[Intro: Lord Infamous & DJ Paul]
That power can change a lot of these n***as
They step on a lot of toes, up that way up the ladder
But they don't, they forget what goes up gotta come down
But all that's go change
1997 Prophet Posse
You know what I'm sayin
Loved by few, hated by many
We in the motherfucking house
We can't be stopped
You can get dealt with at the end though
It's all good
You better bring dangerous toys
My n***a!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you wanna play with mafia boys
Y'all know where we located
We ain't hard to find
We nation motherfucking wide
Bitch
We love the M and we ain't tryin to leave it
For no n***a, nobody
Staying real to it
Representin to the fullest

[Verse 1: DJ Paul]
You ain't no real Black Haven n***a
Finger facin forward but you ain't the one to trigger
Even if you figured you was a bit bigger
Thank you all that but ain't got a glove made of glitter
N***a when we see ya we go test ya ass
Bomb rushin to the curb and we go bless ya ass
Me and Chris in the burban trying to catch ya ass
It's all good 5 G's and we go set ya ass up
Picture me purchasing ya tape cover wasn't good enough
Don't like the scene is just like calling bluff
Much as we try to keep it cool
They all behind the back of me and my crew
Glocks and Techs with the vest we be getting it on
And we ain't gonna stop until the early morn
So stop trading with this shit and get ya on
Three 6 Mafia, Killa Man I'm gone
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
Who is that fool who be talking that shit
Sayin he down, but he diss Triple Six
If that bitch step he go get his wig split
Blast smiff-n-wession 18 in the clip
Ain't no gang bang he don't even set trip
Grew up on kool-aid, potatoes, and chips
Why playa hate when you know we legit
Bank account fat and they riding the dick
We you need dough ask ya dad for the shit
20's and 10's like you shopping for bricks
Got to pay back all the cheese he done spent
Studio time and the whole rest for rent

[Verse 3: Crunchy Black]
Juiceman I heard it's some n***as dissin
But If they keep on dissin, then they momma gonna miss them
This ain't no game n***a, here's my fuckin opposition
Man I'm gettin tired of you n***as actin just like bitches
And we go ride out

[Verse 4: MC Mack, from Killa Klan Kaze]
Them bitches always ask me why do I call myself the Mack
Is it because of those ho's I done broke
Or is it the way my cheese just stacked
But never the less it's time to wreck and check
This buster that's livin out of state
That's dwelling in by ways of Memphis
Contemplate you must be fake
Playa hate to the first degree
You downing some n***as who down with me
See salt mouth snails not M-town playas
The Killa Klan Kaze gon watch you bleed
So play me like a ho and a n***a like Mack
Go stang ya stash
When that bitch n***a call me out
I'm emptying my clip off in his ass
So hold ya breath, n***a is you down
My pimping is thicker than the shit you talk
Predestined to burn eternally in hell contrast
By the way, ya ass done walk
MC mother fucking Mack
My Killa Klan Kaze be having my back
The Triple 6 Mafia ready to jack
So get the next n***a clothes off ya back
[Verse 5: Koopsta Knicca]
So many days, them n***as laid and prayed in 12 ways
Up on top of graves, resting place for heaven sake a soul to take
Straight thru the woods, deep in them hoods you find no good
Only bitches and other n***as rise in the wrong mood
So run them off the road before the gold hit ya headlight
It's silent night, deadly night and guess who the sacrifice
The signs of a Lunatic
The Koopsta can't take that shit
Makes my brain and mind split
It's something like a crucifix

[Verse 6: Lord Infamous]
And I wish one of these punk ass n***as
Would step up to the Scarecrow
Beat a ho, fuck a n***a up slow
Cut his throat, puffin' on the Indo
Throw him through a window
With bloody clothes
Full with bullet holes
Lil dope heads can't hang but they gangbang
Snd they slangin and the rangin
Maintaining insane is how menace remain
Just listen to the mother fucking rain
Wash ya blood down the drain
Bitch if ya itchin round me don't scratch
Cause I'll pull out the ax
Cut off ya nut sacs
Fuckin with the devil mask
Drop you into a batch
N***as ain't no match
Get drilled out where they at
N***a better stick with smoking pot
Cause the shit he's sniffing in his snot
Make him feel kinda hot
Gonna end up in a burial plot
Make me pull out the Glock
And pop-pop n***a get pop
[Hook: DJ Paul]
Another n***a car, another n***a clothes
N***as be flodging on these videos
But watch when that true gun fold
Another n***a car, another n***a clothes
N***as be flodging on these videos
But watch when that true gun fold