Junior M.A.F.I.A. Young G’s Perspective

[Intro: The Notorious B.I.G.]

Some Junior Mafia shit right here

We just gonna set it off

We’s know the deal

This shit is real

On this end, uh

Shit is real on this end

No friends, J-M

(Shit it real on this end)

Shit is real on this end

(Shit is real on this end)

No friends, J-M

[Verse One: Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #1]

Got into my mind

Shit is smoked up, my sight is blind

Cock back the nine,

Cuz I might not like what I find

Murders I seen, killer fiend

Through the endosheen

Mean burst into flying milloteen

Into see I sit, till I’m rit

I use the gun and slip exhale

Hollow tits

Rub my pointer angle

This must be the devil’s triangle

Confused, so I mangle

Demons I had to strangle

Perfesion hit man,

And so they guns

Multi clips

I grab my gats

Got go back and let him pull it

[Verse Two: Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #2]

I said I’m rough a real bitch

Nigga, you better back up

with the four-four devid loaded

so motherfuckers slack up

I shit the raps and craps

Give me my snaps

Bitches wanting the claps

cuz I’m leaving them with fucking gats

I write rhymes, the gay mind

The maintain mind

The rag around my head is for the gang sign

So with the bottom lick the sha body shody

Fear nobody at less catch fucking bodies

On all you bitches, gang-bangers, snitches

I get so fucked up I don’t know

Which, which, is which is

Loss need a part of me

Trifling and stifling

MC’s on they ass

Two snakes in the fucking grass, nigga

[Interlude: The Notorious B.I.G.]

Do you know what time is is?

No friends, J-M

[CHORUS: The Notorious B.I.G.]

(What you want?)

Yo keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making imperionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective

(What you want?)

The keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making impirionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective

[Verse Three: Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #3]


The dirty nigga, trigger

Fuck the looking good shit

I rather grab my gat

And cock bullshit

Heat I ceep

When I creep

Using to sneak into leting kept treck

And count them greens

A nigga drops

I wish it was the cops

Shit is hot

The motherfucking block, lock

[Verse Four: Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #4]

Wicked creator

Life eliminator

Continue to sinue

Murders on a menu

Which get in you

Meet the boom on the stab

On blood harvester tomb

Ctach a body ever full moon

MC’s with temptaion

They’re part, afixiation

Snake relation

Like proper damn nation

Since birth

On this scortched dirt

Badness with the lyricals

Pocket full of miricles

I’m sick, and sick of being tired

Ain’t a soul I fear

Too tired to care

And sunwise

To let my tepature rise

Eagle eyes

Don’t believe in me

Believe your eyes

Should I cry?

Cuz I wet a nigga then he die

So cock my lie roll up and get high

[CHORUS: The Notorious B.I.G.]

(What you want?)

The keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making imperionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective

The keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making impirionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective

[Verse Five: Junior M.A.F.I.A. member #5]

How cause dirty bodies and glut cluts

Very busses and buck shots

Cock gluts and run the block

Niggas in they clean they clucks

Niggas can see me nuts

Let it get hot

Murder mo niggas and gotta load of reps

She think mets and cot

Because I only get drastic

So who hasta, black plastic

Specs in the back with all the caskets

Who can be mo killa?

Blood spilla?

Clips with hollow points

So when a nigga slips

He shits like he’s got salmonela

Danger approaches

Checking for who gets closest

You’re closest to get my focus

Smoke the rookies like roaches

Who can cause more terror then this

Like a full terrorist

Breaking niggas like matches

Broken bitches appoaches

And you know this

Nigga lets it increase

With mo heat than a heater

‘specialy when I got my milometer

burning up these niggas like VD

these niggas try to see me

now I’m making benders like Houdini

[CHORUS: The Notorious B.I.G.]

(What you want?)

The keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making imperionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective

(What you want?)

The keys, G-S 3’s, the papes

Busing in bitches

making impirionts late

cleaning out cribs

coke crums off the plate

niggas real protctive

young G’s Perspective, uh

[Outro: The Notorious B.I.G.]

