Bizzy Bone
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Confessions

Bizzy Bone


-Bizzy Bone-Intro-
{Church bells chiming. A car pulling up playing a Bizzy Bone song "you've got too, you've got to..." getting out of car and door closing with Bizzy walking up to a church} I have a confession to make

-Bizzy Bone-
Stripped 'em naked Momma Rose, they made me take off my clothes and show my bruises, open the door, I'm so embarrased oh/ One hundred and fifty five pounds all around, they can't hold me down/ I'm sellin' my sound to the ground, now tell 'em around, I'm about to break down/ It'll take armies, Harmony arm me and alarm me, saw me and I'm fallen, callin' all God's children naughty/ Put it on my Lordy/ And lil' Lay name called me/ God's still sorry but it was strictly for Little Shorty, and beat up yo' Beamer and yo' motherfuckin' broad/ Don't call me bitch/ Ghetto Ross and I don't hold scold to them whores if he calls/ And I'm closin' the doors in a metamorphis' war for the Moor/ Sprawled over the floor/ Lord, you know we stressin' with the essence/ Excellence destinded, armageddon/ I'm a headin' and bobbin' right outta town, town town

-2pac-Chorus-
Stressed I'm busta free/ Enemies give me reason, to be the last motherfucker breathin'/ Bust, my automatic rounds (The day I got outta jail it was a motherfuckin' problem) Catch 'em while they sleepin' now I'm the last motherfucker breathin'

-2pac-
Woke up with fifty enemies plottin' my death/ All fifty seein' visions of me shot in the chest/ Couldn't rest, naw nigga I was stressed/ Had me creepin 'round corners, homie sleepin' in my vest/ Shit, I'm like a hostage on this troubled block, call the cops, a thug nigga screamin' "Westside" bustin' double glocks/ Hittin' corners in my Chevy Surburban/ Liquor got me drivin' up on the curb, hand on the steerin' wheel swervin' (Watch out!) Bless me Father I'm a sinner, I'm livin' in hell/ Just let me live on the streets, cause ain't no peace for me in jail/ Gettin' worldwide exposure with a bunch of niggas that don't give a fuck, ridin' as my soldiers/ I'm just a missle on a war path, not your average dealer, Westside Outlaw, Bad Boy killer, huh/ Complete my mission my competition no longer beefin'/ I murdered all them bustas now I'm the last motherfucker breathin'

-Chorus

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