THE BITCH THAT I HATE
By
Poison Clan

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DEB: Hey baby I'm outta here I'm goin' to work.
BITCH: Bitch you know you ain't goin' to no motherfuckin' work! You
prob'ly goin' 'round one of them long cock slimy hoes'
motherfuckin' house!
DEB: Oh you callin' me a liar bitch? I'll fuck you up in here!
BITCH: Who you gon' fuck up? You gon' GET fucked up! I'm tired every
time I motherfuckin' turn around a bitch comin' to me talkin'
'bout, you fuckin' with them ...
DEB: Hey, hold up, hold up, check this out ...
Verse 1: Debonaire
When you first moved in, you ain't talked so slick
All you had to do was clean and take dick
Knowin' that Deb would bring home the bacon
Everything was cool, but now you break him
Sayin' how I don't take you out
Like when we first met, but think about
This motherfucker that bought you cribs
Comin' home to fast food instead of home-cooked ribs
I ain't complained, but you go on
Talkin' 'bout shit like your period's on
Sayin' how I spend too much time
Away from you with those friends of mine
A nigga will be a nigga
And a hoe will think that he's trying to egg her
So, bitch, you better get it straight
Before you become the bitch that I hate
BITCH: JT, I ain't with that shit! How you gon' be a dog and don't
even know it 'round here, bullshittin' me like that? You got me
fucked up! I deserve better bullshit than that! I ain't with
all that fuck-shit, talkin' 'bout, "I don't do this, I don't do
that," man, you better come clean with that fuck-shit! You
know better than that!
JT: Hold up, hold up, let me straighten all this shit right here!





LOW LIFE MUTHAFUCKAS

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(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

GAME RECOGNIZE GAME

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Intro: JT Money
Uhh. Smooth track. Got the hoes in the background singin'.
Y'hear 'em? True. Yeah time to get back on them hoes
let 'em know ... can't run game on a gangsta ... a nigga with
game KNOW' game y'know what I'm sayin'? Cut all the small
talk I'ma just tell you the illness I don't wanna be trippin'.
Verse 1: JT Money
Yo some women doubt I'm for real while some shout I'm
A dirty-mouth rapper 'cause I tell the truth 'bout 'em
But yo, after that I felt good
Told the truth 'bout them hoes like nobody else would
And yep, I still feel the same way
But you gotta respect the way the game's played
Because you can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em
So I get with 'em, and then I talk about 'em
'Cause yo, it's all just a game to me
Some women get offended, but you're all the same to me
See, most women got some B or H in 'em
If they don't, they associate with 'em
Why? Because it's in they nature
To run game on brothers and try to gank 'em for they paper
And I'm just up on the whole thing
So yo - game recognize game!
(Game recognize game!) Uh! Come on! Yeah!
(Game recognize game!) W'sup! Yeah, dude, come on!
(Game recognize game!) W'sup to the hoes!
(Game recognize game!) PC lettin' ya know!
(Game recognize game!) Yeah! Come on!
(Game recognize game!) All the hoes, w'sup!!
(Game recognize game!) Yeah! Yeah!
(Game recognize game!) Uh!
Verse 2: JT Money
I know a girl named Susan, constantly juicin'
Brothers for the flow, then she's out the door
And so, heard my last album,
Made a bet with her friend,

ROUGH NIGGA GETTIN' BUSY

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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

DANCE ALL NITE

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Verse 1: Debonaire
Bust a move you gots to get smooth
Get on the floor to the Poison groove
It's the Clan with another one
To make y'all dance just like the other one
You gots to get loose
Leanin' on the wall what's the use?
To a groove so smooth and outta sight?
Get on the floor and dance all night!
Verse 2: JT Money
It's a dance tune by the PC
That's the Poison Clan and we
Came to the party to make y'all move
So just get down to the Poison groove
And groove with the Poison Clan
'Cause if you came to sit, make a change of plans
And do what's only right
Just get on the floor and dance all night
Verse 3: Debonaire
All you see is grins
People movin' away from the bass bins
'Cause of that bottom
Most of you even scared to stand by them
Well here's a taste
Straight from the studio known for the Ghetto Bass
Made to invite, no sittin' down,
So get up and dance all night!
Verse 4: JT Money
Now dance ... 'cause I said so
Bust a move and go with the flow
It's the Clan, with a hyped-up dub
Poison boys takin' over the club
Whether dancin' or sittin'
It'll make you move 'cause it's definitely hittin'
And outta sight; just get on the floor y'all,
And dance all night!

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