No doubt, no doubt

The Bay Area meets Bedstop

Black Jack

Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Frank White is the fucker

Keeping it real for the 9-6 until, uh

Yeah, no friends, J-M

Uh, no friends, J-M

I lead a Black Jack

Uh, no friends, J-M

Uh, the snakes

No friends, J-M, uh

No friends, J-M, uh

Uh, No friends J-M

Junior M.A.F.I.A. I Need You Tonight

[Verse One: Trife]

Baby listen, bets to believe

I can give you what you want and all that you need

Mackin’ all the ladies, from the fly to the shady

Marquis diamonds, 600 Mercedes

I’ll fly you across the seas in a private jet

Whisper shit in ya ear to get ya panties wet

Honey I’ll show you how good life can get

Winin and dinin, non-chalant in the finest restaraunt

Feed you lobster cause I’m a true mobster

Lame niggaz bore ya, lay ya down in the Waldorf-Astoria

Victoria Secret; lingerie, I like the freak shit

Dim the lights, sex all through the night

King sized beds, Satin sheets gettin’ right

Wear you out, leave my number by the phone

When you wake up in the morn’, I’m gone

[Chorus: Aaliyah]

I wonder if I take you home will you still be in love baby

Because I need you tonight

Wonder if I take you home would you still be in love baby

Because I need you tonight


Home, home

Home home home

[Verse Two: Lil’ Kim]

Uh! Do you know who I be? Lil’ Kim the Lieutenant (that’s right)

Here to put it on you fools tryin to run up in it

(What’s the matter Big Momma, don’t you like what you see?)

Like my girl Mary B. you just ain’t runnin’ up in me, uh

You got to give me what I need baby..

That’s a drop top Z baby

Martini and Rossi, Asti Spumante

Dom Perignon so we can get it on

Movado watch, Tennis for the wrists

Nigga; you ain’t ever seen no ice like this

So now you know what you workin with, handle your business

And keep coming with that stuff that I like (like..)

Light a candle, I’m too hot to handle

I see yo’ eyes sizin’ up my hips and my thighs

Man I’ll do things to you (uh-huh)..

Vanessa Del Rio be ‘shamed to do


[Verse Three: Kleptomaniac]

Mack ass nigga, smooth like Tom Cat in the zoot-suit

Game’s fullproof leavin parties with bitches in NFS Coupes

Spittin’ game, with or without the eye contact

With or without contracts, layin my game down flat

Kleptomaniac, rides any rhythm that you give him, I’m livin right

Semi-precious stones, exotic bitches in skin-tights

Hands-free mobile phone, showin women how to live life

If that’s your girl, she wasn’t last night

Made her life worthwhile, Benjamins by the piles

Turn her frowns to smiles, livin Goodfella’s lifestyle

Nails done and hair, livin rooms with chandeliers

Sex in a strech Lex, no cares for who wanna stare

Yeah, now that’s a real women for ya

High execs and lawyers, pearls gems and Tag Heuers

Bachelor degrees, bringin home bacon and cheese

Freaky Saundra ain’t afraid to get some dirt up on her knees

[Chorus x3: repeats to fade]

Junior M.A.F.I.A. Oh My Lord


Why niggaz wanna clock me?

like that dance called the chachi

Don’t they know I break motherfuckers into parts like Rocky

Part I, part II, part III, niggaz can’t fuck with me

My style’s knock-kneed plum crazy (what?)

Who’s that wild ass motherfucker catchin wreck

Stickin Jamaicans for sound sets outside discoteques

It’s Klep the death specialist, Stallone and Stone shit

Stayin high representin for the nine-quint

Ras bad guy, burns the house down like Left Eye

Why try mimic? MC’s get broke like speed limits (uhh)

Niggaz can’t fuck with my metaphors

Canin MC’s like they in Singapore; Klep been through more wards

than Humphrey Shore, put together catchin leathers

on the regular, got that net, push me round and Dread stressin a

trick hoe, what the Dread won’t know won’t hurt

Robbin his workers for they work; now, WHOSE TURF IS THIS?

