Title 203
"NO SHORTS, NO LOSSES"
BONE THUGS-N-HARMONY

Bone come break 'em down.
Takin' no shorts or losses, man.

Layzie:
I'm takin' swig of the burb, word, downin' my fifth and I swerve, drunk as I sit on curb. Get up to purchase some herbs to ease up my nerves, while a nigga got rocks to serve. Heard about thugs and hustlas, but I never knew none like us. Before we druggin' 'em off in dumpsters, suck these thuggish-ruggish nuts. Peep this cut, make a nigga wanna do some dirt, puttin' in work, and I hit him where it hurts, puttin' it down on first, and hit him with a Ouija curse, from worse to worst. Duck if you willing to test Bone, the consa-equences are fatal. Ready be strapped, pap, with-a me sawed-off, clack back, 'cause I be livin' me label: Ruthless. And I steady be puttin' it down just for the love of money, yeah, for the love of the wasteland--Clair, for the love that brought me here. Droppin' P's to the double-glock. Ready when the trouble knocks. Pop, pop, your pistol, now. If a nigga wanna run up, gun up, put him on the ground. Make 'em lay down, stay down. Harmony smooth with the thug shit. Mo murda to the fools that clone. Five niggas loc'd out with the roughness, and it's war tryin' to craft these Bones. Bring on your stretchers your dearly departed. You rest in a coffin' for darin' to cross this. Come and get that ass tossed by the boss, bitch. Ain't takin' no shorts or no losses.

Bone come break 'em down.
Takin' no shorts or losses, man.

Krayzie:
Nigga, gon' fuck with me, now? Krayzie that nigga that pump, pump. Nigga, that's my daily thang. Down with the bang, bang. Swangin' on thangs it really don't matter, man. Insane to the brain, my nigga, so how could you ever compete with the trigger? Bitch, if you decide you want some of this, now, bite one bid, and nigga, we're comin' to cut ya. Everyday be same old: St. Clair to flip on the same ho-niggas that be tryin' to steady the thugs, but nigga, back up. It's a Bone thang, what? Never takin' no shorts or no losses, creepin' up outta me click, see. Mo murda, mo murda, and Ouija will be with me. Creepin' on a come up, doin' it for the love of money. Stalkin' (gat fools), walkin' jack moves, ready to pap you if we have to. Remember: me no surrender, kill 'em and lay 'em up deep in a coffin. Me no pretender, Leather Face takin' no shorts or no losses.

Bone come break 'em down.
Takin' no shorts or losses, man.

Wish:
Ain't takin' no shorts or no losses, tossin' niggas all up in them coffins. Let 'em know when they run up, I gun 'em, gotta let 'em know who the boss is, see. Pop, pop, let 'em drop. Mo Thug, them niggas is nothin' but killas. We creepin', we needin' more money. We sick, and we cold, and we hungry. I'm lovin' my thugstas. My click consists of nothin' but hustlas. Then, nigga, you know that I hurt ya, serve and murder all bustas, now. Hard times, gotta grind, get mine, even if it means, pap, that's your life. And a nigga gotta die by the sword, a gauge, my nine, and my knife. Cockin' pump, my slugs all up in ya, now what? Shoot a bitch just like a nigga, ain't no thing for triggers--you'll fall. It's Wish Bone. No shorts, gotta get mine. Yeah, it's my time. Me and my thugs smoke and choke, and let a nigga P.O.D. off that wine.

Bone come break 'em down.
Takin' no shorts or losses, man.

Flesh:
Run 'em up with that dog, jumped out of the darkside. Come creep in a barrel, bitch, if you test my hood, it'd be your loss. Even if you bring your click, get tossed, it'd do you no good. Can't fuck with my gang, no thang, and them bullets they rang out. Strangle the man, and drug 'em up off the Clair, we strip 'em, and beat they brains out. I gotta give P's to all of my trues steadily payin' them dues. We niggas with nothin' to lose, trippin' and sippin' on brews and actin' a fool. Mo Thug be lovin' to smoke mo' bud, fiend for the green leaves. Nigga, quick pull out them trees. I pull out my cheese. Now, gimme, now, what me need. Remember: me killa, cap peela, still a realer nigga, and in on to dig ya, so bitch if you run up, I'm bound to rip ya. Me put 'em in work, pullin' me bullets, it hurt, better run to chalk it, diggin' ya deep in the dirt, squirt blood, see the Bone'll take no shorts or losses.

Bone come break 'em down.
Takin' no shorts or losses, man.

Bizzy:
Boneyard (?) nigga that's startin' some shit up, what? Little Ripsta, get (jumped. Cleveland) thugs, all of my muthafuckas show they nuts and guts, runnin' up out the cut, pumpin' bucks, ready to fuck you up. Must bust them, and steady be dumpin', thuggin' on the Clair, oh yeah, let's smoke out on 88th, jumpin' with playas. When a me forty-fo' let go, feelin' Glock-glock roll, now they (?), gunnin' outta the window, we peep out the few comin' outta the back door. Hang on the darkside, ride, pick up your TEC, and they fly, why? I die by all of my unremorsefullest times on the nine-nine, ride. Me killa, gravedigger nigga, comin' up out my trench. Rest In Peace, and runnin' from the holice, jumpin' that barbed-wire fence, hittin' the pavement dazed, the gauge was blazin'. Gotta watch when the po-po raisin' up upon me. Turn around and faced 'em. Pump, pump and fade 'em, now [fade 'em, now; fade'em, now].