Three 6 Mafia, The Most Known Unknowns, the album
A lot of people question the title
They wanna know what it means
The Most Known Unknowns means
That Three 6 Mafia is known, but at the same time they unknown
You know what I'm sayin'?
We got a lot to do with what's going on in hip-hop today
You know what I'm sayin'? But niggas don't realize it
Niggas in the streets realize it
But the press and the industry don't realize it
But it's all good, it is what it is
I ain't gonna to talk your head off, I'ma drop these hits on ya
Play them classics
Where is the bud, where is the bud?
Slob on my knob like corn on a cob
Tear the club up, tear the club up
Push 'em up, tear it up, push 'em up
Who run it? Who run it?
Playa, why ya hatin'? Playa, why ya hatin'?
Sippin' on some sizzurp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
When I say weak-ass, you say bitch
Let me feel, let me feel, let me feel yo tongue ring
It's my baby mama (you ain't know), I'm on child support
She's a two way freak, a two way freak
I say, bitch, get the f*ck out my face
I'm ridin' spinners, I'm riding spinners, they don't stop
The way y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta
I'm from that Memphis Ten, trick, who gives a what where you're from
Lookin' for them JLo booties, big ol' ass, round and fat, let me squeeze it
That one hitter quitter, that one hitter quitter
Who you f*ckin' with, bitch? Who you f*ckin' with, bitch?
Shut the f*ck up
Three 6 Mafia - Most Known Unknown Album Lyrics
Three 6 Mafia - Most Known Unknown Lyrics
Writer: Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Roll With It
[ Featuring Project Pat ]
[Juicy J]
Let me chirp these fools
Juice got weed Juice got pills
Juice got the work on the corner cuttin deals
Juice know you haters out there snitchin ain't for real
So Juice got some gang niggaz down for the kill
Juice know the feds got surveillance on the field
We never had a job but we sittin on a mill
We ball out in the club wit our niggaz stayin trill
We never wrote a check just them big face bills
A playa drinkin Megas, Makas, cranberry vodka
Wearin a mink coat thats furry as Chewbacca
I saw ya main girl and a playa had to stop her
Her name wasn't Silkk but her face was The Shocker
The feds takin pictures of us ballin but I got 'em
A 7 footer hole for his body we gon drop 'em
We always on the grind we be watchin when they watchin
And when they turn they back its the clucka-clucka-rock 'em yeah!
[Chorus - Project Pat x2]
If you boys got beef we can (roll wit it)
In the club or the street we can (go wit it)
It don't make me none (blow for blow wit it}
Crack his head wit a gun (I'ma sho split it)
[DJ Paul]
We got them tones in the club and them bulletproof vests
Them three fifty seven titanium Smith-N-Wess
And plus we deep as hell and prepared to bust
You gonna have hell if you f*ck wit us and thats whats up
The whole club we maintain
These hydrashock bullets bust boomin ya brain
We in bed with the med we give 'em somethin to do
Cuz clown ass niggaz love to act a fool
[Crunchy Blac]
My hood is real nigga my hood ain't fake
My hood is home nigga everythang straight
My hood will rob you with mask on they face
My hood will do it to put food on they plate
My hood ain't tame dog they wanna jump fool
My hood they hang together they all jump you
And if you don't believe me then come to my hood
And you will see that it ain't all good
[Chorus - Project Pat x2]
[Music to fade]
Writer: DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PATRICK HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Dont Violate
[ Featuring Frayser Boy ]
(How many, how many talk that shit?)
What? What?
Three 6 Mafia
Frayser Boy
Yeah, yeah, it's going down
You know what I'm sayin'?
A lot of times we use the word bitch
That goes for niggas and hoes
Whoever violate, gett in your face with that bullshit
Here's what you do
Put your foot up they ass (what?), foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
Foot up they ass (what?) foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
Now niggas, man, they try to copy
The Three 6, but they too sloppy
You boys is fakers, nothin' but carbon copies
When we step up in the club, niggas they play dead
'Cause of raps and all this bullshit that they said
It ain't nothin' behind your mugs but some motherf*ckin' hugs
Y'all niggas nicer than grandmas and f*ckin' ladybugs
Y'all haters shakin' like booties up in a strip club
I'll cut your head off like Al Queda in this bitch, what?
I ain't playin' wit' you niggas
I'll put my hands on you niggas
My foot will stand on you niggas
I thought you knew we pull triggers
So why you testin' me, bitches?
You must be tryin' to get stitches
All on your forehead, you're cold dead
For f*ckin' wit' pimpin'
I'll take the back of a gun
Hit you, you stumbled and run
Split you in two f*ckin' halves
You mad runnin' your tongue
I ain't no ho that be likin'
Bustin' and fightin' and bitin'
I'm like a Tennessee Titan
Tacklin' and bringin' the lightnin' bitch
Put your foot up they ass (what?), foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
Foot up they ass (what?) foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
See I'm quick wit' the pistol, shootin' that missile
If I catch you slippin' then I'm gonna get you, mister
I ain't gon' miss ya, I'mma go and split ya
No evidence, witnesses, no pictures
Talk that shit, bruh, told you I'mma get ya
Hit you in the head wit' the tip of the pistol
Yeah, I do it big, shit, I'm playin' with your sister
Like Rskimos, leave you froze in a blizzard
Pick his ass up, drop him off on his last breath
F*ckin' wit' the Hypnotize, you gon' have a fast death
Real niggas, yeah we is, you can come and find out
Frizzle's on the Bay, I can show you what a grind 'bout
Three 6 got me on, now I got to keep a tone
'Cause they haters now my haters, if you wanna beef, it's on
Most of y'all been hoes, Frayser Boy, ten toes
Leave his ass in the past, nigga, like Nintendo, whoa
Put your foot up they ass (what?), foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
Foot up they ass (what?) foot up they ass (what?)
