Left’em DeadCrunchy Black

[Intro: Crunchy Black & DJ Paul]
Damn man a nigga pocket fucked up in this mother fucker
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! that's fucked up
A nigga need to find out how we go get some
Dead presidents or something man
You know what I'm sayin a nigga
Got to get straight around this mother fucker
Niggas got that mutha fuckin shit, don't wanna share it
Niggas we know you tight, mutha fucker you need to share that shit
Before a nigga break you off something
(Prophet mutha fuckin Entertainment)
You know what I'm saying, You know what I mean, a nigga go break you off
You need to share that shit, Motherfuckers fucked up round here
We go take care of that, something go have to get straight
Or something go have to go mother fucking sour nigga!
You know what I mean
A mother fucker go have to handle ya mother fucking ass
Nigga share that shit, A niggs know you on, A nigga know you tight
You better take care of ya boys dog
You know what I mean, A nigga go handle ya mutha fucking ass
With the mother fucking seriousness! BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Verse 1: Crunchy Black]
It's Crunchy Black the demon child, another mystery made
Another stang, Boo set up another nigga in his grave
I'm constantly scopin out you niggas with that bible shit
You thank I'm straight, bitch I ain't straight
I'm out to get your shit
My Smith & Wesson teaches lessons for you hard head ho's
To drop off you want feel pain unless you don't do as told
But if you got ya fuckin pistols and ya thank ya beat
The 3-6 mafia
Nigga try ya luck and we'll see

[Verse 2: Scan Man]
Mr. World-wide-panic
So watch the Scan Man get his automatic
Then get crazy like a criminal because
These niggas don't know nothing bout me
Watch ya self When you stack ya wealth
Keep that shit between ya self
Cause these killas from the Prophet Posse
Go use 2 niggas to make ya death
Cause we crazed
With the rage
Having a urge that can't be replaced
Out of the leaves, seen all them trees
Then I leave with ya cheese
Now prepare for the world to turn over
Cause Prophet Posse niggas just have tookin over!!!

[Hook: Project Pat]
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead

[Verse 3: Crunchy Black & Project Pat]
Man I'm gettin tired of all you playa hatin bitches
Playa hatin on this game, you see a nigga out to getcha
You see I heard from ya ho's you was flodgin bout ya riches
So I had to hit the Klan tell we had to come and getcha
So I told them I'll hit them back
So I can go get some facts
Scopin out this nigga shack
Making sure that shit is fat
Then I hit Lil Scan and Pat
Told em that that shit was fat
Then my nigga Project said:
"When we go get this bitch"

[Verse 4: Scan Man]
Go to War
Crunchy and Scan
Drop them bodies off to the shore
There's no more
In this bitch
Trying to get buck with this click
I'm insane in the brain
Got me throwing bodies off the train
Acid rain from the sky
Wash the remains down the drain
In your yard, after dark
It's them niggas who like to rob
In ya face with no trace
You go vanish from this place
No one cries
Could you die
Scan man dares to wipe there eyes
Lullabyes
A hear the tomb
So ya click is not to soon

[Hook: Project Pat]
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya shit and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle bitch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead