Straight out the streets of Memphis, Tennessee
The robbery capital of the u.s.
The three 6
Because of they (mystic stylez)
They (lived by they rep) 'til the end
Causing (world domination)
And (when the smoke cleared), they still was (unbreakable)
Being the (most known unknowns)
But after winning the oscar only some would last due to pressure
And be the last man standing
Dj paul and juicy j, the (last 2 walk)
Smoke it up, what you do, what you do
Drank it up, what you do, what you do
Snort it up, what you do, what you do
Pop it up, what you do, what you do
I can hear the cries
Wishin they could turn back the hands of ti-I-I-I-I-I-me
Ba-a-a-a-a-a-ack
"Hahahaha! Aww man, get the f*ck outta here
Your cd ain't messed up man
I had to f*ck wit'cha a little bit
Cause I'm gone and I'm lit
But we fin' to give you some bump!"
Drop that shit!
Three 6 Mafia - When the Smoke Clears: Sixty 6, Sixty 1 Album Lyrics
Three 6 Mafia - When the Smoke Clears: Sixty 6, Sixty 1 Lyrics
- Intro
- 44 Killers (Interlude)
- Sippin On Some Syrup
- Weak Azz Bitch
- Just Like Us
- Im So Hi
- Mafia Niggaz
- Hook Up W/Hoes (Skit)
- From Da Back
- Fuck Y'all Hoes
- Where Da Cheese At
- Tongue Ring
- Barrin You Bitches
- Whatcha Know
- Act Like You Know Me (Point 'Em Out)
- Take A Bump
- Touched Wit It
- M.E.M.P.H.I.S.
- Just Another Crazy Click
- Who Run It
- Put Ya Signs
- What's Next (Outro)
Writer: CY COLEMAN, ALAN BERGMAN, MARILYN BERGMAN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing, WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing, WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
44 Killers (Interlude)
DJ Paul and Juicy J-
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha niggas wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Talkin all that f*ckin shit)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Coward ass bitches)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha niggas wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Talkin all that f*cking shit)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Fighting niggas over a bitch)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(F*ck you motherf*ckin hoes)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
Juicy J-
To you haters I'm the predator
Set em up, wet em up
When I'm in the hood, I'm like a drug-dealer regular
Coke poppin, bird shoppin, droppin don'tcha step ta tha
Triple six, guns click, bitch we the murderers
Crunchy Black-
Triple six is the clique, why y'all niggas keep hatin me
Y'all gone make a nigga posse up and come and getcha bitch
Grab that nigga by his throat, if he hollas, let em go
I ain't gon' let that nigga go, I'ma hit it at em wit da fourty-four
Lord Infamous-
I'ma sic' em, heat em, leave em bleedin, fill em fulla millimeter
Bitch ass nigga, torture treat em, creature feature, coke and weed
Soze, Two-L O Y D, sippin ounces of that liter
Ask me if I worship Satan, I'ma send yo ass ta see em
DJ Paul-
Now tell me how you boys talk wit all that shit in yo mouth
And how the hell you down ta key that open doors for tha Mid-South?
I put half of you haters on, make half of you haters groan
Left half of you haters alone
And watched you die all on your own and feel for ya
DJ Paul and Juicy J-
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha bitches wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Cuz nigga we ain't playin wit ya)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha hoes wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(We got them tones ready ta blast)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(What's up nigga?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Scared ass cowards)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Ain't no cowards in this motherf*cker)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Ain't no cowards)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha niggas wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Talkin all that f*ckin shit)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Coward ass bitches)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha niggas wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Talkin all that f*cking shit)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Fighting niggas over a bitch)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(F*ck you motherf*ckin hoes)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
Juicy J-
To you haters I'm the predator
Set em up, wet em up
When I'm in the hood, I'm like a drug-dealer regular
Coke poppin, bird shoppin, droppin don'tcha step ta tha
Triple six, guns click, bitch we the murderers
Crunchy Black-
Triple six is the clique, why y'all niggas keep hatin me
Y'all gone make a nigga posse up and come and getcha bitch
Grab that nigga by his throat, if he hollas, let em go
I ain't gon' let that nigga go, I'ma hit it at em wit da fourty-four
Lord Infamous-
I'ma sic' em, heat em, leave em bleedin, fill em fulla millimeter
Bitch ass nigga, torture treat em, creature feature, coke and weed
Soze, Two-L O Y D, sippin ounces of that liter
Ask me if I worship Satan, I'ma send yo ass ta see em
DJ Paul-
Now tell me how you boys talk wit all that shit in yo mouth
And how the hell you down ta key that open doors for tha Mid-South?
