Thug Luv-Art of War

2Pac:
Nigga, we doin this shit from Cleveland to LA, nigga. Whatever you niggas want, we bringin it! Thug luv, nigga. Bitch! What time is it? Yo, I dont give a fuck where you lay at , nigga, it's time to slay these bitch-made niggas.
[Bizzy: pac pac runnin with us, runnin with uspac pac runnin wit us. pac and rip with thug luv.]
They aint even knowin what type of niggas we is. Where my thugs at?

Bizzy:
Well, it must be close to the Armageddon, Lord. Know that I wont fly by that lesson, you taught me to pull out my Wesson, you brought me, and I'm not stressin it softly. Get em up off me, cuz all we wanted was harmony, been bombin em , yell up outta my ghetto, I wont settle, get on my level. They cant stop me and pop me. Nigga, they got me? F*ck naw. Little Pac gets schizophrenic, let's manage to damage all yall. I'll talk about em and you dont really want it, cause they're so cornered, and I'm want em to not jump. I'd rather say that we cam to shut em all down. So quick to test, bullet, yes, declare war. Roll, I'll flow when I get the gun for the murda mo' horror, for why they did it all, pause for the cause, and I fin to pull a nine or a pistol, a little nigga with mine. Fuck them niggas, it's on. All yall fall. Bizzy gettin bitches to test me, bless the floor, and any attempt to arrest me, stress me. Yet the weapon is kept with the best of my secrets, deep in the (leaves), I'm alone, nigga believe that I can see it, if needed, and if you really with me and well then let it be, get the greens and we runnin up over Cleveland (Cleveland).

2Pac:
Ha, ha! What's poppin, nigga? Put yo muthaf*kin hands on yo strap, nigga. Thug Luv, nigga. Yeah, we can do this like ganstas and slug it out, or we can do this like punks and punk it out. Pull you strap on me, nigga you betta keill me. thug luv, nigga. Thug life baby. Thug Luv.

I'll probably be punished for hard livin blind to fact, Thugs is convicts in God's prison, hands on the strap prayin so father please forgive me. Police be rushin when they see me. I flaunted America's most wanted live on TV. Life: pleasure and pain, stuck in this game holla my name. We all gon' die. We bleed through similiar vains. Yous explain to me, dont panic when my guns burst. Heard the last jam, n*gga this one's worse. My n*gga, Bone held the chrome til I came home. Thug Luv, playas tell thes bitch niggas bring it on. I caught a plane out to Cleveland late last evenin to help my niggas clean up some niggas no longer breathin. Now who do you believe in? Hit the weed and grieve. It's a cold ass world. Niggas kill you in your sleep. Watch me. Until they stop me, bury, murder me or drop me, I got thug luv for my nationwide posse. Feel me?

Layzie:
Little thug form the Land, n*gga never ran. Muthaf*kas out to get me. They dont understand it's the #1 n*gga out wiht a nation of n*ggas down to put in some work and do some dirt, f*ckin around with the band Bone thugs-n-harmony, follow down the road, we stroll to meet karma. Everything I do, it seem to cause drama. Ready for the war like a knight in my armor, bomb ya. So quick to tes us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust. For the love of the lust, niggas bustin on us. Hit em up with buck 12 guage eruptions. It's the Art Of War. Puttin n*ggas on the floor when I'm comin through the door, bringin nothin but terror, causin mush pain to the n*gga that dared us, tried to put a twist in this thugsta era. Paired up with a nigga like Pac, and a nigga like me, gotta stay high. Thug luv til I die, keep my prayer to the sky, but I'm still in the hood, smoke and fry, so I beg the Lord save us all escapers of misery, bless my n*ggas in penetentary, soldier fo the century, yeah

Krayzie:
Here to get it, told my N*ggas they need get the hell down with the dirt, and we dont f*ck around. Buck a couple a rounds, and if your passin throuth, then hit the gourn and dont get caught up in the crossfire, n*gga. Artillery thick and you dont wanna get to f*ckin with this I'm straight devil, not a punk and pretend. I reload , buck a little mo'. Flee the scene fore the po-po even know. "So, who ya lookin for?". They dont know. A muthaf*ka with a leather face. Hey, man, she said I ran this way, siad I ran that a way. Yalll hoes'll never know because I got away, yeah yea. A criminal mind to keep a nigga on the level. Sometime I get high and analyze your crime. Correctly organized and with results, you'll be surprised.

Wish:
Oh, nigga, can you fell the vibe? We can ride. Playa hatin niggas you gotst die, it's only right It's over with, Bone betta leave it alone, Mo Thug come crakc they fuckin domes. Still in the hood, where the thugs play, fuckin withnothin but thugs, man aint taking no shorts, or no losses. We crackin them domes around my way. Give it to em on anothre level, nigga ,get a shovel, you can dig a hole. Bitches is dead. Infrared to head. You can beg, you go fled, but still lookin for you ( for you). Better run for cover, nigga, duck. We about to bust. Strate got the infrared, put it on his forehead. Makes a move, send (flowers) straight to his home. Put a card in the muthaf*ka, send it to his mamma. Tell her he was dead wrong, dead wrong. Gone, now we logn gone , long gone.