Bizzy:
Shhh. Shut up, nigga. Shut the fuck up, nigga. Here they come. Here they come. Here they come, nigga. Duck down,
Nigga. Duck down. Duck down. [Dogs barking.] Shit.
Cop:
There they are.
Bizzy:
Shit. Come on, nigga. Come on.
Cop:
These assholes are nothin’.
Bizzy:
Nigga, run for it. Nigga make—
Cop:
Freeze, muthafucka!
Bizzy:
Shit.
[Gunshot.]
Bizzy:
I’m little Ripsta. I’m . . .
Krayzie:
Leather Face comin’ to kill ’em at night.
Bizzy:
Die. Die. Die.
Krayzie:
. . . so must we buck them studio thugstas. I’m . . .
Bizzy:
. . . willing and ready to ride.
Krayzie:
I pop pop droppin’ them niggas with the glock gun. Nigga, you best start run, duckin’ the shotgun, leavin’ ’em up off my block