[Hook: DJ Paul]
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit (talkin' that shit)
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit

[Verse 1: Lord Infamous]
Demonic mind, why must I love to take so many lives?
Why do I leave them suffering lying there to die?
Why do I send their mother pictures just to watch her cry?
Why does the Devil use me to commit these evil crimes?
Why must I inflict all these multiple stab wounds
I'm grabbing the butcher knife
How come I must torture and paralyze victims
Before I'm truly satisfied?
I cannot stop tryin' to prove to myself
That I am a weaponry master
So I seem to keep stocking with silencers
Bodies are scattered all over the pasture

[Verse 2 : Juicy J]
Playa hatin' fools, for you fools, I got them tools
Tools like the Glock 19, blastin' on the scene
Somethin' like a nightmare in your dreams
Mean with them guns, you can't run, leavin' bodies numb
H-to-the-K one I spray, Juicy J bar none
I'm always hearin' shit about my n***as in the Three 6 Mafia
Prophet Entertainment on the rise, bitch
You fools don't know when I roll up on you
I will have to spray ya
This goes out to the mothafuckas who doubt
Jealous playa haters
[Hook: DJ Paul]
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit (talkin' that shit)
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit
I hold your head down and
I'll buck you like a convict bitch (talkin' that shit)

[Verse 3 : Gangsta Boo]
This goes out to all you suckas
Playa hatin' mothafuckas
Jealousy is in you bustas
Ho, you know I'm really bumpin'
Triple Six is blastin' bitches, robbin' riches, that's the scoop
Playa hatin' mothafucka, hate the shit by Gangsta Boo
N***a, just remember all the killas just ain't in yo' hood
Triple Six is all around yo' ass, now ho, I wish you would
Test this fuckin' playa, playa haters better listen close
Now go run for help, my .32 will bring you to the floor

[Verse 4 : DJ Paul]
Steppin' up out the house
Fresh black Jordans on my feet
I'm trippin' out off of some rumors
Some bustas said I got killed last week
But the Devils don't die, just get high
Fool, you don't even not hear me though
And if it's true, then it's the resurrection
Of the Three 6 Mafia, h'izz'oe
Let me break it down 'fore the rumor starts
Who forced those untrue lips to go 'round?
Plenty clowns, we gun down, Jakers live not in the M-Town, yeah
But there's some playa hatin' goin' on
So I gotta, kinda like stay str'izz'ap
Another fresh paint job on the Chevy thang
Octavo's full of steel and I'm izz-out
[Hook: DJ Paul]
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit (talkin' that shit)
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit
I hold your head down and
I'll buck you like a convict bitch (talkin' that shit)
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit (talkin' that shit)
This for all you, this for all you, this for all you
This for all you playa haters who be talkin' that shit
I hold your head down and
I'll buck you like a convict bitch (talkin' that shit)

[Outro: DJ Paul]
Talkin' that shit, talkin' that shit, talkin' that shit