If these bitches actin' bad, put your foot up they ass (yep)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
And tell that ho (don't violate me, ho, don't violate)
Writer: Cedric Coleman, Darnell Carlton, Jordan Houston, Paul D. Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Swervin
[ Featuring Mike Jones, Paul Wall ]
I keep purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(I got them TV screen foldin down)
Purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
I keep purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(I got them TV screen foldin down)
Purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(Gettin high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
On a Sunday afternoon
You can see it in ma eyes
That I been cheifin like an indian
Playa this tha shit
Ridin down to a park strip
Hollerin' at a bitch
Put ya foot on the brakes
Ta hit tha gas and make it flick
En watch the ho start lookin'
But they can't see up in ma tint
'Cause there's a playa inside this motha f*cker
Ridin in the back seat
So before you wanna get up in ma whip
You gotta suck meat
She got me leanin to the right
She got me leanin to the left
I dun sipped so much syrup
Mane I think I need some help
You get three f*ckin hoes
And a 2 liter of playa
Then you betta go get you a freaky lil girl
You ask her, do she smoke weed
And tha bitch holla yeah
She pulled out some cigars
And some weed wit purple hiar
Then ma kinfo call
Say that he had purple drank
Then I turned that f*ckin corner
Headin to that purple drank
I keep purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(I got them TV screen foldin down)
Purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(Gettin high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
I got them 28's on tha chevy sittin so high
Them plastic cups in tha cup holda gettin dry
And before I see tha bottom ima holla at LL
'Cause that means I needa a are E F I L L
On tha bottom ta top nothin but that dick
I got a thick bitch playin with ma dick
And she dun got hit and she curious
She lookin at ma dolla wantin ta take a hit
You know I'm passin it
Long as she actin right
If she get done though
I'ma smack tha daylight
Clean her out tha hole
Kick her out tha door
Call up get high and cris
Go en get some mo
I keep purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(I got them TV screen foldin down)
Purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(Gettin high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
I keep purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(I got them TV screen foldin down)
Purple stuff all in ma cup
84's when I'm rollin up
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
(Gettin' high n ridin whips swervin side to side)
Writer: CEDRIC COLEMAN, JORDAN HOUSTON, MIKE JONES, MIKE A. JONES, PAUL BEAUREGARD, PAUL WALL, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD, PAUL MICHAEL SLAYTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Knock Tha Black Off Yo Ass
[ Featuring Project Pat ]
[Hook 2x]
It ain't no bitch in my blood nigga its nothing but thug [2x]
I'lll knock tha black off yo ass [4x]
[Project Pat] {North North} [repeated throughout verse]
The main nigga on the block where it's hot talking shit
I be the main motherf*cker somewhere dead in a ditch
Bullet lead to his broke leg two off in his head
Was he scared then hit the man 'cause of what he said
Copastead I be copastatic means I'm to the good
Copper lead in my automatic when I'm in your 'hood
Wish you would try to flex dog pistol in my drawers
Hollywood North Memphis dog motherf*ck the laws
Kept it real from the jump street still lookin' up to me
Out your grill bustin' wit' the heat off of the concrete
Blow your toes bloody out your nose got the body cold
Guy's will roll you to hospital full of hollow holes
Check 'em in with a sheisty grin you get out this cab
You gon' hand me some damn ends break yourself for dad
Doin' bad but I'm not for long my nigga it's on
When I shoot with this f*ckin' tone you is gon' be gone
[Hook 2x]
[Juicy J] {North North} [Repeated throughtout verse]
(Mmmhmm)
10 g's will get your ass blown off
Have your mama boohooin' and your daddy and your mother in law (mmmhmmm)
20 g's will get your ass chopped up
By some rendevue barbecue tips we don't give a f*ck (mmmhmm)
30 g's will get you thrown in a river
Splittin' wit' your nigga he'd probably ride wit' her (mmhmm)
50 g's will get you cold taken out
Niggaz mention your name they say "Man we don't know what you talkin'
'bout" (mmmhmm)
You can get your ass pistolwhipped with a nine or a .45 or a henny dip
We fight dirty till we die nigga get your throat slit
Then we stomp you to the ground and then we throw your arm a clip
We don't give a f*ck
[Hook 2x]
[Crunchy Black]
You can talk about this you can talk about that
But if I catch you talkin' I'ma beat you wit' a bat
Do you something wrong nigga how you like that
I thought I saw a puttycat I thought I saw a cat
Peepin' my goods try'na see my stash
But if I catch you peepin' nigga that's your ass
You the type of nigga that'll keep coming back
So I'ma gon' kill you leave you dead where you at
[DJ Paul]
I think they better call Bush 'cause it's a national disaster
When I unleash my pistolgrip Bushmaster
Ring the alarm I got double charms
100 round spinnin' you can't hide you can't run
I'm a sniper ridin' in a blue Chevy
A trunk full of guns man you hoes ain't ready
Kill a bitch like Freddy in the beddy in pajamas
In the middle of the night wake him up to red sights (Blaoow!)
[Hook 2x]
Writer: DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PATRICK HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Poppin My Collar
[ Featuring Mr. Bigg ]
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Now every since I could remember I been poppin my collar
Poppin poppin my collar, Poppin poppin my collar
Every since I could remember I been working this hoes
And they betta put my money in my hand
[DJ Paul]
Now when it comes to getting bread I got the keys to the bakery
Alot of dudes swear they play man they some fackery
Let me catch a girl up out some work in mah site
And believe I'm gon be atcha in the daylight with a flashlight
I'm tryin to get paid however money is made
Alot dudes like to pay ladies to get laid
But me I ain't no pimp, I just love to borrow
Paper from a fat bitch, a ugly bitch, a model fa real
[Juicy J]
Well you know me by the Juice man hangin out with Big Keith
Standin on tha porch, drinkin liquor, drunk, smokin weed
Trying to get a paycheck, but work that ain't came yet
Thats why I stay in a girl ear to keep that pussy wet
So I could get paid and relax in the shade
And say f*ck a nine to five cuz a nigga tired of slavin
It's never easy for a playa in tha hood on tha come up
If I meet a gal with three kids or more she get done up
[Chorus]
[Crunchy Blac]
She's just another hoe that I met in the hood
I told her I was Crunchy Black and it was all good
She might as well go on head and suck on my wood
And let me whisper something in her ear if I could
I got some hoes out there bringin ya boy back some good
That ghetty green you know what I mean that bitch is understood
Ain't havin to shout at no motherf*ckin slut
You know I'm actin bitch make cut a f*ckin rug
You better get out there and get my money in the woods
I'ma hit cha in ya head and leave ya ass with a plug
You know I gotta have, gotta get my money what
These hoes out here be f*cking for a muthaf*cking dub, FREAK BITCH!
