(feat. Manson Family)

[Tommy Wright III talking]

The number one hated, the most wanted
The all want us, the FBI, DEA, the CIA, ATF
What the $#&@ do y'all want?

(All you do is run your !@%& mouth)
You don't know what you gettin' in
(..Boy you ain't finna do a !@%& thing..)

What the $#&@ wrong wid you boy?
(..!@%&it if you gon' bring it, bring it on...)
My ^!$$% T-Roc what's up?, Destineal, whoopin' on ^!$$%s


[Verse 1: Tommy Wright III]
Everything I say I'ma do it for real

Me and Lil Sko finna go for the kill
^!$$%s talk %#@! when I let go hit the floor
Make a hoe drop like dominoes I'ma go

Out the patio cause the po-pos at the door
Gotta lay low, I'm the man wid the say-so
Feds want mo' ah the underground pro

Still servin' junkies scalin' up the hootie hoe pajerio
Feel me hoe, I'm the one that's all in ya %#@!
You the one I'm tellin' all my ^!$$%s go an' get

Cryin' like a (*##$ when the thirty R six
Boutta spit sick %#@! just like Blair Witch
Wanted me to let the ^!$$% look at my car

Don't wanna get killed better burn some rubber
Already took six two sent dead brothers
I wasn't raised by my mom I raised my mother

$#&@ talkin' boy and back it up just like $$#
You peep up on ah, meet up on ah, creep up on ah
Sneak up on ah, peep up on ah, leap up on ah, beat up on ah

And heat up on him lookin' like I am wid long hair and a mask
I'ma mash everytime they make one dime
I'ma blast soon if they $#&@ wid mine

$#&@ squashin take caution when you talk about Memphis
It's Tommy time and who the $#&@ told you different
^!$$% y'all ain't the %#@! y'all just the piss

That come up out my dick wid Canadian Mist
Betta have a tone goin' on wid this
What I make and what my way of sight gives is hits

Witness, better send a letter to the CIA
This is gonna get a (*##$ sprayed
Talk is cheap just like the river runs deep

Talk is cheap like every hoe is a freak beep

[Chorus: C-9 & Tommy III]

Talk is cheap, we creepin' so thick
We blastin' on haters wid nothin' but anna
[Body bags, body casts]

You ^!$$%s gonna die tryna $#&@ wid my stamina
[x4]


[Verse 2: Lil Sko]
I'm sick ah this he say she say %#@!
I'm pointin' some fingers I'm callin' some names

Haters be talkin' mo' %#@! than a project (*##$
I ain't in this game for the mother$#&@in' fame
I'm steppin' on toes puttin' ^!$$%s in chokeholds

So keep that $$# away, like no dough
Frontin' like you ain't no hoe
It'll be mo' ^!$$%s comin' wid razor fours

Even if you packin' yo heat
I betta not catch ya slippin' in the streets, ^!$$% What!
On the realer my ^!$$%, if it never get bigger

You still my ^!$$%, you still my ^!$$%
Now how many mother$#&@in' ^!$$%s wanna roll wid Sko,
Pimp hoes wid Sko, sell blow wid Sko, do shows wid Sko

Just the way that this Dirty South %#@! supposed to go
Lil Sko wid the pro ^!$$% you ain't know?
Well now ya know, if you a friend or foe

If you a lady or hoe, if you rich or poor
You really need to recognize ya being Memphisized
I'm stickin' and shootin', in between ya eyes

I'm puttin' me wood, in between ya hoe thighs
Why ya actin' surprised when ya really need to realise
That I'll leave a ^!$$% paralyzed,
Sko and Tommy III ^!$$% we down for whatever
Better get ya %#@! together ^!$$% gangs is terror

And come up with a plan, that's fortune for clever
Dis Street Smart write ya seed an' aunt a letter

[Tommy Wright]
Everytime we dis a ^!$$% what we do we shut 'em down

Everytime we run into them mother$#&@az not a sound
^!$$%s like to talk about %#@! that they don't know about
In yo face and not behind you when we bust you in yo mouth

[Chorus]


[Verse 3: C-9 & Boss Bytch]
Y'all ^!$$%s ain't no killas y'all scared of us
When it's time to handle business y'all scared to bust
Scared to ride, runnin' off to much at the mouth

Tell some lies, claimin' you ain't scared to die
Make up ya mind, sony $$#, phony $$# (*##$
Phony $$# trick, flodgin' $$# corny $$# snitch
Talkin' that %#@!, is gonna cost ya wig to get split
Mark $$# (*##$ ya never get me caught in that click
Friends or foes, what ya claim to be I don't know

Talkin' you bold you all up in my grill like golds
I oppose, watch the snubnose reload
Bloody ya clothes, give action like a killa suppose
Come wig and jump and keep on stumblin' keep it comin'
Leave ya numb and keep it crunk and chief a junt
And catch a murder charge or somethin'
Pull up at a river grab a body bag dump him

Adrenaline, rushin' through my lil $$# pumper

[Boss Bytch]
How many mother$#&@in' ^!$$%s wanna go to the med, wid two in the head?
Bleed bloody red from a (*##$ wid a bigger glock, and a bigger pop
Naw it won't stop, until ya body drop cause, ya mouth be hot
You be talkin' the %#@!, but don't be walkin' the %#@!

You be singin' the %#@!, but don't be bringin' the %#@! (*##$
What's up better run for ya trunk, too late, caught ya by the gate
Mind gone, $$# gone, all that %#@! will be blown away
No love from me to you, $#&@ you
I hang wid the Sinista Thugs showin' no love
Lookin' for a ^!$$% wid a mean mug
It'll be his $$# I'ma push and shove (*##$


[Chorus]