Lyrics: Menensky Mobbin
Album: Heaven’z Movie
Artist: Bizzy Bone
 
Menensky-muthafuckin’-Tribe mobbin’ on muthafuckas.
See, it’s like the Menensky Mob, see, they used to be the ones who was fightin’
the slave master,
so the people didn’t go on the boat, you know what I’m sayin’?
[Shit, smoke. Can a black man get some paper up in this place, man?]
B-L-A-C-K H-O-L-E.

[But I’m a black man in a white man’s world.]

Fuck this shit.
Oh, Menensky [Menesky!]
mobbin’. Menensky mobbin’, nigga.
Oh, Menensky [Menesky!]
mobbin’. Menensky mobbin’, nigga.
Oh, Menensky [Menesky niggas around the muthafuckin’ world] mobbin’. Menensky
mobbin’, nigga.
Oh, Menensky
[Menensky!] mobbin’.
Oh, Menesky mobbin’, Watts niggas with problems.
And the (..?..) thugs are from the projects,
smokin’ chronic with love with the gun in the glove,
nigga run, nigga run, nigga run.
Menensky mobbin’
muthafucka!
Menensky mobbin’ muthafucka with Watts niggas in Cali
ready to riot and rally around, quiet, brawlin’ in my
back door ready for warfare, declare like my Capo–Confuscious gettin’
wacko and smokin’ tabacco.
Yeah my niggas with tatoos, a sack of crack, and I’ll pat you down too.

My voodoo
with that flip flop flow, don’t make me blast you.
Right past you with the mask on., bitch.
Sippin’ the passion, get it twisted mister bitchafied.
This introduction bustin’.
I’m bumpin’ properly, property of my poverty,
God we need a job.
Clock me in my Saab, Menesky
mobbin’, bobbin’ and weavin’, no prob.

You niggas’ sloppy, don’t copy,
get popped, nigga don’t
jock me–you’re raw.
Oh, Menensky
mobbin’.
[I’m tryin’ to get high muthafucka’. You’re over here trippin’ and shit, man
what the fuck’s wrong with you?]
Oh, Menensky
mobbin’.
Man, we mobbin’ on niggas.
You niggas can’t fuck with me.
Oh, Menesky mobbin’, Watts niggas with problems.

And the (..?..) thugs are from the projects,

we smokin’ chronic with love with the gun in the glove,
nigga run, nigga run,
nigga run.
Hock my Benz.
Fuck a bitch for the babies and Christmas gifts.
When I’m lifted ridin’ down
the strip: same niggas, the same shit.
Workin’ the graveyard shift back on
Brackland where the broads flipped like a movie,
and my raw dogs trip in the line of duty.

Look at the groupies, holler, holler,
from the hoopties and my Lucciano’s groovy.
Judge and jury my movie confuse me with those other thugs on a high speed chase
say,
say don’t swerve in the mud, and the tight weed taste like love.

We thuggish
in Columbus slums, suburbs, muthafucka word.
Sift through my proberbs

and I heard that we’re rockin’ up birds when out in Florida
and California, New
York, Little Pomona,
shookin’ soldiers, smokin’ doja, composure suppose.
Oh, Menensky
mobbin’.
[Menensky muthafuckin’ mobbin’. Watts niggas. With Watts with muthafuckin’
problems. C’mon, c’mon.]
Oh, Menesky mobbin’, Watts niggas with problems.
And the (..?..) thugs are from the projects. Whoo!
We’re smokin’ chronic with love and the gun in the glove, nigga run, nigga
run, nigga run.
Born to be fruitful, crushin’ crucial,
not the conflict, and b-b-b-bomb shit.

I’m on the chronic chokin’ bubonic, harmonic.

Eyes blood-shot red, loc’d out like Eazy–he dead, surprise.

Fuck the Feds, fuck
the bitches instead.
Step in the bedroom, I’m about to get some head soon.
She’s wet in the womb.
I’m kinda nast and mad at ya, but boom, it’s till the sun up.

What up, done up,
shut up, it’s all in the game, it shouldn’t be painful.
Well why the fuck I feel
so much pain stressin’ my brain?
Let the train pass, look at the sky, play, laugh.

With visions back in May on how I played dad.
Don’t say that and criticize yourself,
I’m’a tell the truth, roof nigga from glock-glock,

no truce, the punk enemies deadly.

And shoot if you wanna.

Smoke water, but you can die, bitch, it’s normal.

Eventually your number’s called
through the portal and muthafucka fall.
Here’s a quarter to call your dogs.
Oh, Menensky
mobbin’.
[Nigga, Menensky mobbin’ world-muthafuckin’-wide on these hoes. C’mon!]
Oh, Menesky mobbin’, Watts niggas with problems.
And the (..?..) thugs are from the projects. Whoo!
We’re smokin’ chronic with love and the gun in
theglove, nigga run, nigga run, nigga run.
[For sure. Menensky niggas mobbin’ world wide. Are you down with the Menensky
Tribe? Get ready for war.]