ So who you callin' pretty boy/ Boy you a funny man, a modern day Schwarzenegger, but im not Running Man/ Thats the only metaphor that I'm giving you niggas tonight, that ain't even my steez, nigga please/ Show Rollin Stones just what that thug life like, right [What?] I'd like to thank you for putting me in your article, practically destroyed my life

-Chorus-

Bizzy Bone Hollywood songtext