[Yukmouth]
 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
 It's just us, me and my two sisters
 I'm too whooshes
 Plus new bushes
 With .22's up in the bushes
 We ride, G's
 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, it's like the Westcoast shit died
 But R?gime be the realest shit alive
 Ride or die
 So high am I, Nigga you can't 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

 Verse 2:
 [Willie D of the Geto Boys]
 My Nigga, my Nigga
 I'm here to say to
 You try to tell it
 Can even spell it
 It's 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 ain't ready for what we got for ya
 I make a motherfucker doctor ya
 See, it ain't 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
 It's caskets and con words
 Mob Nigga

 Verse 3:
 [T.L.T of the Ghetto Twiinz]
 Fuck peace
 See it's all about violence
 Put that Tek to you silent
 Leave you howlin
 I'ma creep upon ya (Yeah)
 I'ma put it on ya (Who)
 Drop bombs on ya like they did in Oklahoma

 [Mz. G.B. of the Ghetto Twiinz]
 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, I'm livin' wrong Nigga

 [T.L.T of the Ghetto Twiinz]
 Nigga remember me
 I'm 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

 [Mz. G.B. of the Ghetto Twiinz]
 You better wear you vest, real tight bitch
 The Mafia gonna put it in you life bitch
 Ain't no motherfucker stoppin' up
 The only bitch puttin' it down with the Mafia
 Rap-A-Lot Mafia

 Verse 4:
 [DMG of FaceMob]
 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 .45's
 17-shot 9's
 Right up between your eyes
 Niggas is gon die
 Niggas come from the pound
 Hummers and S-S's
 Born to be a killer
 Fill a Nigga
 Body with holes
 Head the toe when he showed up
 Blow up your whole motherfuckin' head, quote us
 And I'ma roll, with my Niggas till the wheels fall
 Clean up the motherfuckin' car
 And in this room we bring the world war

 Verse 5:
 [007 of the 5th Ward Boyz]
 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 .45's, 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

 Verse 6:
 [E-Rock of the 5th Ward Boyz]
 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
 AK's and vest's
 Born in California, killed down in Texas
 Ohoh, slow your roll here come the po-po's
 Anything can happen ridin' through execution capital
 E-Rock the stupid fo', who's ridin' with this Nigga Yuk
 We the Mafia, squabble the gun
 Played out, droppin' ya

 Verse 7:
 [Lo-Life of the 5th Ward Boyz]
 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 y'all 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 it's Rap-A-Lot Mafia man
 Is to be fuckin' with man
 Watch who you talk to
 We kill
 If that's what it's brought down to

 Verse 8:
 [Capone of FaceMob]
 Off with his motherfuckin' head with the lead
 Dead leave his Hilfiger shirt all real
 Said it's motherfucker locked in your spot
 Shot's 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 ain't a lot act like you know
 Capone with the city complete assassinater
 With paper, blow up a Nigga shit like sky pagers
 It's major, save a whole out of not
 Stop, if you think your feelin' fin popped
 Rap-A-Lot can't stop, won't, don't stop
 And we did already hit the top
 Rap-A-Lot can't stop, won't, don't stop
 And we did already hit the top
 Mob

 Verse 9:
 [Lil' Chylla of the Snypaz]
 I be comin' through rages
 And Niggas thinkin' I pissed off
 I'm itchin' to get my sick off
 I be trickin' them if they trick off
 All hands about to get kicked off

 [2-4 of the Snypaz]
 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

 [Lil' Chylla of the Snypaz]
 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

 [2-4 of the Snypaz]
 With our triggers
 Snypaz be red dot Niggas
 We the Mafia and Yuk sent your picture
 So we're droppin'

 [Lil' Chylla of the Snypaz]
 Maybe you speakin'
 Role one
 Kill each other, smoke some
 Po-po's pass to folks some
 Rap-A-Lot Mafia known from

 Verse 10:
 [??]
 We put's limits on Niggas
 We hold money over bitches
 Let the whole world recognize the realest
 When it's bangin' Rap-A-Lot Mafia
 The street's most popular
 Servin' your hood like helicopters
 Say the wrong thing and I'll 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:
 [J Prince]
 You ain't gotta come from Cranestreet
 200 or Circlepiece
 It's all about do you believe
 Rap-A-Lot Mafia life
 Rap-A-Lot on the streets

 Verse 11:
 [Scarface of the Geto Boys]
 Recognize the Mob or get you ass mobbed on
 No love to ones who oppose
 We taggin' motherfuckers toes
 And we ain't even got a dresscode
 Just those, 1000 Niggas infront of Expo's
 Waitin' on the next goes
 So lets roll and lets go
 Ain't no sissy Niggas survivin'
 If you don't 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 that's cold, but that's the motherfuckin' thing
 Respect the Mob and Little J and the family name