It’s Klep’s, the clothes wreckers’

Life interceptor, pussy collector

Got your bitch on my dick and I ain’t even stressin her

Check enough sex in her, my styles are regular

Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique moves in like the senator

[Hook:] Niggas say “Oh my lord!”

[Notorious B.I.G.]

Throw gats to *Guiliani*

Flows tighter than bitches punani, try me, die G

Dangerous, since my daddy bust me out

the tip of his dick, Biggie Smalls with the wickedest shit

Spit clips, niggaz split like bananas

Flavour like Tropicana; orange, mango, peach

I strangle each — negro for they dough

Niggaz get to bendin, got two cases, one pendin

560 V-12 engine, women spinnin

in 9-2-9 Mazda’s, Tammy and Natasha

The menage-a-trois around my waist

like Ill and Al Skratch smokin 50 sacks in the back of Ac’s

Windows cracked, so sit back relax

Yo Vec, crush the hash, the Beretta’s in the stash

[Hook: x4]


What you doin with yourself? Stone heart’s the way to wealth

Indecisive thoughts make sentences get dealt

Money makes the world go round, robbin shit

Fuck a job shit, niggaz want cribs, bricks and spliffs

All-wheel automobiles, traction control

for clay roads, rollin with dough, kickin game

on the cel with bitches on hold, that’s how we roll (uhh)

Rhymes got tight as hell so to the bank I stroll (uhh)

Money on my mind, open lips from my eyes

reveal pupils shaped like dollar signs —

[Notorious B.I.G.]

– the world is mine!

Niggaz frontin, feelin twelve gauge pellets

BIG is repellant, to all that “He say, she say”

We play, Russian roulette, fuck the threat

Your whole crew’s vagina, you and your co-signer

Nigga, we rollin in eight and a halfs, TV’s in the dash

Three G’s in the stash, see we love the cash

No coke, then get some more



Niggaz don’t know bout my game, they don’t know

how complex it is, baggin bitches in GS 300 Lexuses

and the sex is for summer sports

Passports for drug transports to remote resorts

Bitches with Donna Karan “Catwoman” suits, matchin figure boots

Haircut cute, on tops and garters like prostitutes

My lyrics explicit

Got bitches bringin they own condoms on the first visit

[Notorious B.I.G.]

If Biggie bring big bowls of beef

backin bitch niggaz down, burners bring bundles of belief

Common thief, slash drug chief, syndicated

Went from 10 K, to 24 K and motherfuckers hate it

J.M. sedated, quarantined (uhh)

BIG for President, buckin shots past the spleen

9 millimeter dream, Mac 11 nightmares

Electric chairs, which MC’s do you fear?

Big Poppa, Junior M.A.F.I.A., nuff said

Niggaz disrespect just are dead…

Junior M.A.F.I.A. Young Cassanovas


One two, we don’t stop

C’mon, c’mon, we won’t stop

We won’t stop, you don’t stop

You already know that, I am the man

and, I’m always right, and, never wrong

You already know that, I am the man

cuz, I’m always right, and, never wrong


Yo, check it out

I’m the trife one, Cease you got weed, let me light one

Girls of different cultures, chinese to the white ones

Home players, wild thing girl slayers

Cuties, big booties, Big gave Coogies

Black white beautiful ain’t nuttin I won’t do for you

Backside so thick, won’t fit inside a hula hoop

Shine on me baby, pour wine on you baby

I’ma drink it off your back, got a problem with that?

Fellas get me, sip Crist’, count fifties

Split Phillies, girly girls they bet are you a Willie?