[Chorus]
Writer: D. PEARS, DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD, WILLIE HUTCH
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Hard Hittaz
[Intro DJ Paul talking (With Echos)]
Yea! (Yea)
Three Six (Six)
Boogie Mane (Mane)
Hypnotize Mindz (Tize Mindz)
You know.. (You know)
Niggaz get scared when they see these hard hittas (Hard Hittas)
Walk up in the motherf*ckin' club we comin to repossess and shit (Possess and shit)
They start talking like girls and shit (And shit)
[Woman]
You cant touch me
Stand back
No!!! [2x]
[DJ Paul]
Yeah
[Hook 2x]
They got scared when these hard hittas came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggaz play dead when they hear we came in (Came in)
[Crunchy Blac]
See I'm a hard hitta yes I am
And I dont really nigga give a damn
About you and how you f*ckin rock shit
I put a 45 that make you bitches stop dead
You wanna cock it go ahead and cock it
Dont make a nigga like me make you drop it
I'm ten toes I'm from tha M-f*ckin-Town
We gangster walkin
You hear the f*ckin gangster sound
Its ashes to ashes dust to dust
The gats we trust
Y'all dont really wanna bust
I see you and your crew nigga in da club
You tuck in yo chainz you must be some sissy club
Do you wanna go to war nigga & spit some blood
You talkin that shit like a f*ckin slut
You talk shit then you might as well bring shit
I shut this muthaf*ckin club down for you bitch!
[Hook 2x]
[DJ Paul]
(Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!)
Now if you wonder why so many diss Hypnotize
Its cause them haters ain't eatin
they on some muthaf*ckin diets
A lot them is really sick I think they got amnesia
Cause on Sunday they diss ya
But come Monday they need ya
Quit tellin lies to the public
If you could rewind your life back
You probably be wit me on this track
But I ain't come here my nigga for no sorrow no wounds
But im'a stay bumpin till I bump by head on my tool
Fo' real!
[Juicy J]
Niggaz wanna blame us cause they ain't famous
They wanna ride a new whip instead of catchin the matter bus
So why I gotta take the blame for lame ass niggaz not havin things
Maybe you need to boost some clothes get yourself some pocket change
I know you like them fairy tales say you make the three six sell
So while my pockets still on swoll you reachin in the garbage pale
Player I'm not your friend wit' it name a price and J'll spend it
Get yourself a nine to five and try your luck on a lottery ticket
[Boogiemane]
What's up nigga
Wanna be bad as the next nigga
True facts you ain't gettin shit but f*ck nigga
Buck nigga catchin the cut when I rush nigga
Jump nigga thinkin you cool you chump nigga
F*ck that im'a get nine to get mine
If you hood dog off in the club I'm on shine
Pine in my mouth f*ck up your cloud and get paid
Wit' the same place to call our own and get away
Whats the deal dog I be bout buckin and getting crunk
And really dog I could care less about stunts
In my trunk though where you gon' ride after the show
Ain't no punk goes so I suppose you'll get throwed by some elbows
F*ck it I'll fill his ass wit' holes on that funk blow throwin high low
Like I'm a pro get crunk dog get buck dog
But actin like a f*ckin' fool gon' get you jumped dog
Yea! (Yea)
Three Six (Six)
Boogie Mane (Mane)
Hypnotize Mindz (Tize Mindz)
You know.. (You know)
Niggaz get scared when they see these hard hittas (Hard Hittas)
Walk up in the motherf*ckin' club we comin to repossess and shit (Possess and shit)
They start talking like girls and shit (And shit)
[Woman]
You cant touch me
Stand back
No!!! [2x]
[DJ Paul]
Yeah
[Hook 2x]
They got scared when these hard hittas came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggaz play dead when they hear we came in (Came in)
[Crunchy Blac]
See I'm a hard hitta yes I am
And I dont really nigga give a damn
About you and how you f*ckin rock shit
I put a 45 that make you bitches stop dead
You wanna cock it go ahead and cock it
Dont make a nigga like me make you drop it
I'm ten toes I'm from tha M-f*ckin-Town
We gangster walkin
You hear the f*ckin gangster sound
Its ashes to ashes dust to dust
The gats we trust
Y'all dont really wanna bust
I see you and your crew nigga in da club
You tuck in yo chainz you must be some sissy club
Do you wanna go to war nigga & spit some blood
You talkin that shit like a f*ckin slut
You talk shit then you might as well bring shit
I shut this muthaf*ckin club down for you bitch!
[Hook 2x]
[DJ Paul]
(Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!)
Now if you wonder why so many diss Hypnotize
Its cause them haters ain't eatin
they on some muthaf*ckin diets
A lot them is really sick I think they got amnesia
Cause on Sunday they diss ya
But come Monday they need ya
Quit tellin lies to the public
If you could rewind your life back
You probably be wit me on this track
But I ain't come here my nigga for no sorrow no wounds
But im'a stay bumpin till I bump by head on my tool
Fo' real!
[Juicy J]
Niggaz wanna blame us cause they ain't famous
They wanna ride a new whip instead of catchin the matter bus
So why I gotta take the blame for lame ass niggaz not havin things
Maybe you need to boost some clothes get yourself some pocket change
I know you like them fairy tales say you make the three six sell
So while my pockets still on swoll you reachin in the garbage pale
Player I'm not your friend wit' it name a price and J'll spend it
Get yourself a nine to five and try your luck on a lottery ticket
[Boogiemane]
What's up nigga
Wanna be bad as the next nigga
True facts you ain't gettin shit but f*ck nigga
Buck nigga catchin the cut when I rush nigga
Jump nigga thinkin you cool you chump nigga
F*ck that im'a get nine to get mine
If you hood dog off in the club I'm on shine
Pine in my mouth f*ck up your cloud and get paid
Wit' the same place to call our own and get away
Whats the deal dog I be bout buckin and getting crunk
And really dog I could care less about stunts
In my trunk though where you gon' ride after the show
Ain't no punk goes so I suppose you'll get throwed by some elbows
F*ck it I'll fill his ass wit' holes on that funk blow throwin high low
Like I'm a pro get crunk dog get buck dog
But actin like a f*ckin' fool gon' get you jumped dog
Writer: B. HUNT, DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Side 2 Side
[DJ Paul]
Yeah... This a dance song for all my niggaz in the club
that don't dance... Just be in the back arms folded...
