Lyric East 1999
Layzie:
East Nineteen ninety-nine, my niggas . . .
Think about back in the days when the year was eighty-nine. Little nigga on the grind, gotta get mine, doin my crime with (two
in here), steady stackin my ends, put my serve down on the Clair, Nine-nine. Hittin up the Graveyard Shift with Will, Lil Will,
Big Wally, and Wish Bone. Little Wally highrollers, and he wonder why niggas so strong. Krayzie Bone, stack right, take
much love, kept a nigga on his toes in the game. It s an everyday thang, when you let your nuts hang, gotta make a grand at
least daily, man. Them Cleveland hustlas, never no bustas. Thug to the Heartbeat of niggas from the Land, fool, and the old
school. Just serve out your sentence and be cool. Fuckin with trues, Rest In Peace, lil nigga Ripsta, stressed that Bone love.
Smokin on bud, cause a nigga Mo Thug callin all my niggas when it s time to nut em. In the nine nine, niggas gonna drop to
the #1 with the gun, so run run. Cleveland is the city where a nigga come from, slangin them dum-dums.
Krayzie:
Niggas it s goin down, up in the C-Town, get em up with the thugs [thugs], and that nigga with the bud [bud]. Get the fifth of
Rose, but the liquor store closed, and I m all out the forty. Blaze up, nigga. Burn up the buddah, smoke it all up. Nigga, don t
stiff on the reefer. Bone runnin up outta the cut with this fresh sack of hydro, and this shit is creeper. Peep the street, bust
again on Double Glock-glock with a me rocks. Cops sweatin me by. Copper better drop when the gunshot pop blood,
dumpin the body, and the bullshit stop. Whenever the trouble knocks with the po-po, niggas roll solo, split up, and swerve,
Krayzie take caution. Take all my llello and tossed it. See none when they roll to the curb. Runnin , duckin , jumpin up in the
Land. My niggas, it s Krayzie. We slang and we buck and we bang on the Glock, and my nigga, that s daily. Who the nigga
with the twelve gauge? [Pump.] Mr. Sawed-off Leather Face, so ya better pray. Eternally thugsta. East Nineteen
Ninety-nine, we roll for the devil.
Bizzy:
Gotta give P s to them SCTs and (I roll thick), thug on the Glock. Pump, blast for the cash, then I ll mash the gas, gotta dash
away from them cops. Got Lil Mo! Hart steadily flippin off Rose. Rippin up flesh with six blows. Rest, that thugsta, yes, I
pump slugs, and I be druggin em off in dumpsters. Fuck them po-po. Bloody they bodies they burn, burn. And I guess that
hood ll never learn. Gotta dip (both in ones and) sherm. When I m on a mission for my city, bigger niggas be bailin out with
me. Roll up the window, me wind blow, fuck with my indo (and that in a me). Even though the barrels of me twelve gauge are
empty, me scandalous niggas up outta the woods, buckin , no fuckin with the family. Now feel a nigga, understand me. Much
love, much (buck) for them St. Clair thugs. East Ninety-nine is where you find us, slangin me muthafuckin drugs.
Flesh:
Done, done, leavin the niggas stunned, cockin pop with a me gun. The lead ll be letting they head off, and I gots to have (?).
Leavin em hung, breakin fakin your studio-gangsta bitch, trick. Niggas that get picked. I m hittin the shit, and I split in the
midst of the darkness. Consider me heartless. Oh, yes, Flesh, me runnin a ho check. Better check your Rolex, your time now
for givin up respect to them SCTs from C-L-E. We re scandalous nigga that dwell, hail off on the far side, and bail, leavin the
trail of the bloody victims. The fifth dog maulin em all, and never them catch me slippin . And sippin a fifth of the wine, and
niggas be dyin , and steadily trippin . We flippin the scripts on over, see the Bone ll be never saw, but niggas told ya, triggers
showed ya. East nine-nine, five soldiers.
Wish:
Murder one, redrum, try to run and get away, but it s just to late. Watch out buckshots, when I come, buck, buck, better
guard that fuckin face. Dumpin them slugs on ya, fool. Rollin with me trues, drinkin brews. Don t start no shit. We come
equipped, so niggas, stay cool. One-eighty-seven, you think that you re goin to heaven, put slugs all up in that chest, and hell is
where you ll be dwellin . Pop in them clips, and them bodies me dumpin , watchin ya fall to the pave with me nine-milli
pumpin . Puttin them bodies all off in them graves.
Cleveland is the city where we come from, so run, run, run.
East [ninety-nine] Nineteen Ninety, -ninety-nine, -nine, -nine, -nine.
