Hahaha
 1998
 Three 6 Mafia
 Hooked up with the motherfuckin' Dayton Family
 Are ya'll ready for us
 Bring the pain
 Bitch ya'll ain't ready for us
 Miphia style
 Flip Time
 98
 Rollin' like dees
 Smoke the trees bitch

 Chorus x2
 We mafia  is it too much (We mafia mafia mafia ya)
 Are you ready for us (We mafai mafia mafia ya)

 Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000

 (Scarecrow)
 Mixtures of sin and gin on sight
 Cut the wings off an angel
 On both sides
 I'm suin'
 Huntin'
 All them suckas
 State your last name first
 Meyers, Michael
 Lord is killin'
 Three 6 killin'
 What else will I say
 Even children
 Probably don't give a fuck if you are naughty or nice
 At night
 Sacrifice
 Good bye, lights out

 (Juicy J)
 Can you feel me
 Can you hear me
 Did you pick the scene
 A lot of fools done fucked around town
 Showed up in your dreams
 Standin' in a hideaway
 Inferred, them guns spray
 Gotcha shakin'
 Gotcha nervous
 Knowin' not how to get away
 Lookin' out the window pane
 Cause all your gonna feel is pain
 In your yard I see a tree
 I also see your body hang
 See the phone
 Pick it up
 The wire that is only cut
 I meant to pray
 Your still gonna die
 Too late bitch
 Your time is up

 Chorus x4

 (Dayton Family)
 What the fuck you wanna do
 Be a victim of my homicide
 If you try to jack
 I'll leave you dead head in the g ride
 And creep up out my vehicle
 And continue my jack move
 Still gat under the dirt
 Now put it up in your hand
 Now ain't that smooth
 Motherfucker
 Snooze motherfucker
 Move motherfucker
 Loose motherfucker
 Put your face down to the floor
 And don't you take a look up
 I heard about what you cook up
 See bitch this is a stick up
 I'm takin' you off your tippy toes
 Take your cheese
 And fuck your hoes
 Givin' you crack sacks, macks back in your Cadillacs
 Drop glock in my draws
 Extra clip up under my balls
 My dick's like a 44
 Fuckin' up your pussy wall
 You ran your lip about your grip
 And I'm takin' in on the stash box
 Your pockets are swoll hoe
 And I'm lookin' for a jackpot
 I wear a mask on my face
 So I won't catch a case
 Keepin' it low key
 Don't nobody know me
 I'm just like a snake
 When I creep through your window
 So motherfuck the cops
 Cold hard on me kin though
 So motherfuck the 5-0
 It's all about survival
 I leave them like d-o-a
 Bitch that's dead on arrival

 Chorus x4

 Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000

 (DJ Paul)
 Give'em two
 To the head
 Three to the neck
 And the other fuckin' tip
 Too his motherfuckin' chest
 Gotta buck him down
 Gotta buck him down town
 Talkin' bout' these clowns
 Talkin' shit up in my fuckin' town
 Since he ain't dead yet
 Check his head
 Check his chest
 Playa should have guessed
 He was strapped with a fuckin' vest
 Hoe you should have known
 You was fuckin' with the Triple 6
 We bust
 I knew you wasn't ready for us

 (Gangsta Boo)
 Am I too much
 To avoid, can't you fuck with us
 In the Lexus truck with Juicy J
 Getting fucked up
 Tearin' the club up
 What be bumpin' on the radio
 Mafia is what I'm screamin'
 Till the day I die hoe
 More game for the lame
 Educate them bitches man
 Stay in focus
 Hocus pocus
 Tryin' my best to maintain
 High as the sky
 Is why it's my business bitch
 Open up your own fuckin' account
 And get up out my shit

 Chorus x4

 Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000

 (Crunchy Blac)
 6 bitch
 So don't you fuck with this click
 Cause if you fuck with this click
 You'll get a little of this (gun shots)
 You must don't know who you fuckin' with bitch
 Cause we leavin' bodies in body bags
 Drop em' off in a ditch
 Know I mean kid
 know I mean kid, huh
 See we come from
 A natural bomb
 A natural gun
 A natural gimme some
 Don't make me make your body numb trick
 And have you hollerin' out mafia mafia mafia mafia

 (Koopsta Knicca)
 Stick em' dead
 Kill em' dead
 Rush them tricks on down to the flo'
 With north Memphis convicts
 Bithces call me Koopsta hoe
 Fuck me once never twice
 Wrapped up on that game of dice
 How can I lie
 When at nine hundred times
 You said you was a man of the house
 I don't really done it
 Koop you hung around that nigga man
 Try so hard to be a soldier bitch
 But come out to be dealt with trick
 I'm sick in the head
 Better call Fred
 Dirty red
 Yeah, yeah you gon' look
 Too late fuckin' fool
 Cause you drownin' in your poo poo