It’s a trife world, ain’t gon be nasty, you a nice girl

Liz Clayborne dresses, diamonds to white pearls

Wild thing though, do lot of things low

Make a wise man grow to a live man a show

Only problem with the trife one is I stay low

Blowin lye with guys who got they eyes on my dough

[Chorus: Mase] [singing]

We got riches, we got bitches

You want drama, we got guns

I’m that kid, from Harlem World

and you know where I’m from

Now my team, is out for cream

and you know exactly what I mean

So any click tryin to stop us

is the click that gets seen

[Lil’ Ceasar]

Yo, yo, yo… Ceaser Leo, aiyyo

Aiyyo wherever I go buy all hydro

Lie low so I don’t get harassed by five-oh

Used to be in the red star, gettin my head slobbed

from the old school hoe that swallowed the egg nog

I chill of course until I feel I’m the boss

Until they got Lil’ Cease face on the Source

Got girls that be clever, that’s on another level

Tell me I’m your hero, Cease DeGeanero

Need a wild thing, so the town can swing

Pull the hair back and forth, layin pounds of cream

Bet Cease break your crutches with a crowded team

Fulfillin wishes to they misses with a thousand dreams

I got, mouth to feed, pretty childs to breed

If you really drinkin babies, youse can swallow the seed

When it come to the sex I like it better on your knees

Fore I hit the kitty cat, gotta check it for flees



Aiyyo nobody used to speak to me

to launch paper got me Geechie G, now every broad

keep beepin me, frequently, know the frequency

Just to speak to me, yes leave with me, but recently

get Proposals, of Indecency, but can’t cost a penny

Cause now I want Moore than Demi, but I ain’t mousy

Matter fact, we can get rowdy

But only green papers with the faces arouse me

Now I know what a woman think, but girl I’m top ten rank

But I only get hard when I see Ben Frank in the bank

It don’t pay to baby don’t show up

But know what? Better catch me fore my price go up

I’m a hoe slut for the dough but, I want the paper

to come, til I throw up, so girl grow up

You need to slow up the stash, I ain’t all about us

Cause a nigga like Kam all I need is my cash

I want my money…

[Chorus: x3 to fade]

Junior M.A.F.I.A. Back Stabbers

Smile in your face!


Back Stabbers!


They smile in your face

All the time they wanna take your place

The back stabbers!(Back stabbers)


The Buda got my brain seein my own my blood stains

Dental records checkin my remains,it’s hard to explain

First I see ’em then I don’t, they disappear

First she tried to slit my throat,now she ain’t there

I’m seein bitches in the mirrors behind me

But when I turn around, they hard to find

See a little bit of weed and a little bit of greed

Make a bitch wanna choke me till I bleed

Now watch a bitch breathe from dum-dums

That some young bum had to bust just for wreck

Earn some self-respect,now should I tote a fo’ pound

‘Cause a clown wants my autograph

Broken off that hash I think he wants my cash

The Lexus and rings,give a sex simple and plain

But these bitches is mad an’ they niggas is bad

So they scheme on a CREAM,you know

Fuck the hos,bitches is detrimental,the guns is essential



I’m having re-occuring dreams-bitches they want my CREAM

They wanna be lieutenant so it seems,I can’t sleep

I see an image that keeps movin round and round my bed

The shadow stops,points a Glock to my fuckin head

I grab my pillow,crack the back window

pull out the tre-8,bust three times at the gate

LORD have mercy!The devil tryin to curse me

I keeps seeing shit that wasn’t there in the first

See bitches be livin mad fad-they fuck my man

Steal out my crib,then come an’ try an’ shake my hand

Yeah man,breakin you down one time

I packs that shit for your ass,Chronic for your mind

I keeps it real on all you bitches,I wish you keep your mind

Off my motherfuckin riches

Bitches,I’m tired of all you hos beggin me for clothes

Bank rolls is all I knows,that shit is dead chicken-head!



The morning’s finally here,damn!What should I wear?

