Lyrics:
Killa Klan (8x)
Chorus: Killa Klan Repeated ? North Memphis, South Memphis, ATL, Chicago
(cities differ for each chorus)
[Juicy J]
Late last
Bricks and mortar reflecting social change
Cracks in the pavement reveal cravings for success
Why do we try to hide our past
By pulling down
Ok alright
Hey this song right there
Was off the first album I ever made
It's called Reasonable Doubt
Also was fortunate enough to be
Blessed by
feat. DJ Paul, Lil Chat, Juicy J
* from the forthcoming "Mista Don't Play"
(chorus)
bwok bwok, chicken chicken
bwok bwok, chicken heads (boy
down this road together
And I know that this feels right
And I do believe without you right by my side
But it won't feel the same
So, baby I am gonna
a four
And I smoke cigars, it ain't just for the show
I'm blessed from the do', and known for my stidile
I send a nigga baby mamma home with a smidile
We the best music (another one)
All hail to the queen, Mary J. Blige (Mary J. Blige)
It's so hard to fake when everything I do is real
Money
Me got fire, can't put it out
Heap fire water gonna make me shout
I'm goin' down an-a get my squaw
Me might buy a great big car
I'm gonna do
Y'all can't get with the Mix-A-Lot show
The man you love to hate ain't phased by the fakes
If you want to playa hate
Eat a big 'ole snake
It's
mother thinking that you on some other shit
Oh, what a job this is
As easy as it looks to you, I make it look so easy
With the music I'd be making big
Juicy J
I got this pimpin' straight from
Memphis, I say tell my niggas switch it, go New York to Memphis
Blowin' niggas out
Won by double digits, hatin'
Oil name, and money
And the town said "How did a middle class divorcée do it?"
The wedding was charming, if a little gauche
There's only so far new
got admit that, come on
(Yo Del, what's up with that?) yo
Oh, you want me to do it? Yo!
(I know you can free')
Yo' mic passed, at last
The freaky dog
I can't go down that big road by myself
I can't go down that big road by myself
If I can't carry you, I carry someone else
I asked him, "how
givin' up the nappy dug out
"I got a big old ding-a-ling, and if that bitch can hang
I'm gonna do my thing, with your daughter!"
Givin up the nappy
got it 'cause I spend
You know I'm a rider 'cause I spin
She know she a baddy by them jaws
She gon' make it clap like it's applause
Her legs got a gap
ScY Say say it...you gotta ScY it and get the gold, get the BIG one the big ol' juicy pumpkin patch squash like tomorrow's toast isn't the wrong
through
I never believed in much
But I believed in you
Can we get it together
Can we still stand side by side
Can we make it last
Like a musical
on the fuckin' streets
It's like a madness, fuck making gravy
I rhyme and do crimes, 'cause either way pays me
A little rough with a hardcore theme
Couldn't
hood doin yeah
Those are the rules in this mafia race
Tear da club up thugs mash down on a g-string...
Verse 3
[juicy j]
When we drop
Always keep it
No fatigue
Zilchy baby
Lil Monte on the beat
You got it on repeat
All she wanna do is drink, drink, drink
I got five chains on, them hoes go
neck and do bad things with it!
Well on that note, thank you J (Sure)
For real, what's up with poppin one of those Soloquium pills?
Take your ass
got a little dance he wants to do
He pulls up to a big night club in his UFO
Gets right in with all the folks out on the big dance floor
It really
mother thinking that you on some other shit
Oh, what a job this is
As easy as it looks to you, I make it look so easy
With the music I'd be making big
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