Lyrics

Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Ay, yo yo yo! We got e'erybody up in this bitch right here! And to all the Christian prankstaz out there: Consider this shit a spell straight outta Hell, and when it reaches the end, homie, you won't be well! I gots a secret to tell - the only way anyone finds you's the smell that yo' body expells, 'cause I'll straight leave you rottin' inside of yo' cell-... ...-YO! Ha-ha, YO!! Yo, save that shit for the bars, G! 'Dis 'bout to be Lucifer's anthem on Mars, C!

Yo,
It's Tryx! I be all up in the mix!
Got that triple-six tatted on the inside of my bottom lip.
I'm straight gatted, best believe I'm shootin' from the hip!
Afro hidin' a banana clip.
Ready fo' yo' Holy War -
'Dat's what all these gats be fo'!
When I get done, won't be no mo'!
They be scrapin' Christians off the flo'!..

Yo, yo it's me -
My name be Jimmy Fostah,
Luciferian Rasta - you know 'dat I no muthafuckin' impastah!
Find me in the finest Italian establishments,
Eatin' the menu's most expensive pasta!
When I kill a muthafucka, the last thing they hear me say is, "Hasta!".
I'm like the Terminator, call me Shwarzenigga, 'cause when I pull the trigga,
They all gonna know just who shots ya'!..

Yo-yo! 'Deez bars be fo' the bitches who leave muthafuckaz in stitches:
Ay, yo!
They call me the Lady Goat.
I store the Satanic raps deep inside my throat!
I'm a Maneater, baby, spit rhymes like Slim Shady 'bout Hall and Oates!
Dumb white bitches be all like, "O.M.G! That chick's crazy! No, really, totes!"
I gots the fuckin' Devil behind me, know they'll never find me, murda I wrote!

I got mo' heat than the best of us,
My name be Oedipus Hex!
Catch me at Festivus -
I got me a hit list, and yo' name is next!
Send you a fiery text
Straight from the barrel of my Smith and Wess!
They could put me on trial,
Let 'em throw the book at me,
I'll neva' confess!
With my fully-auto,
Yo' death is my motto -
Lay you to rest!

Yo, my name be the Serial Strippah!
I'm sippin' Hot Toddies, and stackin' up bodies, like I'm Jacqui The Rippah!
Killin' style so precise,
Give a lap-dance to Christ 'til I see 'dat old loincloth get tented!
He pullin' his collar, 'cause he gettin' hotter,
He needed it vented!
C'mon, Mistah Jesus! I think you'd be pleased if you get in my Bentley!
Soon as the door close, I take off his clothes, and start strokin' it gently.
The sweat starts to drip from his thorn to his lip, as I speed it up plenty!
I go for the strong finish like Popeye and spinach, and don't stop 'til he empty!

Ha-ha-HAAAA!! Triple-Six Crips up in the mix, muthafucka! Bow down! Recognize by the look in our eyes, we be Hell-bound! Yo, we leave yo' shit breathless, and yo' savior headless! Yo! Decapitation of Jesus Christ! Don't know about y'all, but that's what I call a fuckin' sacrifice!! With the Samurai sword, I slice through the Lord! Scratch ya' on the flipside, muthaFUCKAZ!!..