RAL Mafia - Yukmouth, Scarface, 5th Ward Boyz

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

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

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

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

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

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

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, «e 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

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

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 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 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

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

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

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

With our triggers

Snypaz be red dot niggas

We the mafia and yuk sent your picture

So were droppin

Maybe you speakin

Role one

Kill each other, smoke some

Po-pos pass to folks some

Rap-a-lot mafia known from

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:

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

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