"Ever since I was seven I've been a troubled-ass nikka
Used to sneak my father's guns just to play with that triggas
(Don't fukk with my guns, boy)
One day I'm playin' with the nine
I get a flashback, and get to thinkin' about
The muthafukkin' bullies in my class
That's always fukkin with me, but this shyt's has to stop
The next morning I snuck
And I stuck my father's nine in my lunchbox
I'm on my way to school, that's when I spotted the fakkit
Removed the nine from the lunchbox
And slipped the bytch my jacket
Now I'm lookin' for a reason just
To straight let the trigger click
I walked over to him and said
"What's up now, bytch?"
The fukka-sucka started steppin'
And it swung but he missed
I knew the nikka felt pissed
Cause it was the nine that he kissed
I socked the bytch in the face
And to the ground with this sucka
And this boy didn't hesitate
He broke off quicker than a muthafukka (Run, muthafukka, run!)
Ran inside the building thinking that was gonna save him
But I caught up with the nikka
Pulled out the nine, and I sprayed him
Tossed the gun to the pavement
I'm heading straight for the hizzy
No more will Krayzie be bullied
Cause Krayzie Bone just got busy
Then ran home, told my father
He said "I know why you did it, son
The punk was fukkin' with ya, so ya had to get rid of him"
Heard a knock on the door, he thought
"Yo, what the fukk is this?!"
Police surrounded my hizzy with reporters and psychologists
My father grabbed his gun and started pullin' the trigger
("Get him, Dad, get him!")
Now you know why I'm labeled a little crazy-ass nikka
I watched while my Pops continued blastin'
My attitude is hereditary, nikka
Cause I'm the son of an assassin"
This is my favorite verse from Krayzie Bone
