2 Eleven
All About Them Prophets
[Intro: DJ Paul Talking]
Ahh yeah, the Prophet Posse in this motherfucker
For all you dick eaters, and all you dick beaters
For the Nine Triple Six, we reunited motherfucker
We finna do this shit like this......

[Bridge]
N***as be talkin' shit, bout, bout , bout, bout, bout
Whoever they don't like
N***as be talkin' shit, bout whoever they don't like
These playa haters in the club, got us fucked up, fucked up

[Verse 1: Gangsta Blac]
Woke up early Tuesday mornin'
Down with the Prophet and the City
They got a spot on track for Blac
So I got to bump this bitch
Straight from the hood
Where nothin' but crosses get thrown up at yo ass
But Gangsta Blac, gone kick the past
A Prophet bringin' in the cash
If you got some gooder, I think you should uhh
Should send it by the Bird
But if it ain't bad work, then my n***a
Bitch shit, we shoot it to the curb
I'm bout my Prophet, all my n***as they be knowin' the score
From SPV, this Gangsta B., and Prophet got plenty more
[Verse 2: Lord Infamous]
I am divin' in the eye of a Volcano onto oceans made of Lava, readin' novels based on Kamakaze war and things that are bizarre
Having voodoo rituals, bloody and mystical, in the mystic dark of waters traveled by the vicious Great White Shark
Tapin' bombs around my waist in front of the fire place
Soakin' in my pool of kerosene while smokin' a blunt of hay
Twisting, peeling, creature killing, Satans children on the ceiling
Scarecrow lookin' in a mirror that don't give a image

[Verse 3: MC Mack]
Now pimpin' as a Mack
I'm breakin' bitches for my dividends
Don't show no slack, I'm MC Mack
So buster bitches watch yo back
We creepin' in comin', in bumin', breakin' ya off some proper
Deliverin' in killin', mackin' preparin' ya for the slaughter
The Triple Six, Killa Klan
Prophet Entertainment out comin' up
Chargin' bitches, for riches
So ho type n***a, don't test yo nuts
Herringbone with the D around my neck
Got'cha in a sweat, no fessin', j
Ust messin' my mother fuckin' pimpin'
So bitch lets go cash yo check

[Verse 4: Scan Man]
It was a night of a Devils pledge
Strictly 'bout my murder weapon
They bled, the holy red, I lived and popped 'em in shreds
The millions I made 'em I caught 'em slippin'
I rushed 'em quick
With Glocks and chest pop
Drop them bitches in the restin' places
Killa Klan sinisters, evil Lord Ministers, Prophet Entertainment
Breakin' tricks with no lovin' her
Scan fuckin' Man, with them demons craved in the soul
But you still don't hear me though, so you bitches be my hoes
[Verse 5: Crunchy Black]
Heres the blast, why did you look into that mask
Ballin' up early, let me finish up our task
The dirty work, but dirty work
There is no ask, in questions
Teachin' lessons, bout a bullets I be stressin'
My mind is kind of out there high in the sky
I'mma finna go in kill my alli-by, alli-by
No reason why he wonder, how he might just tell a lie
Lookin' down on ya by a Prophet bitch
Crunchy Blac dig ya grave for ya
Prophet

[Verse 6: Juicy J]
To all you wonabees, fake tradin' wonabees
I'm not gonna leave, 'til I found the mother fuckin' Keys
Just walked into yo house, wrap some tape, 'round his Momma mouth
Put the chrome tec, in her face, incase she wanna shout
If I hear the Five-O comin', I'mma break in run
But I'mma gonna get that fuckin' cheese before a n***a done
All About them Prophets, Three Six Mafia, yeah we in the game
Ridin' nothin' but clean ass Lexus, and Suburban thangs

[Verse 7: DJ Paul]
Keepin' all Anna down, haters man I gotta dodge
Stayin' out the eyes of you folks, cause you full of flock
Plain as day, quick to say the Three Six ain't no child's play
Fuckin' with that Junky Fella, pluckin' on that twelve plate
Prophet Posse, reunited, man these hoes hatin' it
All about a meal ticket, local on this killin' shit
Feelin shit, heres a bitch, another hit ya
Fist up with the Renzo click, Glock totin' Mad Dog
Goppin' down Three Six, Mafia, Mafia
[Verse 8: Mr. Slicc]
My temperature I stand in is boilin' hot
If you disrespect you drop, my mind is on that level
So you know I'm packin' Glocks, so watch my finger
I bring a, ho bout to that Anna, don't squeeze her
Get out yo fuckin' Beamer, this is a jack
And don't be reachin' for yo strap
Cause I'm will comnesed to blast, in harass, in then dash in
Back to that Mask Vile, get in all my Prophets, cause its on, and
So I'm real

[Verse 9: 211]
A lot of motherfuckers, wanna know where my heart is
So I fold 'em in break 'em
With ten seconds on my gat, you see a G can regulate
From the shoulder flex, with my hands, I can cause death
I snap in break yo mother fuckin' neck
Now wake him up, so he can smell the coffee
Better yet this far, you ain't hard
Make ya so-scared, cause ya bared
One thing I was taught, you taught, gotta walk
But don't get caught in the mist of the Prophets
In the beams y'all

[Verse 10: Kingpin Skinny Pimp]
Y'all n***as ain't no killers, to many problems be on my chest
Havin' me stressed, suicidal thoughts, I was up every night
I never rest, to many groupies, claimin' they straight
Hangin' around me, knowin' they haters
Ain't never been through what I been through
I dare you, fuck you perpetrators
Skinny Pimp I'm on Anna, and I'm a grown ass man
Feedin' my Momma, beatin' my Father
You think that I'm playin'? I'm strictly sprayin'
Out this game, from my grip
Knowin' I'm real, because I'm steel
OG P-I-M-P, must not come out stackin' little's
I'm so trill, so I live, do these busters know how I feel?
When you smile I see you frown
I'm Bout It, Bout It, leavin' you drown and will
You try to explain, when you know you been crossed
So I'mma let the AK talk, like when a buster talk, South Memphis
N***a what'cha fought? You scared to start a riot, keep that quiet
While I shout, I'm bout that paper player no doubt
When I run my mouth, just set me out
Give me some, Give me some
Where I'm from? Memphis area
Serious about them Prophets
How the fuck you think we fake n***a

This Skinny Pimp
[6x]

Triple Six Mafia!
Triple Triple Six Mafia