Fuckin Wit Dis Click

(álbum: Mystic Stylez - 1995)

How can you have faith in a God
That cannot even control creation
How can He lead you to salvation
There is no hope in chaos-only
Welcome to the other side of reality
And this is your eternity

[Juicy J:]
The end of the world – I can see it coming
So I pack my nine millimeters and I start hunting
For these niggas that talk shit
Man these hoes will never quit
Until you leave 'em hanging from a tree or thrown in a ditch
Which one of you niggas think you really got them guts
To walk up to his house, knock on his door
Let 'em feel the buck shots of a twelve gauge
Backed up by an A-K
'Fore you go to bed at night you bitches better kneel and pray
Cause when it's business we taking care our business
I'm clapping on any of a witness or any who wanna get in it
Man this shit is real, not them stories you put in your raps
Not even that bullshit you talk behind a nigga back
Let me make it simple and plain: run up and you'll get your brains
Blown to the side of the curb with that plastic thang-thang
Nina Glock nineteen with the twenty clip
You don't wanna fuck with this
You don't wanna fuck with this

Therefore all you cliques
And you clans
And you crews
Fucking, fucking with this clique
And we gon' bring it to your ass

[Koopsta Knicca:]
Man for a petty crime I swear I'll die before I do some time
Bitch the Koopsta massive when I'm bucking with the muthafucking plastic nine
Corpses that we tortured in the shed, their voices won't let me rest
Could this be the end yet or a message sent from Satan?
Nigga omens
They open the gates of horror for them horror Lords
We tortured the cases who arrested the faces of Triple 6 Devil Shyt sorcerers
Kill that bitch, chop that bitch or you might get caught on a crucifix
I'm sick of that burning inside of my cradle I'm wishing that he could just come
Yet, this nina gots no trigger so I'm clicking real quick like a serial killa mon'
Straight from that cell for real'a, I'll buck you dead my nigga
And it's a shame when I dropped'em off the blacklane
In return I got no thangs I went in dark room fool
Koop be jacking for their thang
Every time I sees you slipping I go and grab my Mac-10
Victims of my devil's playground, come burn with me until the end

Therefore all you cliques
And you clans
And you crews
Fucking, fucking with this clique
And we gon' bring it to your ass

[Lord Infamous:]
Toting the dead body over my shoulder into the graveyard with my shovel and pitchfork, look for a nice spot to dig up and I toss in the body and get 'em more muddy as bank o' the shore
Three separate bodies hacked up with a axe and I think a big sack had been chewed up by rats
I'm just writing these poems they bring to renown cuz I drove a steak knife trough their skull
Split wrists with needles in my fists
And amidst', thy cliques of tricks
No I'm not a Christian
But I'm mentally ill and I don't understand all the reasons why I think it's killing season
And neither does my schizophrenic friends
So therefore, nigga, due to my mental difficulty
Scarecrow is only entertained by helping enemies bleed
Let all the bodies soak in all the blood and the smoke cause they came for no pity
I bloody cut chop up they shell goes in 20 gauge fire, they dying like I was Frank Nitti
I'm having no thoughts of the lives I've done lost
When I'm blazing that stupid gauge fire
Cause I'm having a Halloween slaughter in town motherfucker just like Michael Myers
There were mutilations, paralyzations, got no patience
When I'm chasing down a patient trying to thwart assassination

Therefore all you cliques
And you clans
And you crews
Fucking, fucking with this clique
And we gon' bring it to your ass

[DJ Paul:]
I'm on a cross, Lucifer please cut me free (cut me free)
I'll draw your portrait if you pull these nails out of my feet (nails out of my feet)
My cross turns upside down and finally I'm loose
I flipped the land and released the others who sin; the Scarecrow and the Juice
I look to the sky and all I could say was "Well finally it's on again"
No Lord could stop us now cause the demons reborn again
My praise, the first power found me so I could never cower
Without a mind for murder but the bible couldn't tell ya half about this antichrist
Look into my eyes, tell me what you see
The demonic man about scarecrowism, saints can you feel me?
I try for years and years, sinking this one day of depression
Stormy weather and church bells ringing to the election
Of a new follower, follow me into the trees
Watch me rob Adam and watch me rape Eve
In this eve of destruction
Most will probably wonder
With DJ Paul, the Triple Six clique
And Hell take 'em under

[Juicy J:]
Bitch, now never