Time to get dressed and do my hair,once again it’s on

Somebody’s knockin at my door,but when I walk across the floor

Just ope’ it up,the motherfucker’s gone

I’m hearing voices in the back of my mind

Better grab my 2,’cause this fool might get outta line

I guess it’s time to test this bullet-proof dress

From putting holes up in my chest

I’m lookin through the peep-hole to recognise the face

I see three bitches and still I got to play it safe

I hope my dress come in handy,but when I open the door

Three little girls selling candy,ya see bitches is jealous

Of Little Kim because my click is thicker than the rest of them

All I wanna do is be rich and stay that bitch

Clock dough on the law,y’know?


Junior M.A.F.I.A. Crazaay

[Intro: News Report]

Statistics have shown that youth violence is at record high today in America

due to excessive use of drugs and alcohol-

MAAAN!!! How da fuck do you know!!!!


My mind’s just spinnin off dat indo smoke

Got me seein double visions ’cause I’m tore up loc

It’s no joke, da weed smoke got me crazaay

And da B&J got me pissy like a baby

I was fuckin wit deez twinz gettin crazy endz

Robbin jewelry stores for da cash and da gems

Identical bastards on some fast shit

Tried to stash it

Took the nine plastic, had they fam on some sad shit


My conscience buggin

Filled wit all the bad memories

I’m visionin dead enemies tryin ta kill me

In my sleep, same niggaz dat I put to rest

Got me wakin up pourin down a hella sweat

The drugs got a nigga high and I can’t explain

Tye and skunk playin tricks on my fuckin brain

Shit is strange ’cause I know deez muthafuckas dead

You see the murder still flash back in my head


Smokin dat denk, sippin dat drink

Make a nigga act kinda crazaay



Nigga it’s dark, it’s hard for me ta fuckin see

I guess the hash and Hennesy got da best of me

I got da urge for a snake related killin spree

Larceny, bent on da marijuana trees

Murder conracts

Collectin C note stacks, I react

And push the niggaz shit back (uh huh)

I neva new this young buck would be a lonester

‘Till they hung my picture, wanted on a poster

I pack two hot glocks, fuck the holsters

Neva new this lil’ G would get the most of

Robbin and stealin, then led to killin

Makin a livin

Offa muthafuckin drug dealin

Then came beef, The Snakes was wanted in the streets

Shit got hot, my other half did a creep

Handled his business ’cause he was on his third body

Then laid low wit dis freak ass hottie




I of da Snakes

Watch for fakes and jakes

Blood money I make, transactions up state

Sparkin weed and drinkin

The buddha still got me thinkin

Thoughts o’ death and all the bodies that I left

Face down, you know the routine for the cream

Means necessary

Cock suckas got buried

Nigga raise up or get blazed up

Who be da one lastin

Cock the fifth and start blastin

Try me

Die instantly, a couple o’ shots is all it takes

Aim slugs to ya face

Perpetrator fraud, I kill you and ya broad

Got yo ass wishin you was out dis position

Listen, the ganja have me on a mission

Stick the clip in

I stop all the bullshittin

I get it on

Trife, killin ass nigga rule the streets

Creep wit da heat stashed in the Montero jeep



Junior M.A.F.I.A. Realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

[Intro: Lil’ Kim]

Ladies and Gentlemen

You are now listening to the sounds

of the Notorious B.I.G. and the Junior M.A.F.I.A.

Jealous niggaz recognize, freak bitches fantasize

Uhh, ahhh..

[Chorus: Lil’ Cease]

Uh, one two y’all, you know I rocked ‘cha

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rocked ‘cha

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rocked ‘cha

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, uhh

Uhh, uhh, yo (Check it out!)

