Artist: Joe Mafia Album: This One Song: Mafia Style Typed by: Cno Evil [Joe Mafia] I show you how to rock mic, kids, Maf's the nicest Yeah, I said it with authority, and, I'm in it from the bottom Of my four chambers, slang dangerous The illest MC to thunder pound clowns, to keep it What I rep, gutter, gutter, I die for this, it's getting ugly Smash you with bundles, the trash'll trust you It don't take much to get you rubbed out, you got a lot of mouth It ain't even built like that, it's real like that You wanna bring it to the stage, or bring it to the block It's however you want it, watch you haul 'em out And split the eight west test, go 'head and call 'em out But when I see you, I'mma show you what it's all about No doubt, sublands, where I'm from, crash land As they come, son, my uzi weighs a ton, hold up Drop atomic, on phonic, mic bionic Six Million Dollar man with the plan, to keep the heaters popping He in the streets, so watch him, closely approaching, be strategic Please believe it, set it off with no reason Mob cheating, log on to ww.snipethetasteoutyourmouth.com, the Vietnam Yo, it's bigger than rap, franchise the label Pintbox and black tie affair, hands that rock the cradle Get it? My hopes, so I ain't playing, I'm spraying Whoever say my name in vein, so what you saying? [Chorus: Joe Mafia] Mafia style... Mafia style... Mafia style... Mafia style... style, style [Joe Mafia] Now how do I move the crowd? Let's get it jumping, cousin, not now, but right now And how I put it down, my rhymes, my lifestyle Half my Syndicate clicks is waiting on trial, now Alotta lames on the set, thinking they styling out Got alot of hate and snake when I'm striving for the top Gon' reach it with my mic cord, wrapped around your neck Body hanging, half man tagging on 58 West, west Straight up, it's no gimmicks I'm bout it, bout it, so you know 'no limit' I mastered the flow, to ever diss, it's massacre dance floors For clapping at rap shows, get ghost, or get low, get toast, get dough It's felony melodies, I begin show, Waco Like if you talk snake, I don't know who it is On the run with this one gunning, stacking the fugitive Futile attempts get you bent Spanked at and shanked at rap, for five cent And on Diamond Street I hold it, atrocious, we boating Ya'll rappers need to stop it, with all ya'll wack promotions Ya'll cats ain't iller mine Plus, your style sucker, you ain't realer than mine [Chorus]