Released: October 31, 2000

Featuring: Driveby Three 6 Mafia

Songwriter: Eastside Ninjas DJ Paul Juicy J Gangsta Boo Lord Infamous Fritz “The Cat” Vankosky

Producer: Systasyrosis Soundsquad

[Intro: Monoxide]
Psychopathic
Twiztid and Blaze running with a motherfucking hatchet
And only the Three-6 could match it
So uh, tell me where it's at

[Hook: amie Madrox]
Now where it's going down?
Now where it's at home boy?
(What? What, what?!?)
Now where it's going down?
Now where it's at home boy?
(What? What, what?!?)

[Verse 1: Jamie Madrox]
I ain't the type to ask questions
I'm the type of motherfucker ready to trip
On anyone or anything all for the fuck of it
We be the underground, we stay beneath
And suffocate hoes like you while y'all asleep
Now where it's going down, right here, right now
And everybody on the North, East, West and South
Y'all better get it up, y'all better represent this shit
Twiztid, Triple-6 and Blaze, you can't fuck with it

[Verse 2: Juicy J]
You know I ride with the tokah
Quick to make your brain pop
Memphis, Tenny, rollin' dirty
Police and a road block
Niggas have to swallow drugs
Niggas have to fake they mug
Niggas put they seat belt on
Cut on the fucking cellular-phone
On the top, we mob like Gotti
Sippin' on subjects, havin' a party
If you wanna cross the Three-6
Seperate your soul from body
Wrap your mouth with duct tape nigga
We ain't gonna hope you figure
Where the cats done hid the stash
Or I'll have to pull this trigga

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Blaze]
Now where it's at? (drive-by!)
Motherfuckers claiming to be thugs
Can't see me on shit
Wit' chop and bananna clips
I been dead, been back (it's like that)
Ridin' dirty wit' a birdie
And a throw-away in the hatchback (whooo!)
Bitch, where ya black-sack?
By any means trying to elevate
Never underestimate the contact (don't do it!)
I put jail on the map
Twiztid, Triple 6, and Blaze
Go and ask them where it's at

[Verse 4: Gangsta Boo]
I took a xanex
Yo, I like to split bitches' wigs
Split them to the white, fuckin' kidnap ya kids
Take that niggas wife, psych, lock you in the trunk
Get so fuckin' pumped, nigga, Gangsta Boo is crunk
What you niggas know about them Calicoes and Glocks?
Shit that go pop, nigga, burnin' up ya block
Fuck the fuckin' cops, call 'em, I don't give a fuck
Leave you in the mud, motherfucker, nigga what?

[Hook]

[Verse 5: DJ Paul]
Play me ghetto on a nigga comin straight
Were back were back...hey
Fuckin' up the third word, can't get can't get sprayed
Niggas eyes wide shut
They never see me comin' into the back
But aces is just when I'm gunnin'
Jiggy jiggy jack jack will be rollin' mad car
Haters got me on scoop but they can't get me that far
You gotta try and gotta run or try to head with starts
Fuckin' nigga be most fuckin' niggas be my heart, ho

[Verse 6: Monoxide]
Whatchu lookin' at?
I can call it from here
Been underground wit' the dirt in my eyes for many years
Do the math motherfucker
You can't see the mix
We don't die, we multiply wit' the Triple-6
Merciless, territory worldwide
Ridin' down your bitch-ass block, bumpin' Drive-By
Blowin' up your High Rise
We leave you trapped in the rubble
Fuckin' wit' us is just trouble

[Hook]

[Verse 7: Lord Infamous]
Gotta get it ghetto, drop the flower petal
Pop the pistol metal, Rip one wit' me
Drop 'em in the meadow, fuckin' wit' the devil
Cold, but they call me Lord
Coked out, very paranoid
Orgys in the morn
When Three-6 is on the vocal chord
Marijuana scorched, like a torch
Full of intercourse
You will feel the force
When the Triple-6 is on the swarm
You don't wanna play in hell
Infamous, I'm droppin' shells
Tie you to the rail
Bitch, I'll help you make that fuckin' smell

[Verse 8: Anybody Killa]
From a gangstas point of veiw
I'm asking you, how does it feel?
To have the will to grab the steal
And shoot until you kill
Anybody Killa's feelin' twisted wit' the Three-6
Drive-By, finger on the trigger, I'm addicted
Where's it goin' down?
I guess right here, so where ya at?
Runnin' wit' a hatchet, Phantoms floatin' in the back
We put it down for the psycho motherfuckers all around
Bumpin' underground, everytime we seem to be in town

[Hook x2]

Twiztid

The TWIZTID tale is gritty and fascinating folklore, built on self-determination, fearless creativity, and the elimination of the boundaries between artist and audience. The dedicated supporters who stand with co-conspirators Jamie Madrox and Monoxide are more than they are family.

There’s a rogue’s gallery of hooks, rhythms, and riffs in the TWIZTID bag of tricks. For 25 years, they’ve concocted artistic anarchy rooted in the streetwise storytelling sophistication of hip-hop, trance-inducing hypnotic beats, and the seething bite of hard rock rage. Merging horror movies, comics, and a level of depravity and violence rivaling the grimiest of pulp fiction in the annals of Americana, TWIZTID is the reflection of a tightly knit subculture and the sound of unbridled id.

With over a dozen entries on the Billboard charts, TWIZTID built themselves into an institution, without the help of mainstream gatekeepers at MTV, traditional radio, or major press. They’ve brought their adrenaline-soaked, unbound artistic mania on the road, with metalcore acts like Motionless In White and on the Vans Warped Tour, all without forsaking the worldwide family. TWIZTID built the connection they maintain with their fiercely dedicated legion of supporters to last and to evolve. Everything Majik Ninja does harken back to that original impulse shared by Monoxide and Jamie to make art that swings a big ax at the boundary between audience and artist.

From the album