Killa Klan (8x)    Chorus: Killa Klan Repeated – North Memphis, South Memphis, ATL, Chicago    (cities differ for each chorus)       [Juicy J]    Late last nite, I was in the bed, eyes red    Thinkin' about project pat, and what the fuckin jury said    Givin' him what they gave him, then they put him in handcuffs    Motherfuck dem laws, I'ma make you put yo hands up    Don't cross the line, yellow take the police brand up    Outside the court, Norf Memphis and we klanned up    I can be a leader, bring the heata, like a farakhan    I can be a terroist to the government like a taliban    Long as ya black, and ya wrist they put they targets on    Watchin' niggas every move, tappin' niggas cell phones    Don't, Fall, for the okay, Don't, Call, and I'll bring the dope    And we gon' smoke we till the break of dawn    Trapped in this hood where there ain't no motherfuckin bon    And to that officer I know your stompin' ground here    But If you ain't from my hood, get yo ass from round here       Chorus (2X)       [Crunchy Blac]    First I'm gonna catch the bitch    Then I'm gonna beat the bitch    Then I'm gonna bury bitch    Shouldn't of been talkin' shit    You knew who you was fuckin wit    Fuckin wit the fuckin best    She who you fuckin been    Now I'm aimin' at yo chest    This goes out to all of y'all    All of y'all be talkin' shit    Slip the clip up in the gun    Then commence to bust a nig    Bust a nig, at ya dawg    Watchin' you niggas fall    Screamin' out like a bitch    Mane that's just some petty shit       [Lord Infamous]    I'm into blood baths, I don't, fine I'll punch ya    I'ma hit yo ass wit the fuckin rocket launcher    Can you stand the pain, insane, bounty hunta    Stop long, see ya pulp, till ya unconscious    Throw you in the dumpsta, lord catch a conquer    Lord don't, pistol play jump up, if ya want ta    This is the unda, buried by yo momma    Not only do I murder mane I also am bomb ya       Chorus (2x)       [Juicy J]    Picture this, you a juror and you on the stand    And you about the judge the life of a black man    Young brotha from the hood made it rappin' and    Wit a knot in his pocket weighin least a grand    Here's the story he got caught wit some fire arms    By a crooked ass cop wit his siren awn    He was known as a felon made it bigga than state    The whole case turned fed made him lose his faith    Picture this, now the judge he got hatred for crooks    Because ten years ago he was appointed by bush    Republican white man, and he don't give a fuck    If the guns wasn't his that was found in his truck    Prosecutors, shady lawyers, mane who can you trust    All this palm greasy shit, mane it's bigga than us    Make you wanna be like fuck it hit the trunk of the car    Deliberation it was time for the jury to star       Killa Klan (fade out)       RIP jesse deane ~2002~