letra de tha points - bone thugs n harmony
[sirens blaring.]
layzie:
f-ck the police. f-ck the police. f-ck ’em(x2)
krayzie:
surprise.
you’re m-th-f-ckin’ right.
krayzie:
yo, f-ck the police, comin’ straight from the underground.
a young n-gg- got it bad ’cause i’m brown and not the other color.
some police think they have the authority to kill a minority,
but m-th-f-cka mad, ’cause i ain’t the one for a punk m-th-f-cka
with a badge and a gun to be beatin’ on and thrown in jail. but we
can go toe to toe in the middle of the cell. f-ckin’ with a
n-gg-, ’cause a n-gg- turned major, and got a little bit of money
and they play us, search a n-gg- car, lookin’ for a product,
thinkin’ every thug n-gg- sellin’ narcotics. they’d rather see
me in the pen, than me blowin’ indo rollin’ in my benz-o. i send the
police to the grave, and when i’m finished, n-gg-, bring the
yellow tape to tape off the scene of the slaughter, still gettin’ swoll
off bread and water. i don’t know if they f-gs or what–search a n-gg-
down and grab on his nuts. and on the other hand, without
a gun they can’t get none, but don’t let it be a black and a white one,
’cause they’ll slam ya down to the street top. black police
showin’ out for the white cop, but krayzie bone will swarm on
any m-th-f-cka in a blue uniform. just ’cause i’m from the
c-l-e, the punk m-th-f-ckas are afraid of me, huh. a young n-gg-
on the warpath, and when i’m finished, it’s gonna be a
bloodbath of cops dying around my way.
yo, b-tch, i got somethin’ to say:
[sirens blaring.]
layzie:
f-ck the police. f-ck the police. f-ck ’em . . .
krayzie:
surprise.
you’re m-th-f-ckin’ right.
krayzie and layzie:
f-ck the police and bone said it with authority, ’cause the n-gg-s
on the street is a majority, a gang, and it’s whenever i’m
steppin’ that a m-th-f-ckin’ weapon is kept in the stash spot for
the so-called law, wishin’ bone was some n-gg-s that they
never saw. lights start flashin’ behind me, but they scared of a
n-gg-, so they mase me to blind me, but that sh-t don’t work.
i just laugh, and plus, it gives ’em a hint not to step in my path.
the police, i’m sayin’, “f-ck you, punk.” readin’ my rights and
sh-t. it’s all junk. pullin’ out a silly club, so you stand with a fake–ss
badge and a gun in your hand, but take off the gun, so we can see
what’s up, and i’ll go at it, punk, and i’m a f-ck you up.
made ya think i’m a kick your -ss, and drop the gat, and
bone’s gon’ blast. i’m sneaky as f-ck when it comes to crime,
and i’m a smoke ’em now and not next time. smoke any
m-th-f-cka that sweats me and any -sshole that threatens me.
i’m a sniper with a h-ll of a scope, takin’ out a cop or two.
they can’t f-ck with me. the m-th-f-ckin’ killa that’s mad
with potential to get bad as f-ck. now i’m a turn it around–dig in
the clip, yo, and this is the sound: [two gunshots.] yeah, somethin’
like that, but it all depends on the size of the strap.
takin’ out a police will make my day, and the n-gg-s like bone,
don’t give a f-ck to say . . .
[sirens blaring.]
layzie:
f-ck the police. f-ck the police. f-ck ’em . . .
krayzie:
surprise.
you’re m-th-f-ckin’ right.
layzie:
i’m tired of these m-th-f-ckin’ jackins. sweatin’ my thug, while we
be thuggin’ in the shack and shinin’ the lights in my face and for
what?
maybe it’s because i’m kickin’ so much b-tt. i kick -ss, n-gg-.
maybe, ’cause i blast on a stupid–ss n-gg- when i’m playin’
with the trigger of an uzi or an ak, ’cause the police always got
somethin’ stupid to say. they pull out my picture with silence,
’cause my ident-ty along with my groups causes violence.
it’s bone with the criminal behavior. yeah, i’m thugsta,
n-gg-, but still i got flavor. without a gun and a badge, what do
you got? a n-gg- in a uniform waitin’ to get shot by me or one
of my n-gg-s, and with a gat it don’t matter if you’re smaller or
bigger.
krayzie:
size don’t mean sh-t. i’m from the old school, fool.
layzie:
and as you all know, layzie bone came to rule. whenever i’m rollin’,
keep on lookin’ in your mirror, and ears on cue, yo, so i can hear a
dumb m-th-f-cka with a gun. and when i’m rollin’ off the eight, you’ll
be the one that i take out, and then i get away, and while i’m drivin’
off laughin’, this is what i say, believe that . . .
[sirens blaring.]
layzie:
f-ck the police. f-ck the police. f-ck ’em . . .
krayzie:
surprise.
you’re m-th-f-ckin’ right.
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