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[DJ Paul] (Crunchy Black) |
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Finally, I got all real *******z on on a mutha******' Posse song |
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*******z that's down to cut some mutha******' heads |
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(Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya) [*repeats through whole song*] |
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From hear to ATL, to Nashville, back to the M-town ******* |
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And you know what that mean ******* |
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Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious ******* |
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Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious ******* |
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[Project Pat] |
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Call a *******, drug dealer, out here on the track ******* |
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******* smoker, coke snorter, come and get a pack ******* |
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Cane slanger, ******* banger, dog I'll bring it to ya |
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If you got a problem with me, holla at my Luger |
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Dro puffer, cheese come up, when we on the track jack |
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Hit you in the head, with the gat, 'til your skull crack |
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Blood gu*******n', head ru*******n', act first, no discussion |
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Come with that bull*******t, then the bullets start bustin' |
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[Lord Infamous] |
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First crime, we came with Mystic Stylez on grime |
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You slip, I Live By My Rep don't ******* with mine |
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Da End, the souls of men embedded inside the Posse |
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The Prophet, the Posse, we all collide |
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We brutal, the Chapter 2 to end the phase, our mind |
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In crime, reminds, CrazedNLazDayz |
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Heypno-tize, and blazed another gold plate |
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Sixty 6, sixty 1, The Smoke Clears, evaporate |
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[Juicy J] |
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I got a 357, a tec with a black clip |
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A 180 pounds witha fist that will bust lips |
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Some killaz on my side, if I tell 'em they gon' get |
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A fiend wiolatin' the business, I ain't wit' |
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And now in 2000 you talkin' the same *******t |
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And now in 2000 I'll bust and I won't miss |
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They smoke is in the air the liquor is still a fill |
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The grill is still gold, and the curls they know kick doors |
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[MC Mack] |
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First one of us is done, hollow tips come by the ton |
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Two AK's, and put some drama to leave this *******z bodies numb |
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I don't talk this *******t for fun, ******* it back and let it go |
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And 6 shots, from the 3-6 shooters lettin' 'em know, WHOA! |
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Picture me, naked face, to kickin' in your door |
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4, *******z deep, bandanas with black calicos |
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So, when we creep, drop cause I'ma hit you nine times |
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Take your nine lives, bump up and Hypnotize your mind, blow |
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[Cruchy Black] |
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You can believe this, you can believe that |
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And believe I got a baseball bat, and I'm bustin' your head black |
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You believe I'm comin' strong, you believe I'm all grown |
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You believe, that *******, I love to get it on |
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You half steppin' |
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I got the weapon |
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Boom! Boom! I'm blastin' at your mind to get you believe that |
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I love to kill, I love the thrill |
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And I love to put a ******* body parts in the field, ******* |
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[La Chat] |
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No no, come, come and get this *******, ain't got no time fo no *******t |
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Got all my boys, don't make no noise, |
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just throw that trick in the ditch |
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It ain't no way La Chat gon' let it slide, with the *******t that you done |
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I got my piece for what I do, to show you who the ******* number one |
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I shot that ******* without causes, ain't got no love in my heart |
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It ain't no way that I can't handle, keep that tone in my jaw |
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This ain't no crap, I speak the truth, gotta come too thick to get me |
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On one of you hoes, before you come, La Chat ain't gone easy |
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[Koopsta Knicca:] |
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Man a *******'ll take that lil bit out her ******* for them papers |
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Get the ******* away from me ho because the crew can't stand them vapors |
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Take her, break her, to whip that funky ******* |
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Talkin' that *******t about this |
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man you'll get 10 slugs up in your arm pits |
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Yeah we can do i,t take your time and do it right |
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You can gimme the ******' chewin', I can ******* you all night |
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Wanna fight about your friends see how them ******* gon' start |
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See now that's that type of *******t that get my muh'******' ******* hard |
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[T-Rock] |
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Capital Mack-11's, and load 'em full of ammunition |
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Terrorist sect's, we pull and lock'em in the Expedition |
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No set a *******z got guns equivalent to what we pack |
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Nuclear pistols and fire scorchin' automatic gats |
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How in the ******* can you handle the, butsa damager |
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Toss that ******* over the banaster, like trash canisters |
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Hollow points into your battle troops, when I have to shoot |
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Plus I'll be storin' the cap for you, and trick be absolute |
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[MC Mack] |
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I woke up early Saturday morning, |
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suddenly your phone was ringin' off the charger |
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Thinkin' to myself, man, is it a ******* or cop, or is it them robbers |
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Got MC Mack of in a scheme, I'm stainin' for my dividends |
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And pay a livin', neh *******, |
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gon' bother my cheese gon' reach the ceilling fan |
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You can catch my in that president thing, on gizold when you see me |
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You can joke me, ever rope me, best believe your bleed this evenin' |
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******* the reason, and the treason, |
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time to get dirty ******* better I'll pop it |
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You was gaspin' for your life, but all I heard was Killa Klan Kaze |
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[DJ Paul] |
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******* think we playin', think this killa *******t a joke |
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Don't ******* around with HCP and get you ass smoked, ho |
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Comin' with some fully auto's, ******* some semi's |
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Hit 'em with some hollow auto's, cause I desp-iz-ise |
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Blastin' like some rondo batays, for you miatays |
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Koop with double clicks and duck tape, and wicked wizays |
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And I, perferin' keepin' busin' in my freak time |
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Taught 'em in that buried unknown, they wanna reap why |
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Give you second thoughts about that businness, you then finished right |
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Take you to the vault, cash it in, all night flight |
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And I'm in a bad mood, ******* make it that |
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Plus, I gotta ease on this nine-milly, willy, ******* I slang with that |
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*******, *******, it's CP ******* |
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HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse ******* |
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What, what, it's CP ******* |
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HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse ******* |
