Verse 1:
[yukmouth]
I live the life of a hooler
Take ten pages
Turn around and shoot em
Concrete budda
We threw em in the creak to loose em
Streets polluted with drugs
Salute em with thugs
We used to
Sleep on a rug
A momma never said she loved
Or hugged us
Its just us, me and my two sisters
Im too whooshes
Plus new bushes
With .22s up in the bushes
We ride, gs
Menace to societies
The real shit
Fuck a movie, the village
We filled with chinese
Essays, niggas, cambodians
Or go against the police
Thugged out like napolean
Grab the milli, from my belly, catch new welly
Slugs in your pelle pelle, smell me
Since makaveli died, its like the westcoast shit died
But rgime be the realest shit alive
Ride or die
So high am i, nigga you cant tell from the eyes
Blood shot red
The feds gettin bread from the pies
Wiseguys cops risk lay-off to stay off the block
Transportin drop the yay off
You paid off the top
Smoke-a-lot popular on the lock
For flippin birds like nadia
Mafia, rap-a-lot mafia
Verse 2:
[willie d of the geto boys]
My nigga, my nigga
Im here to say to
You try to tell it
Can even spell it
Its about respect
For God knows you was talking too
And the slap came
We be the realest motherfuckers in the rapgame
Rap-a-lot mafia, you aint ready for what we got for ya
I make a motherfucker doctor ya
See, it aint all about records
We run the motherfuckin streets in houston, texas
We mobilize and we been rated high
Our adversaries die, when our pull a fry, bullets fly
Like some motherfuckin blackbirds
When we ride
Its caskets and con words
Mob nigga
Verse 3:
[t.l.t of the ghetto twiinz]
Fuck peace
See its all about violence
Put that tek to you silent
Leave you howlin
Ima creep upon ya (yeah)
Ima put it on ya (who)
Drop bombs on ya like they did in oklahoma
[mz. g.b. of the ghetto twiinz]
See ones that nigga yuk, look
Somebody gon die
You could took a try
And kiss that ass goodbye
You be found in your home nigga
Head blown from that chrome
Fuck with me, Im livin wrong nigga
[t.l.t of the ghetto twiinz]
Nigga remember me
Im the one, gon get ya
You better pray that God has switched ya
Fuckin round with the mafia
You torn blood from you bitches
Nigga what
Bustin holes in you bitches
[mz. g.b. of the ghetto twiinz]
You better wear you vest, real tight bitch
The mafia gonna put it in you life bitch
Aint no motherfucker stoppin up
The only bitch puttin it down with the mafia
Rap-a-lot mafia
Verse 4:
[dmg of facemob]
Niggas sure wonder why I hang with these thugs
Cause my nigga yuk fuckin these niggas up
Nigga, this rap-a-lot, mafia till I die
Why? because we ride
Everyday do or die
Riffles and .45s
17-shot 9s
Right up between your eyes
Niggas is gon die
Niggas come from the pound
Hummers and s-ss
Born to be a killer
Fill a nigga
Body with holes
Head the toe when he showed up
Blow up your whole motherfuckin head, quote us
And ima roll, with my niggas till the wheels fall
Clean up the motherfuckin car
And in this room we bring the world war
Verse 5:
[007 of the 5th ward boyz]
See the circlepiece be the satellite
>from the 5th ward
Command union, how we do it, how we do it
>from the south
Texas roll real, swing wide knock em out
Double "0" and yuk worldwide what you talkin about
See the .45s, see the big faces
Catchin murder cases, hood erasers
Paper chasers
With the 98, sittin on steakes
Ballin in the bay with the tek to place
Verse 6:
[e-rock of the 5th ward boyz]
Recognize the mob bitch
All day this thug shit
Blisted up, trigger fingers for niggas that start shit
Creep this as I part quick
Ride dopefiend, will her with a tint
Aks and vests
Born in california, killed down in texas
Ohoh, slow your roll here come the po-pos
Anything can happen ridin through execution capital
E-rock the stupid fo, whos ridin with this nigga yuk
We the mafia, squabble the gun
Played out, droppin ya
Verse 7:
[lo-life of the 5th ward boyz]
We mob figgers
We to take the whole world out
At 50 states all black god
After that, we still gon grind on the side
To make your motherfuckers mind
I pop the 9, you pop the 9
And all yall motherfuckers dyin
We gon drive by
We walk up and do these niggas out the game
We sell 2 shot, and none left in the chain
Cause its rap-a-lot mafia man
Is to be fuckin with man
Watch who you talk to
We kill
If thats what its brought down to
Verse 8:
[capone of facemob]
Off with his motherfuckin head with the lead
Dead leave his hilfiger shirt all real
Said its motherfucker locked in your spot
Shots will be dropped, right here, right now
Paw, niggas all the way tugged down
Town
Ride around town showin out
Pounds
City after city fuckin hoes
Yours aint a lot act like you know
Capone with the city complete assassinater
With paper, blow up a nigga shit like sky pagers
Its major, save a whole out of not
Stop, if you think your feelin fin popped
Rap-a-lot cant stop, wont, dont stop
And we did already hit the top
Rap-a-lot cant stop, wont, dont stop
And we did already hit the top
Mob
Verse 9:
[lil chylla of the snypaz]
I be comin through rages
And niggas thinkin I pissed off
Im itchin to get my sick off
I be trickin them if they trick off
All hands about to get kicked off
[2-4 of the snypaz]
Nigga I got em
Fuck up your body when the slugs touch down
Runnin up on me you feel it
The realest and platinum bound
With the nigga called yuk
We brakin bed and ballin
Feds hollin
Bloody bodies with no heads
And calling your momma nigga
[lil chylla of the snypaz]
Yo, who the mob, feel her
Rap-a-lot nigga
Kick that john quicker
I missed the bomb disher
Flat the palms
Money is in my figures
[2-4 of the snypaz]
With our triggers
Snypaz be red dot niggas
We the mafia and yuk sent your picture
So were droppin
[lil chylla of the snypaz]
Maybe you speakin
Role one
Kill each other, smoke some
Po-pos pass to folks some
Rap-a-lot mafia known from
Verse 10:
[? ? ]
We puts limits on niggas
We hold money over bitches
Let the whole world recognize the realest
When its bangin rap-a-lot mafia
The streets most popular
Servin your hood like helicopters
Say the wrong thing and Ill slaughter ya
Disrespect the mob, young catch punkin heads
Wishin you was dead
Layin in bed the next
Nigga what did I say
To make these niggas act this way
Rich thugs still got me muggs
Just to remind a motherfucker, about where I was
Nothin but love from my thugs
Get your paper cause
We laugh and drink when we rich, black and know this spore
Nigga this rap-a-lot mafia
Interlude:
[j prince]
You aint gotta come from cranestreet
200 or circlepiece
Its all about do you believe
Rap-a-lot mafia life
Rap-a-lot on the streets
Verse 11:
[scarface of the geto boys]
Recognize the mob or get you ass mobbed on
No love to ones who oppose
We taggin motherfuckers toes
And we aint even got a dresscode
Just those, 1000 niggas infront of expos
Waitin on the next goes
So lets roll and lets go
Aint no sissy niggas survivin
If you dont come with them you got a problem
Solve em, hit em with the .44 revolver
Make an amount of what believe is right before his daughter
Exactly like the doctor ordered
Dressin your homies up in church clothes
You took the shot, that brought the black hoe
And thats cold, but thats the motherfuckin thing
Respect the mob and little j and the family name
