Released on February 1, 1998

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[Intro: DJ Paul]

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E

[Chorus: DJ Paul & Queen]

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my crown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson-Manson Family bound, I'm gon', Manson Family bound, I'm gon')

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my crown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson Family bound, I'm gon', Manson Family bound, I'm gon')

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my crown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson-Manson Family bound, I'm gon', Manson Family bound, I'm gon')


[Verse 1: Yung Koke]

Now how can ya hang, and run ya mouth

Motherfucker don’t know what you talkin’ ‘bout

Salute to my troops, cold murderers

Smokin’ blunts and the chronic, nigga, I’ll pass out

No love, when motivated, .38 slugs when demonstrated

Manson style, get crunk and wild

Nothin’-ass niggas steady player hate

Tra-8 wanna be like me, wanna rap like me

And havе everything that I got

Make a call—yo block gеt hot

My nigga Suave got the 18 shots

Break ‘em down like a motherfucking clown

Grab his ass by his motherfucking neck

Choke his ass if he got some ana’

Jack’ll go and get the goddamn TEC

It’s plain and simple, put one up to his temple

Nigga’s ain’t to nimble, damn near left him critical

We comin’ out blastin’, comin’ out mashin’

Talkin’ ‘bout, a Manson assassin

Run yo' mouth, we give you one chance and watch you shit in yo' motherfucking pants’s

No studio in me - whore shit, bring it on, you son of a bitch

Unneeded boy named Weedie, we gon’ hide yo' ass, triiick


[Verse 2: Lil Jack]

Every motherfucker sayin’ one word, Mossberg

How the fuck she wrote, motherfuck you hoes

Bitch, you wish you could fuck with these Manson niggas

Just wanna be buck with these Manson niggas

Killers, cocked back triggers, nine millimeters, mean-muggin’ yo' whole motherfucking clique

I got niggas down South, n' up motherfuckin' North that’ll die for this goddamn shit

These crazy-ass niggas that slip in the mask, M.A.N.S.O.N. thick on your ass

No studio in me, nigga, how the fuck you figure, these niggas won't ride on yo' ass with a blast?

Blast, fuck off who I click, funked out with yo' ass inside a bitch

You gon' player hate, we gon' demonstrate

With that chrome fourteen in your motherfucking face

[Chorus: DJ Paul & Queen]

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my frown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson-Manson Family bound, I'm gon', Manson Family bound, I'm gon')

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my frown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson Family bound, I'm gon', Manson Family bound, I'm gon')

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit (Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my frown)

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E (Manson-Manson Family bound, I'm gon' clown, 'bout my frown)

[Verse 3: Jon Doe, Lil Jack]

Ana' got me scopin' a hoe, I'm hearin' we got lil' [?], Damn, said it before

Locos in a [?] with the blow, rollin', maintainin', 'caine drainin' Jon Doe, hoe

Sacrifice your fucking body, and leave you in my trunk

Got you wishing, that you never test this clique, bitch, time to weed out you weak-ass punks

In the trunk with the Red Dog, balled off, hauled off

Straight to the room with the rest of the yo' boys

Blast with this TEC, with this beam on yo' chest

And you see niggas running from the automatic toys

Better duck from the blast, cover yo' ass, [?] traiting, hoes be hating

Fakin', shakin' (Niggas can't fade it, left in the dust, Manson style, baby)

J to the A, to the C to the K

Drunk in the junt, still smellin' like vodka

M.A.N.S.O.N. Family, bitch, you niggas can't stop us

We got that mob-type shit, so bring yo' pistols, bitch

No matter whatever you do, player hatin' niggas never wanna see a motherfucker on roof (Just face it, bitch)

Nigga had to leave Funkytown for a while

When we get crunk, we finna killed yo' ass

We finna diss yo' ass, bullet dead in yo' ass

We'll get on it and *gunshots*

We blast

[Bridge: DJ Paul, Queen]

You got bullshit rappers, bullshit DJ, and some mo' shit

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E

You got bullshit rappers

You got bullshit rappers (Manson-Manson Family bound, I'm gon'- Manson Family bound I'm gon')

I'm hearing hoe shit on your T-A-P-E

[Outro: Lil Jack, Yung Koke, Jon Doe]

Yeah, this shit dedicated to that weak-ass boy

You know what I'm sayin'

Talking 'bout that hoe-ass shit nigga on his tapes

Fakin' like that shit is stoled, they wanna be Manson, you fat bitch

Motherfucker, you never smoked a pound in your life, hoe-ass nigga

You talk that shit, I'ma smack the shit out yo' punk-ass, nigga

Weak-ass, punk-ass, jelly-ass faggot, listen nigga

You can't rap! You got no niggas that could rap with

Weedie talkin' 'bout niggas try to rob you?

It's Manson

Jon Doe