Bizzy: Yeah. Supervision.

If you look into my eyes. If you look into my eyes
(tell me what you see.) Tell me what you see, you
see ...

If you look into my eyes, tell me what you see,
you see ...

Bizzy: See, they don’t understand me. I’ve been
through him, and him, and him, and then come at
慹m again. I know niggas that’s in the pen, and
figgas for you and them. Evil creepinon my
people. Chances are slim. Be married to the music.
Boom! Hit the stage, ready to die for it, cry for
it. Cut the games. Many tried for it, lied for it,
get a catchy chorus and fly for it. Take orbit,
let gravity be your fortress tonight. Elevate your
brain, hold your heart and just sing, 慶ause
gracefully we age through all the pain. Sentiments
in rain. Evidence of it’s heavenly fangs
distained for my explanation on 慶ane. The fame
was the sum of our money, chained in a murder,
murder shame, with a pistol and a pissed-off bang!
Well, then let me finish with thug love. I’m off
to hit the club with the bud and the track, hit
the mud. Keep the gun, it’s my first love.

Tell me what you see, you see ... If you look into
my eyes.

Supervision: I’m making love to my music, my
music. My music makes me high. (Bizzy: Tell me
what you see, you see ... If you look into my
eyes.)

Supervision: I’m making love to my music, like my
music’s my lady. Sippinon Brandi, intoxicated.
Humminto __. And i’m chillinwith Krayzie, and
we high off that Thai. My reason’s why, like R.
Kelly, I believe I can fly. And plus, around me I
can’t see, my vision’s clouded. Premeditate 慹m
or bust, and please label me 慴out it, 慴out it.
As I collect my thoughts, take me a breath. God
bless my homie insert name, he took one in the
chest. And yes, but he still here to rap a song,
just another day. While ya bullshhhhh, crack the
top on that Alize! ’cause we don’t play in this
land of the loc’s, where brothers, they smoke
trees up with dust, and see, they bleed. Then they
plead. ’cuase i’m on top, straight ballin
Makinlove to my woman, but my music’s steady
callin and never stallin But it comes to me, you
should please let me have prophecy, yes, I make
love to my music. I’m makinlove ...

Krayzie: I love music. Any kind of music, as long
as it’s pumpinto keep me thuggin self in check.
Maintain the mentality I got to keep my composure,
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/xddand music’s the perfect potion. When i’m
coastinroll a blunt up, roll 慹m up. Put some of
them jams on. And, nigga, we zonein so put on
some old school, homie, let’s hit the dance
floor. Music really makes me happy. When i’m
stressin mental hot, I put on some instrumentals.
Stop, I think about what I done been through. I
put it to paper, then put it to wax, and kick some
facts, sit back and relax, now everything is all
right. If it wasn’t for this music, i抎 be dead,
fuck a jail, 慶 ause a nigga ain’t never
goinback to that hell. Feel me. Kill me. And if
it wasn’t for the man upstairs blessing me with
talent, like the average thug nigga, would I
vanish? But this platinum got us niggas
established. Got us living lavish. Apply yourself,
survival tactics, nigga, and y抋ll can have it.
Even though it’s stress and strain in the game,
one thing I can’t do is ... Is stop the music.

Supervision: I’m making love to my music, my
music. My music makes me high. (Bizzy: Tell me
what you see, you see ... If you look into my
eyes.)

Layzie: Nigga, it don't stop, and it won't stop
慶ause i just can't quit. This game be
runninthrough my veins with nothinbut platinum
hits. And nigga it don't stop, 慶ause it won't
stop, 慶ause it just don't quit. This game be
runninthrough my veins with nothinbut platinum
shit. Nigga I gotsta have it. It’s like automatic
rounds when I put this down. Constantly fuckin up
instrumentals, you remember that thuggish ruggish
sound. You can feel the love goin through the
speakers, creepin livinlife on the deep end.
Better believe you won’t catch me sleepin put up
a beat and I heat, dismiss the flames. Nigga, cut
the games, me and my music we sleep and eat
together. We hop in the Benz, get off in the
winds, and we run the streets together. And we on
a mission to stick up the industry full throttle.
Mo Thugs, mo money the motto, so, nigga, the slugs
that I bring come hollow. Nigga we can do this in
the song, or nigga we can do this in person.
Whatever you do when you cross the gunline boss,
little Lay'll be puttinhis work in. ’cause me
and my music, nigga, we don't take that shit.
Nigga, put the pen to the pad, get mad and I break
that bitch. Nigga, it's just the thug in me, mixed
up with the indo and the OlE. When I drop this
thugsta poetry, I make all y'all know who the fuck
I be, niggas!

Supervision: I’m making love to my music, my
music. My music makes me high. (Bizzy: Tell me
what you see, you see ... If you look into my
eyes.)