Lyrics
We packin' them Glock 19's with the beams when we on the scene
Billion got 'em buckin' blowin' clean off that triple beam with BHZ
Niggas hope with third world, niggas hope with the triads
The shit they fools burn is no tellin though
Queens mound in this bitch stay down with the click
Never turned the backs on backstabbers, now it’s super thick
Two lane, never lame, always been my fuckin' thugs
Ever since the school days, we never had nothin' but love
Smokin' sacks with my real, givin' packs to my trill
Paul Masson to my lung, for the ones that didn’t live
Get as high as ya can though but don’t let them drugs change ya
Get buck as you can fool but try to control the anger
Niggas gettin' on that white, things ain’t the same no mo’e
Used to kill for ya now it’s like I gotta kill ya hoe
Triple 6 got the shit, mane I make you niggas choke
Gangsta B Where you be? Blow out a cloud of smoke
To my niggas on that white: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that yellow: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that green: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that loop: Funky Town!
I wanna send a shout-out to my niggas who be on that dope
Chillin' on a corner, shootin' that dice between the Indo smoke
Squad and big … and curt
Lil Blue …, all my niggas from my turf
What’s up to my niggas from the groove? I ain’t forgot cha fool
Lil Glock and S.O.G, Harry T and Heavy C
Nigga Creep, back in the frayser days on cherry lane
Everybody kicked it like real playas with no type of gangs
Shootin' them thangs, now it’s '96, I gotta stay strapped
With my Smith & Wesson, eighteen shots cocked in my lap
Bulletproof vest on my chest, when it’s time to ride
Let’s take a trip to the North Memphis gangsta side
You can’t hide, neither can you run when a gun blast
Just another playa hater smoked in the aftermath
Bustas think we’re all rap, Three 6 Mafia plus a gat
It was plenty dead motherfuckers lyin' on they back
To my niggas on that blow: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that syrup: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that ink: Funky Town!
To my niggas on that fruity: Funky Town!
Choppin' these … just leave 'em all drippin' with then my artillery drenched
… these bitches, they (?) bleedin' to death in the rain
There’s no one who wishes to take on my Prophets of Doom … by my nuclear boom
The devil is shieldin' my brain when me visualize demons surroundin' my room
Cause we rowdy (?) come to rumble, we full of the thunder, the
straight-to-the-dome
Do not disturb my patience when fillin' myself with the incense of (?)
Lemme burn up B-U-Ds, durk-a-durk up in the freeze
Triple 6 Mafia members of the Memphis has put down another LP
Scarecrow inhalin' the (?) and I mystically never get tired of inhalin' that
smoke out
Satanic sounds, Funky Town, come down, buck all hoes down
Bitches get stomped with a fox jump
My niggas too crunk over that funk
Paul Masson got me dead drunk
Now let the Devil Shyt bump
As I awake from the things I was quittin' from the night before
Don’t want to snap outta trance, I only want to smoke some more
The only attire crank the chevy then me race on out South Memphis,
go and visit me, Three 6 is at the smoking house
Chillin' at the hideout, smokin' out, not worried 'bout a thang
Let’s get in the gangsta line and throw the Funky Town sign
Ballin' through Black Haven deep as hell in the suburban mane