[Intro: DJ Paul]
Get down bitch
Get on the mothafucking ground hoe
Hypnotize motherfuckin Camp Posse in yo goddamn house, nigga
Gangsta Boo, Crunchy Black, Lord Infamous, DJ Paul, Juicy J, La Chat
And my new nigga Frayser Boy
Like you thought it'd never happen to you bitch!
[Verse 1: Gangsta Boo]
Hypnotize Camp bitch, step into this mass
Get yo ass fucked up bitch, .44 blast
And you lemons lookin' at me hard
Gangsta B. assassin gonna catch a fuckin murder charge
Fuckin wit' you niggas
Motherfuckas wit that hoe shit
Circulatin gossip 'bout the lady, what's the business bitch
If you really got a problem, then let my niggas know
How you gonna handle that? The wrath of a killer hoe
[Verse 2: Crunchy Black]
Make the wrong move, and bodies get bruised
Talk too much, fool, then I duct-tape you
Act a damn fool and get treated like a fool
What did I do to get stuck in these shoes
Ooooh, the fuck? Oooh!!! When you see me come through
Lock and fuckin' load, when I pop at you
Do the damn thing, nigga do what you do
Ain't no attitude, I'm just being like you
[Verse 3: Frayser Boy]
I'm knockin' down your niggas doors, fuckin all you niggas hoes
Get out the way, I'm throwin' bows, a nigga hurt, don't stop no shows
Straight out the Bay a nigga real, don't try to fake the fuckin deal
All my dogs I know is trill, I'm out here tryna get a meal
Fuckin with that Hypnotize, I can see it in your eyes
It's Frayser Boy, it ain't no lie, you can kiss yo ass goodbye
I've been branded as HCP niggas don't you fuck with me
Just like the Sun bringin' heat run up nigga you gone see, bitch
[Verse 4: Lord Infamous]
BLAY!
Lords the horrid; very morbid
Chainsaw roaring, niggas blood is pouring
Arts of War - I invented the torment
44 gat, all the slugs are soaring
You're the target, hope you can absorb it
My mortuaries got plenty of storage
I got some shit that launch yo ass into orbit
Close the casket, obituary poetry
[Verse 5: DJ Paul]
Now I'ma break it down for ya since you bitches don't know
Just because you signed with Select-O, you ain't a CEO
You gotta sell some records first, that's part of the plan
Let's try to see if you can get more than 20,000 on SoundScan
You wack ass bitches, mane, you playin wit' this cheese
Ya need to get up on eighty Gs and holla at me
That's the discounted price for a Hypnotize beat
On my wall, I got some Golds, and I got some PTs
I bet you knew that bitch
[Verse 6: Juicy J]
I'm from the hood, I ain't no good
With 20 niggas deep, we rollin' Lac wood
You can't faze me, you do amaze me
You say you're on top, so why you hate me
You muggin', you starin', but I ain't carin'
Or is it my watch, the platinum, the carats
But why you wanna do, what grown folks do
Like go to house of Dubs and purchase 22's
[Verse 7: La Chat]
I'm puttin' the city on lock, I'm finna load up them Glocks
I'm gonna blow up ya spot when ya run ya get popped
Loaded strapped up with gats, but you can't kill off a mack
You done fucked up, ya know that, I hope you watchin' yo back
I gave you props, a great bitch, them killers give me yo shit
La Chat gone blow off yo wig, why you keep crossin' yo nig
I hope you're ready for war, I ain't got no time for ya boys
Mayn, I got somethin' in store, ya need to play wit ya whore
I get together the tone, pull up in front of ya home
You betta know that it's on, that woman shoot up ya dome
Since ya wanna be a killer, here's ya chance ya nigga
Let's see, do you got the liver, to pull ya gun and the trigger?
A lot of bitches hate Chat, but I ain't fucked up 'bout dat
Ya wanna get off some anna, shit, ya know where I'm at
But then ya know how I roll, ya bitches know what I'm 'bout
Ain't no discussions 'bout me, I put my foot in yo mouth, bitch