Blunt in the mouth... Cap pulled down just scopin everythang
KnowhatI'msayin? Just in da cut... Watchin you haters
With a tone on em...
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
I'm in the club posted up (up) got my arms folded
Blunt in my mouth and these haters I'm scopin I'm just
Twistin my body from side 2 side (I'm just)
Twistin my body from side 2 side
I'm in the club posted up (up) got my arms folded
Fitted pulled down and these haters I'm scopin I'm just
Twistin my body from side 2 side (I'm just)
Twistin my body from side 2 side
[DJ Paul]
See ho I don't dance (dance)
In the city where I'm from I wear the pants (wear the pants)
These bitches think they cool (cool)
I got the dick so I make the rules (make the rules)
I got a big ol cock (big ol cock)
I love a bitch with a big ol glock (big ol glock)
She love suckin up cum (cum)
I think I'mma give her some (some)
These niggaz in here think I'm a ho (I'm a ho)
Cuz I'm quiet and ain't on the dance flo (dance flo)
But if one of 'em try me (try me)
I'mma be the new ink in his diary (diary)
I bet my click thicker than his (his)
We gon leave him on the floor in tears (tears)
Plus I got a big tone (tone)
Y'all suckaz betta leave me alone (leave me alone)
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
[Crunchy Blac]
I'm in the club I'm posted up
A nigga talk shit so talk up
If you a thug then get buck
Muthaf*cka it's whatever with me cuzz
I act a fool I act a clown
See I can dance lil buddy I get down
You hear my music you know my style
You hear the way Hypnotize put it down
BITCH!
[Juicy J]
I thought you knew I was the mane (mane) D-boy off the chain (chain)
Gon walk up to a girl tell a bitch I'm Rick James (James)
Wit the diamonds in my rang (rang) and gold point fangs (fangs)
And you know I'm hood rich means I got a lil change (change)
Wit my thugs from the North cause I know they got my back
Lookin for some chickens that can work it on the track
I'm just tryna get a mill I ain't tryna be a mack
Posted up in the club wit a pocket full of crack
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
[music to fade]
Yeah... This a dance song for all my niggaz in the club
that don't dance... Just be in the back arms folded...
Blunt in the mouth... Cap pulled down just scopin everythang
KnowhatI'msayin? Just in da cut... Watchin you haters
With a tone on em...
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
I'm in the club posted up (up) got my arms folded
Blunt in my mouth and these haters I'm scopin I'm just
Twistin my body from side 2 side (I'm just)
Twistin my body from side 2 side
I'm in the club posted up (up) got my arms folded
Fitted pulled down and these haters I'm scopin I'm just
Twistin my body from side 2 side (I'm just)
Twistin my body from side 2 side
[DJ Paul]
See ho I don't dance (dance)
In the city where I'm from I wear the pants (wear the pants)
These bitches think they cool (cool)
I got the dick so I make the rules (make the rules)
I got a big ol cock (big ol cock)
I love a bitch with a big ol glock (big ol glock)
She love suckin up cum (cum)
I think I'mma give her some (some)
These niggaz in here think I'm a ho (I'm a ho)
Cuz I'm quiet and ain't on the dance flo (dance flo)
But if one of 'em try me (try me)
I'mma be the new ink in his diary (diary)
I bet my click thicker than his (his)
We gon leave him on the floor in tears (tears)
Plus I got a big tone (tone)
Y'all suckaz betta leave me alone (leave me alone)
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
[Crunchy Blac]
I'm in the club I'm posted up
A nigga talk shit so talk up
If you a thug then get buck
Muthaf*cka it's whatever with me cuzz
I act a fool I act a clown
See I can dance lil buddy I get down
You hear my music you know my style
You hear the way Hypnotize put it down
BITCH!
[Juicy J]
I thought you knew I was the mane (mane) D-boy off the chain (chain)
Gon walk up to a girl tell a bitch I'm Rick James (James)
Wit the diamonds in my rang (rang) and gold point fangs (fangs)
And you know I'm hood rich means I got a lil change (change)
Wit my thugs from the North cause I know they got my back
Lookin for some chickens that can work it on the track
I'm just tryna get a mill I ain't tryna be a mack
Posted up in the club wit a pocket full of crack
[Chorus - DJ Paul]
[music to fade]
Writer: DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Half On A Sack
[Juicy J talking]
Hey nigga get yo weed, yo blow
Get yo drank together
Cause we bout to get hiiiiiigh
[Chorus 2x (Juicy J)]
Half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some
Bring that dro and play the beat
[Juicy J]
Nose all runny, fine snow bunny
Take her to the crib, make her drink cummy
I'm from the hood I ain't never did this
But now I can say I done done it
Cocaine Blain, that's my dog
Called him up to house this slut
We gone f*ck her in the back of the bus
And fill her nose up full of that dust
Three 6 Mafia, wild on tour
Whooping these niggaz and f*cking these hoes
In the bathroom bout two whole hours
Gettin' real high, passed out on the floor
F*ck that shit, niggaz out of the frame
Take 'em one and one, back in the game
Back on the street, back on the strip
Looking for a freak to run a train
[Crunchy Blac]
What you boys doing with that weed?
Where you boys going with that shit?
Begging like a little kid
Give the homie a little bit
I ain't smoke, yeah I smoke
Cheefin on that endo dope
Hypnotize better, we make cheddar
All the haters hit the road (kill yo self!)
[Chorus 2x (Juicy J)]
Half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some
Bring that dro and play the beat
[DJ Paul]
My nostrils so stopped up
I can't even smell the weed smoke
The green man, it got locked up
So I better make the best out this dro
I sniff, I choke, I really enjoy myself
It might seem like I'm sick
But that (?) done got me there
I got a couple of chocolate thangs
I got me a couple of white thangs
I got me a couple of Chinese bitches that pussies really sideways
I got a bag, zip lock
Filled to the brim with a pound in it
Me and scarecrow gone f*ck these hoes
And make sure the click hit it
[Crunchy Blac]
DJ Paul, that's my dog
We break down walls like king kong
Any nigga by my pad later on
We smoke so much call us Cheech and Chong
High as a bird, no like a plane
Got me high, I'm feeling it man
Ain't no shame in my game
Give yo boy the co-cocaine
[Chorus 2x]
Hey nigga get yo weed, yo blow
Get yo drank together
Cause we bout to get hiiiiiigh
[Chorus 2x (Juicy J)]
Half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some
Bring that dro and play the beat
[Juicy J]
Nose all runny, fine snow bunny
Take her to the crib, make her drink cummy
I'm from the hood I ain't never did this
But now I can say I done done it
Cocaine Blain, that's my dog
Called him up to house this slut
We gone f*ck her in the back of the bus
And fill her nose up full of that dust
Three 6 Mafia, wild on tour
Whooping these niggaz and f*cking these hoes
In the bathroom bout two whole hours
Gettin' real high, passed out on the floor
F*ck that shit, niggaz out of the frame
Take 'em one and one, back in the game
Back on the street, back on the strip
Looking for a freak to run a train
[Crunchy Blac]
What you boys doing with that weed?
