[Intro: Juicy J, Lord Infamous & Lil Buck]
Play me some pimpin', man
Mafia, Mafia, Mafia
Haha, you tryna get at me?
Mafia, Mafia, Mafia
Triple Six Mafia, Mafia
You gotta do better than that, I'm sorry
Smoked out, smoked out, loced out
Smo— Smoked out, smoked out
Oh, man

[Chorus: Juicy J]
What's your man got to do with me?
What's your man got to do with me? (Well, I gotta be real)
Not gon' post you on my page, ain't no room for the shade
Ain't got time for that messy shit, I don't let 'em see (For real?)
What's your man got to do with me?
What's your man got to do with me?
I don't care 'bout your man and your nosy-ass friends (Nosy friends?)
I'ma always fly you places that they never be (Yeah, okay)

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
I was somewhere getting cash, man, ran into this bad thing
Coke-bottle-shapеd ass bustin' out the damn frame (Mmm)
I'm not playing with you, girl, I see you not a damn game
I can tеll you feeling me, the chemistry is off the chain
I told her, "Back it up, them other guys don't got a chance" (Really)
That is when she told me that she got a man
Oh, shit, here we go again
Not tryna step on his toes, just get in where I fit in
I get hella stamina 'cause I been in the gym
I got time today, I last longer than him
Take you out of central, strip you down to your Skims
Say you got a man, you here without him again (For real?)
I'm a man of my word, rules is rules (Rules are rules)
If you snooze, you lose, don't get mad if she choose (I mean)
Got you dicked down, covered in jewels
Let you sip somethin' smooth while you tan by the pool (I kinda like that)
[Chorus: Juicy J]
What's your man got to do with me?
What's your man got to do with me?
Not gon' post you on my page, ain't no room for the shade (Well, I gotta be real)
Ain't got time for that messy shit, I don't let 'em see (I don't have time either, baby)
What's your man got to do with me?

[Bridge: Gangsta Blac]
Early tuesday mornin', on that devil shit, time to hit the track, I got a sack, now where is Triple Six?
Earl—Earl—Early tuesday mornin', on that devil shit, time to hit the track, I got a sack, now where is Triple Six?
Nosy friends?
Early tuesday mornin', on that devil shit, time to hit the track, I got a sack, now where is Triple Six?
Earl—Earl—Early (Yeah, ho) tuesday mornin', on that devil shit, time to hit the track, I got a sack, now where is Triple Six?

[Verse 2: Xavier Wulf]
I'm pullin' in with them custom-spec rims on a ho
I don't argue with you n***as, but I shoot if he approach
I'm in Memphis in the mud, I'm in Cali' on the coast
You don't really ball, n***a, you a rookie, I'm the coach
Told that bitch I'm finna chill, she be tryna do the most
I'm the type of n***a drag 'em cross-town on a rope
You the type of n***a go and lay down when you broke
I'm good at making quick decisions, should I save her? Hell no (Yeah, ho)
Smoking more than most, smoke so much, look like a ghost
I stood on what I said, ain't gon' give a n***a hope
Brand new FN, you can't get this at the store
Dragon Fang Gang, bitch, that's all he need to know