I put half of you haters on, make half of you haters groan
Left half of you haters alone
And watched you die all on your own and feel for ya
DJ Paul and Juicy J-
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha bitches wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Cuz nigga we ain't playin wit ya)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Whatcha hoes wanna do?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(We got them tones ready ta blast)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(What's up nigga?)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Scared ass cowards)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Ain't no cowards in this motherf*cker)
I'm bout to blow them boys ass off
(Ain't no cowards)
Writer: Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Sippin On Some Syrup
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
[x8]
[Pimp C]
I'm trill working the wheel, a pimp not a simp
Keep the dope fiends higher than the Goodyear Blimp
We eat so many shrimp, I got iodine poisoning
F*ck niggas make me sick with all that pinchin' and bargaining
You say that you a boss, I ain't believing that shit
You got the funny Geneva watch, with the Ferrari kit
Take that monkey shit off, you embarrassing us
I got the wet promenthazine, thick orange and yellow tuss
Hydrocor-zone, on the hands-free phone
The '84 zone, on them blades, 20-inch chrome
If you got 16, you can get a biz-zerd
I'm choking on that doja sweet and sipping on that sizz-erp
[DJ Paul]
Niggas scared to flaunt it, some niggas they want it want it
Some niggas they joan it joan it, but I be f*cked up up on it
We're with the Mafia 6, and we ain't bout that bullshit
If we gon' get high we gon' get high, and we gon' house a bitch
Two niggas all at the mouth, two niggas all at the ass
And plus there's some type of nigga
Dick hard all night and she cool with that
She popped her a pill of X, and drank on some orange juice
And just when you thought she was freakin' she done got super loose
Niggas come in by threes and deuces all in circles like duck-duck-goose
All that want it can bone it, she on that X and that tootie fruit
40 dollars for just one ounce ounce plus
Tuss and X is how its pronounced
Niggas sipping and dipping and tripping, man I'm bout all out
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
[x4]
[Juicy J]
People always asking me, "Me the Three 6 high on that"
Rolling on them X pills, stuttering pup-pup powder packs
Woah-wuh where the weed at, ain't like that we need that
Nyquil will slow me down, something that keep me easy
Nothing like that yella yella that will have you itching man
Talking like you "What's up, fool?" Vocal chords sounding lame
In my days all we did was chief out on a quarter pound
Gone on coke, eyes are bucked, this here shit will knock you down
Knock you out, make you fall asleep when you're on them wheels
Ain't no doubt, hit me when I beep for this refill
Once again, on my wicked high, gotta have that drank
Heard my name, Gino, I feel like I'm gonna f*cking faint
[Bun B]
Nigga tell me what you know bout Frank, Nito and Young Guido
Paul and Vito, we play a tune it sweeter than Pedito
With my Three 6 nigga pouring up in my southern creedo
Quick fast, we'll put it on your ass like John Vito
Cause you fronting rap sanger, be creamy like a Zanger
You ain't from the manger boy, but you gets the middle finger
Come bang her, rum dranker, occaisionally take
Your bitch to the Telly and be a dick and cum slanger
When Big Bun come danger, nigga ring your alarm
Sexy thang on my arm, cup of drank in my palm
And that crazy shit, I'm tripping on some skinny bitches
Something that's wholesome, Florida to Folsom
And for the most I'm steady sippin' on some sizzerp
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
[Repeat til fade]
[x8]
[Pimp C]
I'm trill working the wheel, a pimp not a simp
Keep the dope fiends higher than the Goodyear Blimp
We eat so many shrimp, I got iodine poisoning
F*ck niggas make me sick with all that pinchin' and bargaining