Where you boys going with that shit?
Begging like a little kid
Give the homie a little bit
I ain't smoke, yeah I smoke
Cheefin on that endo dope
Hypnotize better, we make cheddar
All the haters hit the road (kill yo self!)
[Chorus 2x (Juicy J)]
Half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some blow
Half on a, half-half on a sack or some
Bring that dro and play the beat
[DJ Paul]
My nostrils so stopped up
I can't even smell the weed smoke
The green man, it got locked up
So I better make the best out this dro
I sniff, I choke, I really enjoy myself
It might seem like I'm sick
But that (?) done got me there
I got a couple of chocolate thangs
I got me a couple of white thangs
I got me a couple of Chinese bitches that pussies really sideways
I got a bag, zip lock
Filled to the brim with a pound in it
Me and scarecrow gone f*ck these hoes
And make sure the click hit it
[Crunchy Blac]
DJ Paul, that's my dog
We break down walls like king kong
Any nigga by my pad later on
We smoke so much call us Cheech and Chong
High as a bird, no like a plane
Got me high, I'm feeling it man
Ain't no shame in my game
Give yo boy the co-cocaine
[Chorus 2x]
Writer: DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Writer: DEONGELO HOLMES, ERIC JACKSON, MICHAEL ANTOINE CROOMS
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
When I Pull Up At The Club
[Juicy J - sample from "Slob On My Knob"]
Does it real good
Does it real good
[Chorus - Mr. Bigg sample from "Yeah I Rob" x2]
Now when I pull up at the club I'm lookin so clean
Se-se-seventy seven Cut Dog painted lime green
To-to-today I'm married and my wife don't play
If ya want-if you want me to treat you ugly bitch you gotta pay
[DJ Paul]
Can it be Rolls that pull all these hoes
Or could it be my Cadillac wit 20-inch Vogues
Can it be my manison in Memphis jacuzzi
Or could it be my crib in Florida on the beach
Can it be the ten million records that I sold
Or can it be the first one that ever go gold
Whatever it be like y'all jaw cause I don't stop
Continuously to make a ho draws drop, yeah
[Juicy J]
I used to always wonder why my girls have fits
When I walk up out the mall they be lookin at me pissed
Maybe just becuz I ball ridin eight or nine whips
And my name is Juicy J and I ain't payin no bitch
When I was broke as a joke they didn't wanna get wit me
Till I bought a Maybach now they all wanna lick me
Wit a Playboy mansion downtown in the city
And the hoes lined up like ninety centy pennies
[Chorus x2]
[Paul Wall]
I got the candy drippin stains off the Range when I'm switchin lanes
I'm in the slab glass house swangin grippin grain
They tellin me I'm the mane stangin licks to make a gain
Livin life in the fast lane gettin money I can't complain
These boppers see me ridin swangin wanna taste the fame
But you gotta break that bread wit me baby I'm married to the game
I fell in love wit stackin change I'm addicted to countin cash
I ain't worried bout naan ho I ain't concerned wit naan ass
I'm bout that dollar get it right I'm not out here lookin for a wife
I'm out here on that top flight on the grind all day and night
I'm a baller I'm a pimp I'm a thug and I'm a hustler
If you want some of this lovin break bread girl you a customer
[Chorus x2]
[Crunchy Blac]
See she's a freak ho let me tell you all a-bout it
I met her in the Valley and the valley ain't Cali
She tried to act shy but I knew she was bout it
Hotter than a summer day when it ain't cloudy
She say she want cheese but thats no doubt it
She just another ho I'mma hit then I'm out it
I'm just like Jody out the back door see
Hidin my face cause her old man know me
[Chorus x4]
[music to fade]
Writer: DARNELL CARLTON, DONALD PEARS, DONALD II PEARS, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD, PAUL WALL, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD, PAUL MICHAEL SLAYTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management
Pussy Got Ya Hooked
[ Featuring Remy Ma ]
[DJ Paul]
Uh-huh... Three 6... Mafia...
We gotta do it for the ladies this time man... gotta do one
for the ladies they say we never do one for em... We gon
talk about how ladies have these dudes sewed up...
How a lotta dudes fall lame to the game.. It's goin down...
[Chorus x2]
This pussy got ya hooked pussy got cha hooked
HELL NAW!
This pussy got ya hooked pussy got cha hooked
HELL NAW!
This pussy got ya hooked pussy got cha hooked
HELL NAW!
This pussy got ya hooked pussy got cha hooked
HELL NAW!
