(DJ Voice)
Yo, right here your non-stop party block! I'm your host 
DJ
(::gunshots::)

(Mr. Heart)
Who the fuck ain't bumpin the Villainz, You gotta die
On the club and the radio, We bout to ride,
On you fake ass DJ's Who wanna hate
Mr. Club get your tables, I grab the crates
We shot the whole mothafuckin party up
Tryin to hit the DJ But we kinda drunk
But we the hardest, And yall scared like a bitch
Every minute, every hour, play the same old shit
you betta bump this shit, Hey, fuck that dance
Bullets make you lean back, and shit in your pants
Pop Music? How about Shot Music?
Get a real DJ before I loose it
Soopa Villain Radio everyday
What the Fuck Did he Say? And what he gon play?
No Fuck that! (FUCK THAT!) We gotta burn this bitch 
down
Dead DJ's Bleedin all over the Ground

(Chorus x2)
I shot the DJ. Everyone seen me!
I shot the DJ. And I'ma forty four the top forty!

(Mr. Diamond)
So Much blood on the tables, they won't work anymore
They try to sell em to the pawn store
Another dead DJ Shot in the club
Before the killer ran off, he cut his hands off
Hot Jams 103, DJ found dead
They took a record crate and smashed his head
into a goulash, and then they dissapeared
(SOUNDS LIKE THE SOOPA VILLAINZ WAS THERE!)
In a fleet of limousines, It's Mr Diamond
Here to poison the world and commercial rhymin
I bloody Diamond cut bullets, in my murder rampage
Mr Club, scratches and cuts, DJs necks open
They run off, bloody and chokin
Then I blast a hole in they back, big as a basketball
then turn around and blast his jaw

(Chorus x2)
I shot the DJ. Everyone seen me!
I shot the DJ. And I'ma forty four the top forty!

(Mr. Spade)
Time for a killin, The DJ ain't play no Soopa Villainz
So I'm about to hurt his motha fuckin feelins
Gay bashin, Party crashin, Gangsta Fashion
I didn't like what he was playin So I blast em
Party over here, it's a body over there
On the wheels of steel, blood's everywhere
Say What? Who's that Mr Club?
Mr Spade snuck into the party with a snub
As I commence, To cause alot of casualities
on radio, DJ personalities
Home of hip hop and R and B Home invasion
Fuck that, I'm blowin up the radio station
Fully automatic til they play nothin but static
Flashback, every time you see a turntable panic
Fuck that, play my new shit, the crew shit, the true 
shit
or get you brains blew bitch

(Chorus x2)
I shot the DJ. Everyone seen me!
I shot the DJ. And I'ma forty four the top forty!

(Bang Bang! Bang Bang!)
Everyone seen me!

(Bang Bang! Bang Bang!)
And I'ma forty four the top forty!

(Bang Bang! Bang Bang!)
Everyone seen me!

(Bang Bang! Bang Bang!)
And I'ma forty four the top forty!