You say that you a boss, I ain't believing that shit
You got the funny Geneva watch, with the Ferrari kit
Take that monkey shit off, you embarrassing us
I got the wet promenthazine, thick orange and yellow tuss
Hydrocor-zone, on the hands-free phone
The '84 zone, on them blades, 20-inch chrome
If you got 16, you can get a biz-zerd
I'm choking on that doja sweet and sipping on that sizz-erp
[DJ Paul]
Niggas scared to flaunt it, some niggas they want it want it
Some niggas they joan it joan it, but I be f*cked up up on it
We're with the Mafia 6, and we ain't bout that bullshit
If we gon' get high we gon' get high, and we gon' house a bitch
Two niggas all at the mouth, two niggas all at the ass
And plus there's some type of nigga
Dick hard all night and she cool with that
She popped her a pill of X, and drank on some orange juice
And just when you thought she was freakin' she done got super loose
Niggas come in by threes and deuces all in circles like duck-duck-goose
All that want it can bone it, she on that X and that tootie fruit
40 dollars for just one ounce ounce plus
Tuss and X is how its pronounced
Niggas sipping and dipping and tripping, man I'm bout all out
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
[x4]
[Juicy J]
People always asking me, "Me the Three 6 high on that"
Rolling on them X pills, stuttering pup-pup powder packs
Woah-wuh where the weed at, ain't like that we need that
Nyquil will slow me down, something that keep me easy
Nothing like that yella yella that will have you itching man
Talking like you "What's up, fool?" Vocal chords sounding lame
In my days all we did was chief out on a quarter pound
Gone on coke, eyes are bucked, this here shit will knock you down
Knock you out, make you fall asleep when you're on them wheels
Ain't no doubt, hit me when I beep for this refill
Once again, on my wicked high, gotta have that drank
Heard my name, Gino, I feel like I'm gonna f*cking faint
[Bun B]
Nigga tell me what you know bout Frank, Nito and Young Guido
Paul and Vito, we play a tune it sweeter than Pedito
With my Three 6 nigga pouring up in my southern creedo
Quick fast, we'll put it on your ass like John Vito
Cause you fronting rap sanger, be creamy like a Zanger
You ain't from the manger boy, but you gets the middle finger
Come bang her, rum dranker, occaisionally take
Your bitch to the Telly and be a dick and cum slanger
When Big Bun come danger, nigga ring your alarm
Sexy thang on my arm, cup of drank in my palm
And that crazy shit, I'm tripping on some skinny bitches
Something that's wholesome, Florida to Folsom
And for the most I'm steady sippin' on some sizzerp
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip
[Repeat til fade]
Writer: BERNARD JAMES FREEMAN, CHAD L. BUTLER, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management
Weak Azz Bitch
[Chorus x4]
When I say weak ass, you say bitch
Weak ass, BITCH, Weak ass BITCH
[Juicy "J"]
How you feel with this nine mili mill to your grill
Haters talkin' lots of shit
But they scared of the steel
If you want me come and get me
Cause I'm real with this here
I ain't scared of none of you hoes
I ain't never shead a tear
In yo hood bumpin' ridin' with a twelve case of beer
Ain't no nigga make no moves
Get you scared, shook your fear
Y2K hit the clock
So you know the ending's near
One call to them killas and you just might disappear
[DJ Paul]
Now nigga all in my face hollin' real but real soft
Bitch I'm holdin' up this glock
Bout to knock your block off
You a weak ass bitch
And your CD cover show
With your fake ass face
I been knowin' ya so I know a sissy hoe
Yeah know this a triple six city
All that MTV and BET got you feelin' shitty
Just to think, you used to be my dog
Used to be my nigga, now you fake
But I stomp on you trick in the grass
You little snake bitch
[Chorus x4]
[Lord Infamous]
Uh, In the mood a f*cking crowd
Make the speakers pound
If you niggas wild
Knock these bitches out
Rumblin' the ground
Tramplin' niggas down
From the dirty south
Where the niggas like it loud
Wish ya hypnotized
Instagater ?
