I Ain't Cha Friend

[Intro: DJ Paul] *Laughter* Yeah, y'all thought that underground shit wouldn't gon' work, didn't ya? Yeah.... For the wages of sin is death For the gift of god is eternal life Through Jesus Christ our lord Roman 6-23 nigga, read it and weep, biatch! *Laughter* [Verse 1: Koopsta Knicca] Hitman bustin' up in my door, so I grab my .44 Now them bustas on the floor, covered up by pillows Oh no, I'm lookin' for them trizzicks, tryin' to put Koop in they clizzick I'm comin' up quick, I'm takin' no shots, bustin' these caps off in these bitches So why you wanna mess with this? So why you wanna take off this piece? Fool, I'm bad to the bone, jone, chrome tech, come now, follow me to the fatality You'll be dead, I'll be glad, when I make you hit that grass I ain't showin' no mercy, goddamn it, I'm blastin' that ass I'm havin' visions of flesh, baby, they people like that roozer tech That mess in my head, it the constantly changing this evil shit You hear some laughin', who's that in yo' window gaspin'? Now if you feel me tell me who's that creepin' for your head, mane? [Verse 2: Gangsta Boo] This goes out to all of you suckas Includin' you crossers, includin' you bustas This shit is so fucked up, I can't even trust ya This lady is tired of you motherfuckers I'm bumpin' so hard, it's like oh my God Gangsta Boo is rippin' the mic all apart If your ass wasn't so full of that fart Never would you have tested me from the start I'm trying to tell you hoe, let me tell you bitch, you ain't my fuckin' friend Prophet Entertainment member known as Boo, had to tell your ass time and time again Ride with my click, bitch Triple 6 is all I need Plus my weed and the N-I-N-E to keep you frilly hoes off of me Come into my face with that pimpin' ass shit Watch you see this gangsta bitch get scandalous You friendly ass hoes, I scratch off my list I don't need you, don't want you bitch [Verse 3: Crunchy Black] Friends like foes in these hoes keep on talkin' all that shit Actin' like they bad as fuck, but they ain' really talkin' 'bout shit Keep on dissin' this clique and we gonna hurt one of you tricks Put your body in a ditch or dig a grave for that shit Don't you ask who like it, Crunchy Black did it bitch Keep on talkin' all that noise and I'ma get big like big business [Chorus: Lord Infamous & Koopsta Knicca] I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) [Verse 4: DJ Paul] Smiles can be deceivin', even if it's your friends And hoes that know we can't be even Steven Should not believe in, too late, once the truth unfolds You already got my Glock to the back of your head Prayers already said, done, consider yourself dead Your family and friends might be sayin' that I crossed you out But nigga, you was fake from the beginning, so I had to toss you out Friend I'm no more, I kill all you foes, step in my trunk, once again on a stroll Forty mag to yo' back, the hammer release and leave your chest with holes All in the club with that buck ass shit You want the mic? Then I'ma slap you with the mic, bitch You couldn't rock it with a test tube and a pot, it's kind of hard You can't beat us and you can't join us, 'cause we ain't gonna stop if you don't stop [Verse 5: Lord Infamous] Summon superior astronomical beings from that of my mystical dreams Of the menacing, mighty, manipulative Merciless, multiple murderers, imagine dangerous hittin' the strip' and a critical injury Misery, seriously, witness the tremoring, tragedy, agony, infamy, agony, brutal mentality Assassin team, my voodoo tribe, if he wants to be fried, put on a friendly disguise Lord Infamous takin' no prisoners, forget the begging, pleading, and the cries Your reservation revelation, a satanic nation has been prophesied I can look in your eyes and tell that there is fear from the eternal burning of each of your lies Flights of headlights, black clothes, and limos Another negro startin' to decompose On his casket, the Scarecrow shall place him a lovely black rose Who knows the hate that goes behind closed doors With corpses froze in six-foot holes Wicked souls, evil flows, and torturing of foes [Chorus: Lord Infamous] I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) I have to tell these niggas time and time again (Now take 'em corpses) Bitch, I ain't your fuckin' friend, I'll do your ass in (Put 'em bodybags in a morgue) [Outro: DJ Paul] Yeah, I ain't your fuckin' friend We'll do your ass here nigga *Laughter* Three 6 Mafia comin' at your ass for the 9-7, bitch! Yeah... watch your back niggas! You know who you are motherfucker! Thought that underground shit wouldn't gon' work, didn't ya? *Laughter*