Killa Klan Lyrics - Chronicles Of The Juice Man: Underground Album - Juicy J

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 

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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 

Photos 

(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)