East Nineteen ninety-nine, my niggas . . .
Think about back in the days when the year was eighty-nine. Little nigga on the grind, gotta get mine, doin my crime with (two
in here), steady stackin my ends, put my serve down on the Clair, Nine-nine. Hittin up the Graveyard Shift with Will, Lil Will,
Big Wally, and Wish Bone. Little Wally highrollers, and he wonder why niggas so strong. Krayzie Bone, stack right, take
much love, kept a nigga on his toes in the game. It s an everyday thang, when you let your nuts hang, gotta make a grand at
least daily, man. Them Cleveland hustlas, never no bustas. Thug to the Heartbeat of niggas from the Land, fool, and the old
school. Just serve out your sentence and be cool. Fuckin with trues, Rest In Peace, lil nigga Ripsta, stressed that Bone love.
Smokin on bud, cause a nigga Mo Thug callin all my niggas when it s time to nut em. In the nine nine, niggas gonna drop to
the #1 with the gun, so run run. Cleveland is the city where a nigga come from, slangin them dum-dums.
Krayzie:
Niggas it s goin down, up in the C-Town, get em up with the thugs [thugs], and that nigga with the bud [bud]. Get the fifth of
Rose, but the liquor store closed, and I m all out the forty. Blaze up, nigga. Burn up the buddah, smoke it all up. Nigga, don t
stiff on the reefer. Bone runnin up outta the cut with this fresh sack of hydro, and this shit is creeper. Peep the street, bust
again on Double Glock-glock with a me rocks. Cops sweatin me by. Copper better drop when the gunshot pop blood,
dumpin the body, and the bullshit stop. Whenever the trouble knocks with the po-po, niggas roll solo, split up, and swerve,
Krayzie take caution. Take all my llello and tossed it. See none when they roll to the curb. Runnin , duckin , jumpin up in the
Land. My niggas, it s Krayzie. We slang and we buck and we bang on the Glock, and my nigga, that s daily. Who the nigga
with the twelve gauge? [Pump.] Mr. Sawed-off Leather Face, so ya better pray. Eternally thugsta. East Nineteen
Ninety-nine, we roll for the devil.
Bizzy:
Gotta give P s to them SCTs and (I roll thick), thug on the Glock. Pump, blast for the cash, then I ll mash the gas, gotta dash
away from them cops. Got Lil Mo! Hart steadily flippin off Rose. Rippin up flesh with six blows. Rest, that thugsta, yes, I
pump slugs, and I be druggin em off in dumpsters. Fuck them po-po. Bloody they bodies they burn, burn. And I guess that
hood ll never learn. Gotta dip (both in ones and) sherm. When I m on a mission for my city, bigger niggas be bailin out with
me. Roll up the window, me wind blow, fuck with my indo (and that in a me). Even though the barrels of me twelve gauge are
empty, me scandalous niggas up outta the woods, buckin , no fuckin with the family. Now feel a nigga, understand me. Much
love, much (buck) for them St. Clair thugs. East Ninety-nine is where you find us, slangin me muthafuckin drugs.
Flesh:
Done, done, leavin the niggas stunned, cockin pop with a me gun. The lead ll be letting they head off, and I gots to have (?).
Leavin em hung, breakin fakin your studio-gangsta bitch, trick. Niggas that get picked. I m hittin the shit, and I split in the
midst of the darkness. Consider me heartless. Oh, yes, Flesh, me runnin a ho check. Better check your Rolex, your time now
for givin up respect to them SCTs from C-L-E. We re scandalous nigga that dwell, hail off on the far side, and bail, leavin the
trail of the bloody victims. The fifth dog maulin em all, and never them catch me slippin . And sippin a fifth of the wine, and
niggas be dyin , and steadily trippin . We flippin the scripts on over, see the Bone ll be never saw, but niggas told ya, triggers
showed ya. East nine-nine, five soldiers.
Wish:
Murder one, redrum, try to run and get away, but it s just to late. Watch out buckshots, when I come, buck, buck, better
guard that fuckin face. Dumpin them slugs on ya, fool. Rollin with me trues, drinkin brews. Don t start no shit. We come
equipped, so niggas, stay cool. One-eighty-seven, you think that you re goin to heaven, put slugs all up in that chest, and hell is
where you ll be dwellin . Pop in them clips, and them bodies me dumpin , watchin ya fall to the pave with me nine-milli
pumpin . Puttin them bodies all off in them graves.
Cleveland is the city where we come from, so run, run, run.
East [ninety-nine] Nineteen Ninety, -ninety-nine, -nine, -nine, -nine.
