Thugz Cry Lyrics - Bone Thugs N Harmony

. . . when the thugs cry 

This is what it sounds like . . . 

. . . when the thugs cry . 

Nigga, we represent the planet. Get schizophrenic and panic. Maybe 

the past would understand if they get off they ass and mash. 

How do you manage? Paranoid, don't even trust my boys. Watch 

for them plots and deploys, envoys, scopin 

like a dope fiend, when I'm smoked in the alleys with these ghetto 

guns and erased my funds Watts niggas in Cali take 

bullets to the brains, still rowdy. Jesus really never died--you 

crucified mutual suicide. Who am I? Loco with vocals, goin' 

coast to coast. Heaven'll move me, right, for sure. Deception whether 

my brethren, but sunny days when I parlay. Get killed 

when I get to steppin'. Remember the weapon (come) and the doctor said 

I need time to myself where ocean those frivilous 

thoughts, thug for the Bone, up puttin' this independent stardom. Seven 

relentless evil intentions, nobody knows 'em, Im even a henchman, warrior 

poet, never to mention i love my lady rebel? 

And we can get the stroke on. And we can get 

the stroke on. And we can get the stroke on. And we can get this 

stroke on, when the thugs cry. 

This is what it sounds like (this is what it sounds like,) 

. . when the thugs cry 

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We keepin' the lights on at Ruthless and I ain't fuckin' the boss 

lookin' at me sexy. Take your clothes off, and my dick'll go 

soft. Never mix business with your sickness. Enemy see me flippin' 

in the picnic with your little divide and conquer, but my 

sister was ready to bomb her. Get off the diznick and up off my 

voice. Me and my boys, give us a choice. How could you 

ever tell Sony that I was the only one was makin' noise? Ain't it a 

breech of trust? Look in the gutter. Ha! Never judge your 

book by the cover. Word to the muthafucka! Huh, I didn't studder. 

But what if I lost and I came in the office, and nobody 

noticed with explosives on top of Versace clothes. Give up the 

ghost. Krayzie's Picasso. Little Layzie's like Caesar. 

Stack's like little Pesci in Casino, and Wish don't give a fuck, ho. I'm 

Gambino. And the walking dead woke up on the wrong 

side of the bed. Bible of survival, triple six rivals --none of you said, but I roll with killas, niggas 

that'll bust a nigga. We don't feel strapped in the bed, kickin' up the 

camp on the realest, the realest, the realest. 

This is what it sounds like 

(this is what it sounds like). 

. . . when the thugs cry 

Photos 

Oh no! 

Here to make your body shake, when it's too late, soon as you flipped 

off the safety. Baby, this be all day, don't tell me you 

crazy. Would they tell me? Hell, naw. But the reason there's 

weepin', we off with a demon, so cheap. And at least she 

peekin', so peep deep down in your pockets. Don't sleep, rulin' with 

my crucifix, Lucifer usually uses it to rule all these 

wicked tricks in the school of these ghetto games. And the fool, this 

bitch is missin'. Shame, shame, shame. Enemies attackin' 

me. Actually I'm in the grave, ask Mr. Majesty. These 

casualties--well, they passin' me by, but I hear death callin', when 

it's so cold in a room, who's stallin'? Better come after me, and we say 

"Fuck ya'll." Haul into battle .