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

It's just us, me and my two sisters

I'm too whooshes

Plus new bushes

With .22's up in the bushes

We ride, G's

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, it's like the Westcoast shit died

But Régime be the realest shit alive

Ride or die

So high am I, Nigga you can't 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

I'm here to say to

You try to tell it

Can even spell it

It's 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 ain't ready for what we got for ya

I make a motherfucker doctor ya

See, it ain't 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

It's caskets and con words

Mob Nigga



Verse 3:

[T.L.T of the Ghetto Twiinz]

Fuck peace

See it's all about violence

Put that Tek to you silent

Leave you howlin

I'ma creep upon ya (Yeah)

I'ma 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, I'm livin' wrong Nigga



[T.L.T of the Ghetto Twiinz]

Nigga remember me

I'm 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

Ain't 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 .45's

17-shot 9's

Right up between your eyes

Niggas is gon die

Niggas come from the pound

Hummers and S-S's

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 I'ma 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 .45's, 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

AK's and vest's

Born in California, killed down in Texas

Ohoh, slow your roll here come the po-po's

Anything can happen ridin' through execution capital

E-Rock the stupid fo', who's 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 y'all 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 it's Rap-A-Lot Mafia man

Is to be fuckin' with man

Watch who you talk to

We kill

If that's what it's brought down to



Verse 8:

[Capone of FaceMob]

Off with his motherfuckin' head with the lead

Dead leave his Hilfiger shirt all real

Said it's motherfucker locked in your spot

Shot's 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 ain't a lot act like you know

Capone with the city complete assassinater

With paper, blow up a Nigga shit like sky pagers

It's major, save a whole out of not

Stop, if you think your feelin' fin popped

Rap-A-Lot can't stop, won't, don't stop

And we did already hit the top

Rap-A-Lot can't stop, won't, don't 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

I'm 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 we're droppin'



[Lil' Chylla of the Snypaz]

Maybe you speakin'

Role one

Kill each other, smoke some

Po-po's pass to folks some

Rap-A-Lot Mafia known from



Verse 10:

[??]

We put's limits on Niggas

We hold money over bitches

Let the whole world recognize the realest

When it's bangin' Rap-A-Lot Mafia

The street's most popular

Servin' your hood like helicopters

Say the wrong thing and I'll 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 ain't gotta come from Cranestreet

200 or Circlepiece

It's 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 ain't even got a dresscode

Just those, 1000 Niggas infront of Expo's

Waitin' on the next goes

So lets roll and lets go

Ain't no sissy Niggas survivin'

If you don't 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 that's cold, but that's the motherfuckin' thing

Respect the Mob and Little J and the family name