[Intro: DJ Paul]
Finally!
I got all real ^!$$%s on a mother$#&@in' posse song!

^!$$%s that's down to cut some mother$#&@in heads!
From here to ATL, to Nashville, back to the M-Town, ^!$$%
And you know what that means, (*##$!


Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious, (*##$
Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious, ^!$$%!


[Verse 1: Project Pat]
Call a ^!$$%, drug dealer

Out here on the track ^!$$%
Weed smoker, !@%!e snorter
Come and get a pack, ^!$$%

'Cain slanger, (*##$ banger
Dogg I bring it to ya
If you got a problem with' me

Holla at my Luger
'Dro puffer, cheese cuffer
When we on the jack-jack

Hit'cha in the head with' that Gat
Til' ya skull crack
Blood gushin', head-rushin'

At first, no discussion
Come with' that bull%#@!
Then them bullets start bustin'


[Verse 2: Killa Klan Kaze]
First crime, we came with' "Mystic Stylez"

I rhyme, you slip
I "Live by my Rep", don't $#&@ with' mine
"The End", the souls of men

They beggin' inside the posse
The Prophet, the Posse
We all collide, we brew

The trap-titute, to end they phase
I'm outty
And crime reminds Crazed in Last Days

Hypno-tize and blazed another gold plate
"Sixty-Six, Sixty-One"
The smoke cleared, evaporate


[Verse 3: Juicy J]
I got a three-fifty-seven

A Tech with' a black clip
A hundred-eighty pounds
With' a fist that gon' bust lips

Some killas on my side
If I tell 'em, they gon' get
A fool violatin' the business he ain't with'

And now in 2000, he talkin' the same %#@!
And now in 2000, I bust and I won't miss
The smoke is in the air

The liquor is still a fifth
The groupies still rollin'
The curls ain't no kick foo


[Verse 4: Killa Klan Kaze]
The first one of us is done

Hollow-tips come by the ton
With' two AK's and plus a drum
To leave these ^!$$%'s bodies numb

I don't talk this %#@! for fun
@@#! it back and let it go
With' six shots, from the Three-6 shooters

Lettin' 'em know, whoa
Picture me, naked-faced to kickin' in yo door
Four, ^!$$%s deep, bandanas with' black Calico's

So, when we creep, duck
Cause I might hit you nine times
Take yo nine lives

Jump up and hypnotize yo mind
Blaow!


[Verse 5: Crunchy Black]
You can believe this
You can believe that
And believe I got, a baseball bat
And I'm bustin' yo head, black

And believe I'm comin' strong
And believe I'm all grown
And believe, that ^!$$% I love to get it on
No half-steppin', I gots the weapon
A Boom-Boom! I'm blastin' at'cha

I'm out to get'cha, believe that
I love to kill, I love the thrill
And I love to put a ^!$$%'s body parts in the field, ^!$$%!

[Verse 6: La Chat]

I'm gon' go blastin' to get this (*##$
Ain't got no time for no %#@!
Gotta hope my boys don't make no noise
Just throw that trick in the ditch
Ain't know way La Chat gon' let'cha slide

With' the %#@! that'cha done
I got my bruise on what I do
To show you folks one-by-one
A sheisty (*##$, without no punch
Just got no love in my heart
It ain't no boy that I can't handle

Keep that tone in my trunk
This ain't no threat, I speak the truth
Gotta come too thick to get me
I'm warnin' you hoes before you come
That that ain't gon' be easy

[Verse 7: Koopsta Knicca]

Man a (*##$'ll take that loot
Without a #~!!@ for them papers
Get the $#&@ away from me, ho!
Because the Koop can't stand the vapors
Take her, break her, to whoop that funky (*##$
Talkin' that %#@! about this man
You gets yo chest up in yo arm, (*##$

Yeaah, we can do it
Take yo time, do it right
You can give me the $#&@in' chew
And I could $#&@ ya all night
Wanna fight about'cho friends
See how that be, just don't start
See now that's that type of %#@!

That get my muh'$#&@in dick hard

[Verse 8: T-Rock]
Gather the Mac-11's and load 'em full of ammunition
Terrorist sets, we pull him like I'm in the Expedition
All seven ^!$$%s, got guns equivelent to what we pack
Nuclear pistols, and fire-scorchin' automatic Gats

How in the $#&@ can you handle the
Busted amateur
Toss the (*##$ over the banister
Like trash canisters
Hollow-points into yo gathered troops
When I have to shoot
Plus I be storin' the calf of you

And drinkin' Absolute

[Verse 9: Killa Klan Kaze]
I woke up early Saturday mornin'
Cellular phone was ringin' off the charger
Thinkin' to myself, man is it a (*##$?
A cop or, it's them robbers
Pardon Mr. Mac, off in the scheme
I'm stangin' for my dividends
And pay a livin', ain't makin no brother
My cheese gon' reach the ceiling-fan
You can catch me in that burgandy thang
On grizzle when you see me
You can joke me and provoke me
Best believe the bleedin' is ig'nant
$#&@ the reason and the treason
When time to get dirty, ^!$$% bet our prophet
You was gaspin' for yo last breath
All I heard was Killa Klan Kaze

[Verse 10: DJ Paul]
These (*##$es think we playin'
Think this killa %#@! a joke
Come $#&@ around with' HCP
And get'cho $$# smoked, ho
Comin' with' some fully-auto's
$#&@ some semi's
Hit him with' some hollow-auto's
Cause I despis-ise
Blast 'em like some ralo bate's
For y'all mayates
Equipped with' double clips and duct-tape
And wicked wiz-ays
And I prefer it keep me busy in my free-time
Caught 'em in the curry, and I'm knowin' they wanna re-wind
Give you second thoughts about that business you didn't finish, right?
Took you to the vault, cash it in, all-night flight
And I'm in a bad mood
Cocaine make it that
Plus I got east holder
Nine-mili willy, ^!$$% I slang with' that

[DJ Paul:]
(*##$!
^!$$%, HCP
^!$$%, HCP
Hypnotize Camp Posse, ^!$$%
What! What!
HCP, ^!$$%
HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse