LOW LIFE MUTHAFUCKAS
By
Poison Clan

***************

(Intro from "Freddy's Dead")
(Dolemite: "Yeah there's these two low life muthafuckas ...")
Verse 1
[Debonaire] Check it out it's the Poison Clan
Debonaire Drugz and the Money Man
Low life niggas you see the Clan
And say that it figures
You can pull my file and see I
Talk about hoes and shit that's wild
'Cause I don't give a god damn
Bein' that ghetto hood that I am
Gamblin' for bread; my Smif-n-Wessun
Beats any spread
You can't play me like Atari
Motherfuckers tryin' to will be sorry
'Cause Debonaire's far from a sucker
Another low-life motherfucker
[JT Money] Mack-Daddy, another name for pimp
Worried 'bout nothin', just struttin' with a gangsta limp
Since the youth, had dreams of riches
Makin' money by pimpin' bitches
Parents hate me around their daughters
Knowin' their kids sell for quarters
And I don't pay any more
'Cause that's all she's worth to me, the low-life whore
I mean, she's makin' me rich
And only God knows I love a bitch
Who keeps me strong in the game
Pimp your little sister, won't feel shame
I go bitch-berserk, 'cause if your mother's
On my dick, I'll put the bitch to work
Verse 2
[Debonaire] It's a jack, so get against the wall
And stop lookin' for a cop to call
'Cause if you do so much as twitch
You'll end up somewhere in a ditch
'Cause I'm like that; you ain't heard?
Motherfuckers had to spread the word
This kid, I once shot him
'Cause his Cadillac had too much bottom
That's a good enough reason
To me, an

SPOILED ROTTEN

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Verse 1
[Debonaire] Everybody that we see'll be shocked and stunned
'Cause it's me Debonaire the man that's done
The impossible. Now the people stop and stare
I got richer than the richest man of the year
JT Deb and Drugz better known as the Poison Clan
Made a plan to get even richer than
The Rockefellers and any other fellas
Now we own docks bond stocks swellers
Other investments to stay on top
You would need a reservation to shop where I shop
I be drinkin' Moet in a private jet
Thinkin' shit I'll put down on New York just yet
When I talk about buyin', my partner says ...
[JT Money] Yo, I'ma buy the White House and rent it out to the Prez
'Cause I'm rich as hell, my (bitches wail/bitch as well)
Got clientele, because the records sell
Take champagne baths, girlies make me laugh
They be pantin' and sweatin' just to get on my staff
Made the President a resident on Money Street
Since I'm Money, money talks so I don't have to speak
Wear designer clothes, macks out on the road
Got a dog named Dollar with a mouth full o' gold
My lifestyle seems fancy; all my fans see
The Money-Man is grand; the Clan enhanced me
Try to creep the Clan, you better out run
A solid gold silver-bullet-shootin' shotgun
I'm spoiled rotten, and you can plainly see
That your boy Richie Rich ain't got nothin' on me
But now that we're rich, our old friends are forgotten
Now that the Poison Clan's spoiled rotten
Verse 2: Debonaire
I make bucks deluxe, wear a tux to chill
So fly, I'd die and get my face on a bill
Any hoe that ain't freakin', I ain't speakin' 'cause
Even when I wasn't rich I had the hoes that was

SHAKE WATCHA MAMA GAVE YA

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JT: Fuck that shit let's go to Pac Jam.
Devastator:
Yeahhhhh ha ha! C'mon now! C'mon! Yo yo! Lemme hear ya say
Shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
Say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
Lemme hear ya say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
Lemme hear ya say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, SHAKE THAT SHIT, HOE!!!
Verse 1: JT Money
Hoe, bend over and spread ya butt cheeks
Let a nigga see them guts, freak!
Touch the ground! Slap that ass,
Make it jump up and down!
You gotta get butt-naked
But if you want my money, hoe, you gotta shake it
What you gon' do? You gotta shake somethin'
For Madd Ball and Uzi too!
Roll them hips, get this grip
Now let me see them pussy-lips
You know a nigga be lovin' it
Bring that ass too close, I'm up in it!
See, I'ma get my money's worth, bitch,
I ain't tryin' to make yo' ass rich
JT, with a different kind of flavor
Bitch, shake what ya' mama gave ya!
Devastator:
C'mon, c'mon, say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
Lemme hear ya say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
C'mon, c'mon, shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
Lemme hear ya say shake what ya mama gave yaaa! (Shake what ya mama gave yaaa!)
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, WORK THAT SHIT, BITCH!!!
Verse 2: JT Money
Work for this money, honey, stop fakin'
I wanna see some real booty-shakin'
Slap that ass and make it jiggle
Now shake for a little

PUT SHIT PASS NO HO

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Intro: JT Money
Yeahhhh wussup! It's that nigga! Uh! Nine Three!
Catch a record once again on them hoes!
Sendin' this one to all the negroes! Niggas with hoe problems ...
Niggas yo niggas is down over hoes! Shit is real!
Hoes ain't worth it money grip!
No bullshit 'bout them hoes them hoes is SLAMMIN'!
But I ain't got no problem with hoes
see my problem's with niggas! You niggas MAKE hoes like this!
That's why - yo, fuck that! Yo, check it out ...
Verse 1: JT Money
Check it, I make the hoes get butt-ass naked
Every time I wreck shit on a fuckin' record
But listen as I drop it 'bout today's topic
Soft-flow pussy-creep niggas need to stop it!
Wanna shoot another nigga 'bout a hoe
Just 'cause he fuck, nigga, let that bitch go
Now tell her how many niggas fuck before him
Guess you wanna grab a gat and go and try to show them
I ain't think so, not 'bout a stank hoe
Who like to fuck 'round head, tryin' to gain flow?
It's the '90s, you niggas better wake up
A lot of hoes out there's out to take stuff
Now this is not a record 'bout dissin' women
But all women got a little rob-and-givers in 'em
See, all them hoes wanna do is spend flow
With they friends and go dippin' in the Benz-o
Through the 'hood but you just couldn't figure
Your best hoe fuckin' 'round with some other nigga
Now you wanna clean your gun I'm gon' to
But that bitch gon' fuck who she want to!
So to keep that shit on the down low,
My nigga, put shit past no hoe!
Big Ram:
Yeah, don't put shit past NONE of them slimy-ass bitches!
Chorus (4x): JT Money
Put shit p

ACTION (MIKE FRESH NASTY MIX)

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Intro:
[Rasta verse by Likkle Wicked;
most of his verse is indistinct]
Now rudeboy JT from Poison Clan
come in wit dem lyrics and kill the gangstas!!
JT: Ahem! Hello everybody this JT Money the Bitchizer...
Verse 1: JT Money
Yo I can get fly like a plane and then wreck shit
Stomp on Compton and flex through the exit
Uhh rainin' on punks like a cloud
Punks get devoured 'cause no punks are allowed!
So step up if you think your shit's strong
But be prepared to get your whole crew flipped on
'Cause I flip niggas like coins
And once I get gone I'm in they ass like hem'rhoids!
Niggas get done, but then so many try
To be like JT motherfuckin' M-O-N-E-Y
I get busy like 5pm traffic
Punks get they ass kicked when shit gets drastic
Uhh, niggas don't want none of me, see
When I get hot, I burn they ass like VD
I stay hard like Capn' Crunch, suckas get capped
And crunched, or dissed if you're rappin', punk
Most of y'all can't understand me
You'll probably say "That nigga that can't be from Miami!"
I hate punks with a passion
Hey yo, hoe, tell them niggas what I want!
Chorus (4x)
[I want action] MURDER!! MURDER!!
Verse 2: Uzi
Lights, camera, action, it's on
Uzi is the brother on the mike, word is bond
I'm talkin' to all the fallin' niggas, the kinda creep niggas
Step up and get beat, niggas!
'Cause if you try the PC, it gets fucked up
We always strapped with the gat, so just shut up
And if I pull, you better pray 'cause you is dead, black
Test me out and you'll see just where my heart's at
That's how it is, fuck you

ROUGH NIGGA GETTIN' BUSY

***************

Intro:
Poison Clan's in the house and ya don't stop!
JT's in the house and ya don't stop!
Tony Cash in the house and ya can't quit!
Poison Clan comin' dope with the funky shit!
Hey yo throw ya hands in the air!
And wave 'em like ya just don't care!
And if you're ready to rock with JT and the Clan
Lemme hear ya say aw yeah!
Verse 1: JT Money
JT wreckin' shit like a drunk driver
The Bitch-izer's richer and wiser
Niggas camouflage to be large like the great one
Talkin' shit? Oh, that's a mistake, son!
'Cause I'm on track like a train
Puttin' niggas in pain, who think they can hang
With the likes of the Money Man
I'm from the Clan; I leave your head spinnin' like a fan
So spread your hustle, we can go off the muscle
Brothers talk shit, but still don't wanna tussle
With the Clan's warrior!
Make a sad story o' whoever's in the section,
'Cause all you get is wrecked, son
If you don't know what you're in for,
Pay attention as I mention the info
Or you'll get slapped like a hoe
I'm from the bottom, niggas! Act like you know!
Chorus (4x):
[I am ROUGH!]
[Another hit from the freestyle fanatic]
Verse 2: JT Money
Save the beef for the patty; I don't rap for the weak
The Poison Clan's mack daddy ain't your speed
I get respect to the maximum, some be actin' dumb
They're not down with the Poison, so I'm taxin' 'em
Eatin' 'em up, like a gyro sandwich
They're never Poison Clan 'cause they do zero damage
JT Money's the man you can never predict
I'm crusin' while suck