[Juicy J]
Freaky lil thang gon pass me by watchin you out the corner of my eye
Wit a big booty and them healthy thighs let a nigga get a lil piece of that pie
You ain't all that why you actin stuck up let me pour some of this drank in ya cup
And maybe later I'll hit them guts and maybe at night you'll be catchin the bus
Worsem ass nigga keep blowin up ya phone can't get the picture won't leave you alone
(you have 12 new voice messages) Girl what you done did that fool head gone
I think a young playa need to hook up wit you cause ain't no tellin what you might do
Chew a nigga up in the Bentley coupe toes curlin up like Roman noodles
[Chorus]
[DJ Paul]
She get it so wet she make it so warm
And on a lame brain mane she got a lotta charm
She swallow it like a pill and makin them pay them bills
For another nigga kid cell phone car and crib
He payin for the dinner for him her and all her friends
And when he spend the night her dog in the bed he in the den
But still he say he love her wouldn't put his mom above her
He did all this after the first time he ever f*cked her
[Chorus]
[Remy Ma]
Don't ask me nigga you nasty nigga you had ya tongue in my ass nigga
And you a pro so I know it wasn't the first time and it won't be the last nigga
And aint't tryna to act like it wasn't all that when you be sick when I'll fall back
Name any piece of furniture in ya crib and I can guarantee we f*ck on that
See when you hooked you know that it's.. so good you gotta go back
Then it seem like any other chick that you try to stick ya dick in be so wack
And for some reason it won't stay up but when you wit me it be way up
And you'll never say no when I call yo phone you already be ready to lay up
[Crunchy Blac]
He's a lame ass nigga hollerin that he pimpin the broad (pimpin the broad)
But found out he was spendin amp on the broad (amp on the broad)
Ohh how a nigga be wit that flauge (wit that flauge)
Hannndcuffin hoes that'll do that job (do that job)
Sloooob on my knob mane get that change (get that change)
Ain't no shame in her gotdamn game (gotdamn game)
All she think about she wanna please her mane (please her mane)
Bringin back double drivin him insane (him insane)
[Chorus x2]
[music to fade]
Writer: CARL BREEDING, DARNELL CARLTON, HERMAN LANG, JEFF BOWEN, JEFF COLEMAN, JEFFREY BOWDEN, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, BMG Rights Management
Dont Cha Get Mad
[DJ Paul]
You know we gotta do one for all these niggaz out here sideline
hatin y'knowhatI'msayin... don't get mad cause a nigga straight up
out the paint shop or car wash or the car lot or whatnot... feelin mean on
the scene wit a pocket full of green y'knowhatI'msayin... and any one
of y'all hoes think a nigga gon give 'em somethin I can't give ya
shit but this dick in ya muthaf*ckin mouth and ya muthaf*ckin
hole and you gotta reach me somethin for that ho cause I ain't
for free bitch.. pay whatcha muthaf*ckin weigh
[Crunchy Blac]
I pull up clean in my black f*ckin truck
Rims still spinnin so you know I'm cuttin up
I'm ridin down the street bumpin nothin but us
I spotted me a freak she was bout to catch a buzz
I asked her whats her name baby it could be love
But you know ya boy don't f*ck wit nothin but sluts
The ones that make money and stack them bucks
A bank for that cap and a bank for that butt
SLUT!
[Juicy J]
Nigga I'll tell yo gal she can suck on this big ol' dick
And won't be f*cked up bout it if she pay her rent to a pimp
And in the public's eyes she can be legit be my bitch
At the shake junt she gotta work a trick get the grip
Never no back talkin cause I call her jack backhand slap
She come up short wit money baby then I snap wit a strap
She gotta let these hoes know who the shit runnin this
And you just might have to throw some blows take a hit wit the fist
[Chorus - DJ Paul & Mr. Bigg x2]
Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist
Ridin ridin down yo block I got my charm out the window
Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist
I ain't braggin on myself but I deserve this miss
[DJ Paul]
I'm swervin I'm twistin from side to side
I got that iron right on my side
Them 20-inch vogues wit the yellow stripes
A 'rillo rolled up wit some of that light
The 360 turn on the fold down screens
Turn it all the way around and watch it from the front seat
The knock in the back got the trunk on rattle
Them hoes flockin to my whip thick like cattle
[Lil Flip]
HEYY.. you better put that money in my hand
I was born to be a mack not yo muhf*ckin man
You mad cause I hit cha ho me and her split cha dough
Why you actin surprised I know you heard this shit befo'
Me and Quint pushin Vettes smokin dro no stress
One tech two glocks infra red no vests
I clock dollaz and pop collaz for a livin
I'm at Pressure World every time I hit Memphis
[Chorus - DJ Paul & Mr. Bigg x2]
[music to fade]
You know we gotta do one for all these niggaz out here sideline
hatin y'knowhatI'msayin... don't get mad cause a nigga straight up
out the paint shop or car wash or the car lot or whatnot... feelin mean on
the scene wit a pocket full of green y'knowhatI'msayin... and any one
of y'all hoes think a nigga gon give 'em somethin I can't give ya
shit but this dick in ya muthaf*ckin mouth and ya muthaf*ckin
hole and you gotta reach me somethin for that ho cause I ain't
for free bitch.. pay whatcha muthaf*ckin weigh
[Crunchy Blac]
I pull up clean in my black f*ckin truck
Rims still spinnin so you know I'm cuttin up
I'm ridin down the street bumpin nothin but us
I spotted me a freak she was bout to catch a buzz
I asked her whats her name baby it could be love
But you know ya boy don't f*ck wit nothin but sluts
The ones that make money and stack them bucks
A bank for that cap and a bank for that butt
SLUT!
