Laughter, and maniacal voice speaking.
Koopsta Knicca
Hit man bustin' up in my do',
So I grab my 44.
Now them bustas on the flo',
Covered up by pillows.
Oh no.
I'm lookin' for them trizicks,
Tryin' to put a group up in they clizick,
I'm comin' up quick,
I'm takin' no shots,
bustin' these caps off in these bitches.
So why you wanna mess with this,
so why you wanna take off this peice,
Fool I'm bad to the Bone, Jone,
Chrome tech (...?...)
Fatality.
You'll be fled,
I'll be glad,
When I make you hit that grass.
I ain't showin' no mercy,
God damnit I'm blastin' that ass
I'm havin' visions of flesh,
(...?...) like that (?) tech.
That mess in my head,
If the constantly teachin' this evil shit.
You hear some laughin'
whose that in the window gaspin'?
Now if you feel me,
tell me whose that creepin' fo' yo' head.
Gangsta Boo
This goes out to all of you suckas,
Includin' you crossers,
Includin' you bustas.
This shit is so fucked up,
I can't even trust ya.
This lady is tired of you motha fuckaz.
I'm bumpin' so hard,
It's like oh my God,
Gangsta Boo is rippin' the mic all apart,
If yo' ass wasn't so full of that fart,
Never would you have tasted me from the start,
I'm Trying to tell you hoe,
Let me tell you bitch,
You ain't my fuckin' friend.
Prophet Entertainment,
Member known as Boo,
Had to tell yo ass time and time again.
Ride with my click,
Bitch Triple 6,
Is all I need,
plus my weed and the n-i-n-e,
To keep you frilly hoes off of me
Come into my face,
With that pimpin' ass shit,
Watch you see this gangsta bitch get scandolous,
You friendly ass hoes I scratch off my list
I don't need you,
don't want you bitch.
Crunchy Black
Friends like foes in these hoes,
Keep on talkin' all that shit.
Actin' like they bad as fuck,
But they ain't really talkin' bout shit.
Keep on dissin' this click,
And we gon' hurt one of you tricks.
Put yo' body in a ditch
Or dig a grave for that shit.
Don't you ask who like it,
Crunchy Black did it bitch.
Keep on talkin' all that noise
And I'ma get big like big business
Chorus
I have to tell these niggas time and time again.
Bitch, I ain't yo fuckin friend
I'll do yo' ass in
DJ Paul
Smiles can be deceivin' even if it's yo' friends.
And hoes that know we can't be even steven,
Should not believe in.
Too late,
One of 'em slip it's my foes,
You already got my glock to the back of yo head,
Prayers already said,
Done.
Consider yourself dead.
Your family and friends might be sayin' that I crossed you out,
But nigga you was fake from the beginning,
So I had to toss you out.
Friend I'm no moe,
I kill all you foes,
Step in my (?) and (...?...)
Forty mac to yo back,
The hammer release,
And leave yo chest with holes.
All in the club,
With that buck ass shit.
You want the mic,
Then I'm a slap you with the mic bitch.
You couldn't rock it with a test tube and a pot,
It's kind of hard,
You can't beat us,
And you can't join us,
Cause we ain't gonna stop.
Scarecrown
Some of the superior astronomical bends,
From that of my mystical dreams,
Of the many scenes,
Mighty, manipulative, mercilous,
Multiple murderers,
Sit back in dangerous,
Hittin' and strippin'
And critical injury,
Misery, seriously,
Witness the tremory,
Tradjedy, agany,
Infamy, agany,
Brutal mentality,
Assassatain.
My voodoo tribe,
If you want to be fried,
Put on a feary disguise.
Lord Infamous takin' no prisoners,
forget the begging, pleading, and the cries.
Your reservation,
revalation,
A satanic nation,
Has been prophesized.
I can look in your eyes,
and tell that there is fear,
from the eternal burning of each of your lies.
Flights of headlights,
Black clothes,
And limos,
Another negro
Startin' to decompose,
From his casket, the Scarecrow (?) place a bloody black rose.
Who knows the hate,
that goes behind closed doors.
With corpses froze,
In six foot holes,
Wicked throws,
Evil flows,
And torturing of foes.
Chorus
I have to tell these niggas time and time again.
Bitch, I ain't yo fuckin friend
I'll do yo' ass in