Where da Killaz Hang

[Hook] I represent, where them killers hang [Verse 1: Lord Infamous] The ganja I'm choking, the laws'll get broken The pussies are open, the killers is scoping The pistol is smoking, it's bloodily soaking The Scarecrow, the sicker, the Snizote I'm locing We up in the attic, my victim in panic They try to get frantic, got blowed off the planet They don't understand it, soldiers can't stand it That's how I planned it, fuck you, goddamnit My automatic, ready for static Blastery tragic, have you in plastic Way my mind be twisted, got me itching, gotta have it Niggas want to approach Lord Infamous But I am loco I will blow, your head off your shoulders [Verse 2: Juicy J] Mister murderer robbers, niggas with some charges You fake mothafuckas, we gonna finish what you started Your heart is a nickle sack, bitch you best to have a gat Smoke a nigga with that trigga, Memphis nigga Project Pat I'm down like the Kami Kaze soldier on a killing spree Once we get into it dog, you gon' have to murder me Who I be, I'm hiding in the bushes laying, push us To the ground, ghetto clown, off your blood you shall drown [Hook] [Verse 3: Koopsta Knicca] To be or not to be, now the Koopsta's off the streets Only real G's close to me is my celly Jealous ass folks, tryna take me as a joke But this pimp shit bitch can't go, I ti-zook all of you hoes Loading up my mind, daily fucking my patience Running from my visitations, just the cool fool can ya face me Claim to be my friend, when ya taking a second look I guess it's on then big bizness bitch, no money on my book Mane, this shit is hectic, so I'm calling up to God Me and my charge partner, Booga, he's a rapper down with bars Party Cell 17's where I dwell Stale pastry on my shelf, I'm feeling as if I'm in hell Yeah, soon I'll be bailed, bailed well, living swell Triple platinum with the Phantom, deja vu, fuck when I left Oh, me isn't this a binitch, please excuse me for my French But you writing all these lyrics, if ya hear me then ya feel me [Hook] [Verse 4: Crunchy Black] In the hood where I dwell and I dwell real well For you playa hating ass bitches Mane you might as well burn in hell When you smell the aroma from them blunts When I hit corners Don't you duck, don't you dodge, cause it's only gonna be Murder-murder on my mind, leaving blank in the pass When you drop that fucking glass, mane I bet ya I kill your ass Nigga pop with the Glock in a pine fucking box Don't you try to call the fucking cop Cause a nigga ain't gon' stop [Verse 5: Project Pat] Shooting, capping, jack and chill Letting you so calleds know the deal Hollow tips yo ass gonna feel, roll your dice bitch and you real Fucking with the click, the crew, the clan, you gon' recognize G's swanging out their trees, have you stanking with the flies Cries coming up out your mouth, but they muffled by the tone When I pull the trigga back, you enter the enternal zone Southside killers, always staying strapped with them thangs Project Pat, Memphis, Tennessee, where them killers hang [Hook]