[Verse 1: Lil’ Cease]

Easy livin, bitches givin pussy like it’s free

My GS3 gleams perfectly

Lil’ Cease get raw like the stems

Land’s and Lexus’ flexed with the M-A-F-I-A

Blunts make my day

Friday to Friday stay bent baby

Plus stylish, sippin on Bailey’s Irish

My wish – filthy rich by sixteen

Swimmin in cream, fuck a dollar and a dream

Song knockin on hoe’s answerin machine, uhh

True baller, bitch page might call her

A little shorty but I like my bitches taller

Nastiest, the flashiest

You got blunts pass them shits

while Big fuck your bitch, uhh, uhh

While your nigga take flicks

Uhh, yeah, Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique

[Chorus: Cheek Del Vec]

One two y’all, you know I rock ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rock ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rock ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, uhh.. uhh.. uhh

[Verse 2: Cheek Del Vec]

I admit, back in the days I did stupid shit

Now I changed, I’m into bigger and better things

like rockin Cuban change, bitch copped the Range

Del Vec was set with the Lex and diamond rings

Pop Moet with my bitch when it rain

Drink away the pain, got mad stress on my brain

A little niggarole for dough

Copped ki’s across seas, in San Domingo

From a Cuban kid named Sallio, sell mad perrico

Coppin bout four bricks, then I called Nino

Meet me at the airport, feds is on the stalk

I almost got caught cause the dumb bitch talked

How much you make and what we do and where we live at

How much my Vee cost and where my cash stash at

But the feds still couldn’t get nuttin

J.M. still stuntin and frontin

[Chorus: Jamal]

One two y’all, you know we rock ya

Lil’ Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know we rock ya

Lil’ Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know we rock ya

Lil’ Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know we rock ya, rock ya

Lil’ Jamal and Junior M.A.F.I.A.

[Verse 3: Jamal]

Mally G, the villian, keep niggaz feelin

My trigger finger enhancin peelin

your dome piece with the chrome piece fat

I’ll fuck around, black, catch a Mac to ya back

Lethal weapon with the eighteen leather

Scheamin, bustin on whoever out the Jetta

Window, think slow sink low

Fuckin with raw dog ‘Mal you ain’t know, ahh

Remember this – funkabist lyricist

Blow the premises out the frame wit this

Killer seen with the guillotine shotty

with Junior M.A.F.I.A. rockin ya whole fuckin spot

Cockin the Glock, fifty, bust, hit the dust

to spit shit murderous, huh

Now do you think that you can fade Jamal, I fade dem all

And if I have to kill ’em all, I shall

[Chorus: Notorious B.I.G.]

One two y’all, you know I rocked ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rocked ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, you know I rocked ya

Step in the realms of Junior M.A.F.I.A.

One two y’all, uhh.. uhh.. uhh

[Verse 4: Notorious B.I.G.]

I got that venom rhyme like Sprite got lemon lime

Donna Carradine, keep her hair done all the time

My rhyme, somewhat Shakespearean, blood I’m smearin in

Tongue-kissin my lawyer, at my hearin

In this day and age, my rap is like the plague

I married this shit, y’all niggaz still engaged

Turn blowouts to 360 waves

How this 12 gauge feel sittin on ya tongue, on ya lips ‘n’

dippin with money L in the green beamer

Sippin Zima’s, on our way to see Katrina

She said she need a “Freak Like Me,” like Adina

Fucked her by mistake she had a twin named Regina

I seen her, lights excite all the freaks

Squirtin on curtains, lips, tits and sheets

Compete, meet death, ya dead, ya die..

Don’t fuck with B-I, that’s that!

Junior M.A.F.I.A. Lyrical Wizardry


Lyrical wizardry dances on MC’s like Murray on SC’s

Never flaunt, now motherfuckers come test me

Burnin everybody hotter than torches at Jamaican parties

Far from angels, niggas can’t see me like Charlie

Style weak? Hardly!

Don’t let the wacked persue you like Marley

JM clique moves in packs like whities on Harleys

Niggas get injured, fucked do’ in 40 fingers

Got bitches by bike bar bussin Glocks off a’ niggas

Klep don’t give three shits to flip scripts

Miss bullets from clips, leave niggas rollin up skateboards

wit nuttin under they hips, bitch, so if you test me

shit gets messy, bustin .38 speci

outta paper bags like Joe Pesci

Yo, you know the tune

Make sure bitches don’t eat when it’s time to shit out them coke balloons

Balked up the ninja when it got shady, now I got grown ladies

bustin .380’s outta E Class Mercedes

(Hurry the fuck up bitchm, get on!)

