(Chorus 2x)   No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast   No money, weed, no cash   It's time to get in that ass   Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie   Don't be acting like you don't see me   Believe me man you don't know me      (Blaze)   I was the first to put it down   Reppin' with Twiztid and the clowns kicking the gangsta sounds   Strictly keep it underground   Lotus in the family, you now how we do   Coming for ours and won't hesitate to ride on you   Record sales don't make you bulletproof   Big time, and we both know you don't be doing that shit that's in your rhymes   You ain't a G like me, you ain't the thug I be   You watered down, like the punks I see on MTV   Where you're motherfucking trees, always asking for smoke   Ain't it a bitch, everybody a G when wearing Loc's   That's a figure of speech, and I be sick in the heat   Whoever think he the shit, trying to claim my territory   I'm a motherfucking G with heaters loaded and cocked   You's a small time pee-on, braggin of running rocks   Bitch break yourself, for everything and then some   Hold the mic to my dick, so you can hear me when I cum      (Chorus x2)   No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast   No money, weed, no cash   It's time to get in that ass   Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie   Don't be acting like you don't see me   Believe me man you don't know me      Never ever was I a bitch hoe,   you can put that on my ten-fold   Ma pop Grundy and them know I sicko   Baby boy got banana clips for his chopper   Known to bring drama somethin' proper   Check nuts   Colton Grundy got handles, I got the J   So when I'm spiting from the big oh line, nuts' in your face   Dead homie on a ho-port, smoking a Newport   Spiting at the bitches, and bumping that new Too Short   Life is nothing I can even they to relate to, for real though   Being dead is serious, it change you   All I got left in this world, is my music to play   So you correct if you thinkin', that I'ma do my thang   And all the thugs that wit me, throw your shit in the air   And wave those motherfuckers side to side   like you don't care   And if you feeling like I'm feeling, then it's plainy clear   'Cause it's a whole bunch of dead folk chilling in here      (Chorus x2)   No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast   No money, weed, no cash   It's time to get in that ass   Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie   Don't be acting like you don't see me   Believe me man you don't know me      (Violent J)   It's me and Blaze, drunk driving in an 87 Cutlass   Taking turns at the wheel while the other claps motherfuckers   You're chick, I'm dicking that   wicked shit, I'm kicking that   I'm hitting with the quickness, life's stinking, where the chickens at?   You made a wrong turn coming down my block   I'll stop your car like I need help, and crack your head with a rock   Uh, Colton Grundy the only homie I got,   Mr. Dead Folx sparking at the burial spot   We about to ride on the world, leave it deserted like Marz   Get your wig spilt, by 40 juggalo rap stars   A little kid asked me if I ever killed anybody (yes)   I told 'em that I did and was warm and bloody   I'm Violent J, I'll be around until my dieng day   On tour smoking bud, and eating Flying J   Look me up under 'Juggla' and you'll find my name   And if you don't, then you're dictionary's lame motherfucka!      (Chorus x2)   No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast   No money, weed, no cash   It's time to get in that ass   Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie   Don't be acting like you don't see me   Believe me man you don't know me      (Repeat Till End)   Mr Dead Folx   Believe me man you don't know me