[Juicy J]
Nigga I'll tell yo gal she can suck on this big ol' dick
And won't be f*cked up bout it if she pay her rent to a pimp
And in the public's eyes she can be legit be my bitch
At the shake junt she gotta work a trick get the grip
Never no back talkin cause I call her jack backhand slap
She come up short wit money baby then I snap wit a strap
She gotta let these hoes know who the shit runnin this
And you just might have to throw some blows take a hit wit the fist
[Chorus - DJ Paul & Mr. Bigg x2]
Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist
Ridin ridin down yo block I got my charm out the window
Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist
I ain't braggin on myself but I deserve this miss
[DJ Paul]
I'm swervin I'm twistin from side to side
I got that iron right on my side
Them 20-inch vogues wit the yellow stripes
A 'rillo rolled up wit some of that light
The 360 turn on the fold down screens
Turn it all the way around and watch it from the front seat
The knock in the back got the trunk on rattle
Them hoes flockin to my whip thick like cattle
[Lil Flip]
HEYY.. you better put that money in my hand
I was born to be a mack not yo muhf*ckin man
You mad cause I hit cha ho me and her split cha dough
Why you actin surprised I know you heard this shit befo'
Me and Quint pushin Vettes smokin dro no stress
One tech two glocks infra red no vests
I clock dollaz and pop collaz for a livin
I'm at Pressure World every time I hit Memphis
[Chorus - DJ Paul & Mr. Bigg x2]
[music to fade]
Writer: PAUL BEAUREGARD, DARNELL CARLTON, JORDAN HOUSTON, WILLIE HUTCH, D. PEARS, WESLEY WESTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Body Parts 3
[ Featuring DJ Paul, Juicy J, Crunchy Black, Project Pat, Grandaddy Souf, Lil Wyte, Frayser Boy, Boogie Mane, Chrome ]
Crunchy Blac, Boogie Mane, Frayser Boy, Lil' Wyte, Chrome
Granddaddy Souf, Juicy J, Project Pat, DJ Paul the king of Memphis
Cock 'em up
Hypnotized minds, HCP, hypnotized camp posse
We finna do this for all you thievin' ass
Wanna be us ass niggaz out there
Stealin' motherf*cker, take ya fake asses on nigga keep it real nigga
Make this money like we makin' it nigga, throw it down
Ain't never been a motherf*ckin' bitch
Hypnotized here just to get that grip
Y'all niggaz talk 'cause ya talk like a bitch
Y'all niggaz walk 'cause ya walk like a bitch
Now ain't that some shit ya hatin' on this click
You gon' make a nigga get up with cha kid
Split yo wig oh yes, I did
I told you, you don't want it with a hard hitta kid
I done warned the glock spot to spot hit the locks
Hit a nigga for his stash spot
Took the rock nigga was got that was the plot
Dodge the cops they labeled it another closing shop
Open it up for closin' it up I don't give a f*ck
On a daily basis I be postin' it up
Smokin' it up choppin' it to match it wit dub
Give us a club six mane tearin' it up
These niggaz misleaded I'mma throw the first blow
Leave a nigga shirt soaked playin' getcha merked hoe
Chop it yeah, I hope folk money what I work fo'
Paul and Juicy sent me gotta put you in the dirt bro
Comin' with the pistols is easy we can get you guys
Frayser boy bizzle or beezy it's the hypnotize
HCP them my folks weed got my eyes low
If you know what I know run that shit to my doe
We back motherf*cker we smack motherf*ckers
If you step in our way killaz attack motherf*cker
But ya'll know ya'll done heard all that befo'
Y'all done seen the fo-fos and folks kick in ya doe
You done seen the gauge pump bout to see a Chevy trunk
Lights out next to the Mississippi river plumped
Duck tape hog tied wrong place wrong time
Hypnotized minds trick knocked ya up off ya grind
All my muhf*ckers you niggaz should already know
I'm the truth and out the booth never been a hoe
Get yo ass flipped sideways cut ya through the doe
You ain't know I'm a young rich gangsta nigga
Never been one of them old type wanksta niggaz
I'm a smart muhf*cka ask my mama who made me
A lotta niggaz mad 'cause they know they can't fade me
I'm Chrome Carleone Paul and Juicy who pay me
Well it's ya boy grandaddy call me Mr. Man
F*ckin' ya aunties ya nieces and ya mammies
See I could give a f*ck about ya tossin' all ya tough talkin'
You don't like me nigga hit me in my mouth
Man don't talk about it be about it get cha point across then
Candy ass nigga boy you softer than cotton
Fight me or squash it 'cause I ain't 'bout the spit boxin'
Hootin and hollerin' like a cheerleader squadron
You can't be like me slangin' D 'cause I'm hurtin' ya
No competition with the juice 'cause it's curtains
It ain't nothin' shakin' but some pimps in this bizitch
That's why you muggin' and yo face lookin' pizzissed
Stay flippin' cars ballin' out like to shizine
You stay askin' questions how the hell them niggaz do that
We smoke the best of dro while she down with some jack-jack
My eyes like the red carpet still on the blue side
They locked me up just like 2Pac and I went platinium
Laid it down for a calendar I'm right back at 'em
Took my game then weighed it up on a triple beam
Niggaz rob, kill, murder steal for that ghetty green
U.S. marshal at my folks house want to kill me dead
Wanna see me in a pine box bullet in my head
I'm was like, "I ain't did shit why you hatin' this?"
Ghetto thugs know my rap songs they relate to this
I been doin' this too long to still be strugglin' livin' like this
F*ckin' off with major labels slayed me like a bitch
And these got cheese and ride on rolls it mean hoes
But still on the road doin' free shows
Tryna get a few spins in a few spots
I growed up back in the day I wouldn't use my glock
I hear a lotta corny shit on the radio
That's because they record company wouldn't spend dough
Yeah, my label got a hook up with MTV
But they just keep forgettin' to tell 'em 'bout me
They try to play like its love and it's family
But all my marketin' dollars goin' to, shh
Tear da club up was the first crunk fight song
I made that in 92 a lil' not long
That it took 10 million sold and we still ain't on
That's why three 6 is the most known unknowns
Writer: Patrick Houston, Jordan Houston, Patrick Lanshaw, Darnell Carlton, Cedric Coleman, D. Pannell, Booker Hunt, Anson D Watts, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network
Stay Fly
[Chorus]
I gotta stay high I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay high I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay high I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay high I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
[Verse 1 - Juicy J]
Call me the juice and you know Imma stunt
Ride in the car with some bump in the trunk
Tone in my lap and you know it's the pump
Breakin down the good weed rollin the blunt
Ghetto pimp tight girls say I'm the man
Ice on the wrist with the ice in the chains
Ridin through the hood got me grippin the grain
And I'm sippin the same while I'm changin the lanes
Eyes real tight cuz I'm chokin the creep
Vision messed up cuz I'm drinkin the lean
Messing with D boys riding them big toys
Make your main gal wanna get on my team
She gotta give it up before she get in my car
I ain't Denzel but I know Imma star
Cuz when I'm in the club I be back in the far in the VIP part everybody in the bar
[Verse 2 - DJ Paul]
DJ Paul is a dog, one you do not trust
You leave your green around me
Nigga your green gonna get lit up
You leave your drink around me
Believe your drink gonna get drunk up
You leave your girl around me
And she bet she gonna get stuffed
These niggas is spies we living it live keep them nice tires
Ridin around what they like
Make a couple of nuns a couple of dimes
Its purple purp purple purp purple and swallow it down
with the yurple yip yurple yip yurples
its goin down!
[Chorus]
I gotta stay fly I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay fly I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay fly I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
I gotta stay fly I I I I I I I I until I die I I I I I I I
[Verse 3 - Young Buck]
Puff puff pass nigga roll that blunt
Let's get high nigga smoke us one
Car pull out the phantom
Niggas can't stand it but them hoes gon' come out
Just really wanna smoke my weed
F*ck these hoes and stack my cheese
Stop at the light and pause on 3
Hit the mall and it be all on me
But gotta keep one eye out for the po-po
Close the window when I roll the indo
Know they mad cuz I roll the benzo
It's that purple not pretendo
Three 6 Mafia and they my kin folks
So when I'm in Memphis, Ten-a-key
I just might not bring my own
Cuz them niggas still let me smoke for free
[Verse 4 - Crunchy Black]
Whats up mary! how you doin?