(Fuck you motherfucker let me out this L)

(There they go right there, dot them niggas)

(Motherfuckers!! *gun shots*)

MC’s get cut like glass, cut like glass

Rag tagged and crash, hemp bags, come save dat ass

Who wanna get broke the fuck up? Tell me!

Freakin vocabulary like Chinese and spelling bees

T-P-E-L-K held to reflect a device-es

The nicest, Jesus Christ-es

Junior Mafioso, niggas get torn off head to torso

Bullets evacuated out windows

From Hekkyl and Coch, P7 inmates

Extra .380 on a string ’round my neck cos feds check the waist

No time to waste, grab the loot and escape before next break

Heads are clockin, private eyes are watchin

Nigga caught up in the hustle

Fuck flippin packages and tyin up, minx and rings I bubble

Trouble’s what I look for in stores on expensive floors

Beeling boots is essence, bookin Pelle’s in my drawers

Armani, Gianni Versace, V2

lost count o’ all the little sections me and mans ran thru

It ain’t hard to discard cans of mace on guards

leave them bitch ass niggas screamin like a fuckin retard

Lyrically I come off like ink alarms

Got styles under the wing like spread is booked under my arms

Niggas couldn’t see me with closed circuit TV

tryin to peep my steez, like DT’s I get over like I’m fifteen

(Hey, you’re not fifteen)

I’m fifteen, what?

(What do you think we are? Assholes or somethin?)

Fuck you! Soundin like that nigga from Night Court

Loose my cuffs I’m outta here!

MC’s be fake like toupes so I transplant

Implant my fist to their face makin their skin red

Soundwaves disrupted, they fucked, kid

Airholes bloody rupted but that ain’t nuttin

The best is yet to come

MC’s get strung like heads on drums

They don’t be knowin what I’m knowin

Flowin like I’m flowin

Makin motherfuckers take nose dives like 747 Boeings

Obnoxious beef’s squashes face-to-face

Niggas get wet up like Alasha’s on Klep’s place

Thru the hard time sayin prayers committin crimes

Sick minds don’t care, rockin parties from front to rear

Brains engulfed by ferocious ???

runnin up on Big wit Lex wit nappies doused with chloroforms

Livin in a world where you do what you must

If preachers be robbin niggas who the fuck can you trust?

Junior M.A.F.I.A. White Chalk

[Chorus hooks:]

[Method Man]

I got more glocks and tecks than you

[Biggie Smalls]

Still seein bodies wit da muthafuckin chalk around ’em



I thought I told you

Never to trust, nobody but us

Now the gats must bust

Malicious black viper venomous

There’s gonna be a lotta white chalk and brains on the sidewalk

I know you hear me

Nigga talk


Nigga I’m weak-in, can’t move my mouth to speak-in

They caught me creepin

Deep in the hood peepin

Larce was sneakin they took me off my feet-in

But fucked up because my heart’s still beatin

I can’t sleep, thinkin how I’mma creep

Burners to squeeze but can’t get up to help my ememies


Psychopath, when the days of wrath

Resolve the conflict, I’mma lick who did it

And who da fuck was wit it

Till they dead covered blood red

Pumpin lead till them bastards ain’t got no head

The raw deal, bad era switched to terror

You could pray all day but still gone die anyway




When I come, I’m comin right

Fuck tip toein in the night

I tear’em up in broad daylight

Snakes too crudoo for you

Nigga catch deja vu

When I’m aimin my gat at you


It’s time ta make it happen

Fuck the yappin

I’mma, step the fuck up and start clappin

Double action

Two fo’ fo’, we robbers for satisfaction

Clickin off reaction


All those robberies we breezed

Backed down DTs

Feelin the murder disease

Thou shall die when I catch you

And lick you in your eye

Nigga, nice try


Our whole life, and thinkin

Centered in drugs

Twin mack loaded slugs and buckin at them other thugs

Engraved, with the mark of the beast

The shots I released increased aimin for dey head piece



[Larceny, Trife]

Murder’s the death penalty

Don’t need nobody

Helpin me but the other half of snake and me

Us two combined, shots ta lick

[Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique]

Now who goes the road against it


Niggaz got drama

I’ma kill his (baby) first

And then his (momma)

Ain’t no time for bitchin

Callin police and snitchin

You live by the gun, you die by the gun

Don’t do this killin shit for real, why do the shit for fun?

Try ta murder my blood, can’t let it slide

Family pride committin grisly homicide

Blunted, lame niggaz get hunted

Autopsy shows he felt the black rhinos

Fuckin witta pro

I hit, I don’t miss

Niggaz spit clips disappear in the mist, check it

I showed you rugged put you fools in dirt

Tryin ta put in work

But only gettin ya fuckin self hurt





For my niggaz; Nino Brown, Lil’ Ceaser,

B.I.G., Bugsy, Capone, Cheek Del Vek, Lil’ Kim, Kleptomaniac…


Junior M.A.F.I.A. Nothing Wrong

[Talkbox Parts]


It’s the Mafia

[Lil Cease]

Uh, uh, say what, say what

It’s the J-M-C in the motherfuckin’ house y’all niggaz ain’t (here we go), say what

Let’s get it poppin’ like the L popped the cris’ (get it poppin’)

Get my mind right so I can slide with a bitch (oohhh)

Cease spot her well I got the eye for the chick

Ass and tits fat with the juicy lips

Mami let me holla at you for a few ticks

Get to know your name while you light some spliffs

Let me get inside your mind for some major shit

Let me put you on to some old gangsta shit (gangsta shit)

I step up in the club so fresh and so clean clean (clean clean)

Maxout, and Mafia the american dream team (dream team)

Big free rollin’ on dubs with the bling bling

When it comes to stuntin’ for it shit ain’t no thang thang

Niggaz ain’t slackin’ niggaz just packin’

Bet you don’t want to see the G-U-N-C’S

Shit is off the hook, ma please believe it

Move +Dem Thangs+ Like +Angie Martinez+ (for my gangstas)


Let’s keep it rockin’

We got the cris’, let’s get it poppin’

We got haaaze, let’s get the smokin’, ??? on somethin’

Cause I don’t see nothin’ wrong (no I don’t baby)

With smokin’, bustin’, fuckin’ hoes all night long


Hey Mami

Peace to all my fly hunnies

To all my niggaz gettin’ money

To all my real gangstas sittin’ on 20’s

Lace your pinky, your wrist your neck full of jewelery

Live your life to the fullest if you feel me, bitch

Shake it to the left, shake it to the right

I put my dick in a hoe every single night (every single night)

What more can I say I can show you the best tell it

I +Get My Freak On+ way more than +Missy Elliot+

And if you think somethin’ sweet

We do like uncle L and swing a F through your jeep

Ass like trina (take it to the house)

Freak like adina (take it in your mouth)

Cause if you ain’t up on thangs

Bang bang be the name J-M-C’s the gang

I rep M-A-X, O-U-T

Blaze hoes from N-Y, cali to south beach (to all my gangstas)

[Chorus/Talkbox x2]

Let’s keep it rockin’

We got the cris’, let’s get it poppin’

We got haaaze, let’s get the smokin’, ??? on somethin’

Cause I don’t see nothin’ wrong (no I don’t baby)

With smokin’, bustin’, fuckin’ hoes all night long

[Cont. Talkbox]

It’s the mafia, you know there ain’t nothin’ wrong

Baby you know there ain’t nothin’ wrong

You know there ain’t nothin’ wrong

I want to fuck you all night long, stop it baby

You know there ain’t nothin’ wrong

Baby you know there ain’t nothin’ wrong

Smoke a blunt, smoke a blunt

Ohh all night long, it’s the mafia

Oooo let’s keep it rockin’, it’s the mafia

It’s the mafia, it’s the mafia, it’s the mafia

Oooooo it’s the mafiaaaa