Mary jane stanky nigga
Since I have met you girl you ruined my brain (ruined my brain)
You stole my heart (You stole my heart)
Right from the start (Right from the start)
So I broke you down lil mama put you in a gar (in a gar)
[Chorus]
[Verse 5 - 8Ball]
Front row full of that dro
Leave the club full of rolls 8 mo
Yo girlfriend wanna ride with me
In the car wit a pimp where she supposed ta be
You aint met no dudes spittin cold as me
With a bag of kush that cost six-fifty
Have a nigga who smoke Reggie Miller
Coughin and choking constantly
Tastes like fruit when you hit it
Gotta have bread to get it
Smoke all night, sleep all day
That to me the American way
Roll that shit, light that shit, hit that shit, hold that shit, blow that shit out slow
Then pass it to me bro
[Verse 6 - MJG]
MJ gonna sprinkle in some of that super incredible
Have a nigga runnin back
Where the nigga really good sticky number at
Cuttin through the cigarillo like a lumberjack
In the morning what I need is to breath again a whole lot of weed
But maybe somebody can give me what I need when I want no less than the best of the trees
DJ Paul and Juicy J, 8-ball and MJG, and Young Buck we don't give a f*ck
We must represent this Tennessee
We drink a whole lot of Hennessey
Nigga got a little hair on his chest
And we be like Bill Clinton girl take it out ya mouth
We'll shoot it down right on yo chest
[Fade Out...]
I gotta stay high I I I I I I I I!!
Writer: Paul D. Beauregard, David Darnell Brown, Darnell Carlton, Marlon J. Goodwin, Jordan Houston, Willie Mckinley Hutchinson, Premero Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., BMG Rights Management
Writer: ANTHONY COLEMAN, DARNELL PRICE, KENNETH JACKSON, TIMOTHY WHALEM
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave
Most Known Unknown is the eighth studio album by American hip hop group Three 6 Mafia. It was released on September 27, 2005, by Hypnotize Minds, Sony Urban Music, and Columbia Records.
This album is known for having some of Three 6 Mafia's biggest hits, including "Stay Fly" featuring Young Buck and 8Ball & MJG, "Poppin' My Collar" featuring Project Pat (though Pat's verse wasn't included in the first edition, but would later be included in the re-issue) and "Side 2 Side" featuring Bow Wow and Project Pat (with Bow Wow and Project Pat's verses, like the "Poppin' My Collar" remix, would not be used in the first edition, but would be released in the re-issue, along with another remix featuring Kanye West and a slightly different sounding melody). This album would prove to be their biggest success to date, topping the commercial success of their 2000 album When the Smoke Clears: Sixty 6, Sixty 1. The original version was released on a regular CD version as well as a DualDisc version featuring "The Life of the Most Known Unknowns" documentary, "Stay Fly" video with a live performance, and the uncut video of "Side 2 Side". The re-release also had a bonus version, with two remixes of "Side 2 Side". A chopped and screwed version by Michael Watts was also released.
Along with chart topping hits, this album also featured several well-known guest rappers, including Mike Jones, Paul Wall, Slim Thug, Trick Daddy, Mr. Bigg, 8Ball & MJG, Young Buck, Remy Ma, Bow Wow (only on re-issue), Kanye West (only on re-issue), Lil' Flip, as well as the Hypnotize Camp Posse (Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat, Frayser Boy, Lil Wyte, and others).
Three 6 Mafia member Lord Infamous was notably omitted from this album. Many rumors speculated that he either left the group or was kicked out; these rumors were put to rest when DJ Paul told sources that the reason for Infamous not being on the album was due to a stint in jail, leaving Crunchy Black, DJ Paul and Juicy J the only Three 6 Mafia members to be included on the album.
Most Known Unknown opened at number 3 on the Billboard 200 and number 1 on the R&B/Hip-hop charts with 125,000 copies sold. It was certified gold by RIAA the week following its release on November 2, 2005, and reached platinum status by June 26, 2006.
Performed By:
Three 6 MafiaThis album is known for having some of Three 6 Mafia's biggest hits, including "Stay Fly" featuring Young Buck and 8Ball & MJG, "Poppin' My Collar" featuring Project Pat (though Pat's verse wasn't included in the first edition, but would later be included in the re-issue) and "Side 2 Side" featuring Bow Wow and Project Pat (with Bow Wow and Project Pat's verses, like the "Poppin' My Collar" remix, would not be used in the first edition, but would be released in the re-issue, along with another remix featuring Kanye West and a slightly different sounding melody). This album would prove to be their biggest success to date, topping the commercial success of their 2000 album When the Smoke Clears: Sixty 6, Sixty 1. The original version was released on a regular CD version as well as a DualDisc version featuring "The Life of the Most Known Unknowns" documentary, "Stay Fly" video with a live performance, and the uncut video of "Side 2 Side". The re-release also had a bonus version, with two remixes of "Side 2 Side". A chopped and screwed version by Michael Watts was also released.
Along with chart topping hits, this album also featured several well-known guest rappers, including Mike Jones, Paul Wall, Slim Thug, Trick Daddy, Mr. Bigg, 8Ball & MJG, Young Buck, Remy Ma, Bow Wow (only on re-issue), Kanye West (only on re-issue), Lil' Flip, as well as the Hypnotize Camp Posse (Three 6 Mafia, Project Pat, Frayser Boy, Lil Wyte, and others).
Three 6 Mafia member Lord Infamous was notably omitted from this album. Many rumors speculated that he either left the group or was kicked out; these rumors were put to rest when DJ Paul told sources that the reason for Infamous not being on the album was due to a stint in jail, leaving Crunchy Black, DJ Paul and Juicy J the only Three 6 Mafia members to be included on the album.
Most Known Unknown opened at number 3 on the Billboard 200 and number 1 on the R&B/Hip-hop charts with 125,000 copies sold. It was certified gold by RIAA the week following its release on November 2, 2005, and reached platinum status by June 26, 2006.
Genre(s): Hardcore hip hop, Southern hip hop, crunk
Producer(s): DJ Paul, Juicy J
Length: 75:39
Released: September 27th, 2005
Year: 2005