Fire in my eyes sosate lucky Frank White
Ready for the gunfight
If you wanna get high
Ain't no sympathize
Make you sleep till it's judgment night
[La Chat]
Talk is cheap
I hear you talking but you ain't bout your bizz
La Chat a mack ain't got no time to play no games with a bitch
My motherf*ckin' plastic gat we gonna rumblin' shit
Then they gon' hit'cha smit'cha get'cha so don't f*ck with this shit
I know you feelin' when I'm speakin' and I'm speakin' to you
Well hoe it's true, who got the proof bitch
What you gon' do
I keep my mug cuz I'm a thug
I left the twink on my grill
You got some manner
Need to show it
Shit you claim that your real
[Chorus x4]
When I say weak ass, you say bitch
Weak ass, BITCH, Weak ass BITCH
[Juicy "J"]
How you feel with this nine mili mill to your grill
Haters talkin' lots of shit
But they scared of the steel
If you want me come and get me
Cause I'm real with this here
I ain't scared of none of you hoes
I ain't never shead a tear
In yo hood bumpin' ridin' with a twelve case of beer
Ain't no nigga make no moves
Get you scared, shook your fear
Y2K hit the clock
So you know the ending's near
One call to them killas and you just might disappear
[DJ Paul]
Now nigga all in my face hollin' real but real soft
Bitch I'm holdin' up this glock
Bout to knock your block off
You a weak ass bitch
And your CD cover show
With your fake ass face
I been knowin' ya so I know a sissy hoe
Yeah know this a triple six city
All that MTV and BET got you feelin' shitty
Just to think, you used to be my dog
Used to be my nigga, now you fake
But I stomp on you trick in the grass
You little snake bitch
[Chorus x4]
[Lord Infamous]
Uh, In the mood a f*cking crowd
Make the speakers pound
If you niggas wild
Knock these bitches out
Rumblin' the ground
Tramplin' niggas down
From the dirty south
Where the niggas like it loud
Wish ya hypnotized
Instagater ?
Fire in my eyes sosate lucky Frank White
Ready for the gunfight
If you wanna get high
Ain't no sympathize
Make you sleep till it's judgment night
[La Chat]
Talk is cheap
I hear you talking but you ain't bout your bizz
La Chat a mack ain't got no time to play no games with a bitch
My motherf*ckin' plastic gat we gonna rumblin' shit
Then they gon' hit'cha smit'cha get'cha so don't f*ck with this shit
I know you feelin' when I'm speakin' and I'm speakin' to you
Well hoe it's true, who got the proof bitch
What you gon' do
I keep my mug cuz I'm a thug
I left the twink on my grill
You got some manner
Need to show it
Shit you claim that your real
[Chorus x4]
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Just Like Us
DJ Paul-
(Intro)
Yeah, run bitch. Run hoe! Ya nice motherf*ckas!
y'all jealous ass bitches!
You know what I'ma call y'all? Some Jello niggas.
'cause y'all jealous of us, bitch.
Every motherf*cker in our camp ridin clean, nigga.
y'all know the motherf*ckin score.
And this one right here is dedicated to you [censor beep].
It's dedicated to you, nigga.
(Chorus)
DJ Paul-
They want to dress like
want to sound like
want to be like
Ride like
Get high like
Make cheese like
The motherf*ckin Three 6, bitch you got a problem wit em?
The motherf*ckin Three 6, hoe you got a problem wit em?
Lord Infamous-
I'm from the part of Tennessee called SPV, Spray Pesty Varments
Catch ya busta boy, I beat em; blow em up outta his dorments
Punk ass niggas be tryin ta stick a light up under me, like some ornaments
Don't make me grab the case that's fulla the weapons and hand ya ?the bombing?
Bitch ya killin me, besta be eatin some porridge, you got some courage
Punk motherf*cker don't make me go get that there uzi up under the storage
Bitches, bloody Satan waiting ???
Armageddon soldiers comin to ???
Crunchy Black-
You trying to be like me, you can't be like me
It's hard ta be me, like them stunts on TV, g
You see me, hustlin, workin my muscle-in
Puttin my 2 cents where it can be trusted-n
You musta been a silly fool
Thinkin you could wear my shoes, damn fool
I walked a mile, I hauked em down
I understand now, why everybody don't want to frown
(Chorus) x2
DJ Paul-
1 thousand: Your kid kidnapped and f*cked in the mouth
2 g's: Wife never seen again, but nothin to brag about
3 thousand: Car blown up, house burnt to the ground
4 g's: Run up in ya weak ass show, lettin off rounds
5 thousand: Best friend found naked and decapitated
6 g's: Yo broke ass barried alive 'cause yo ass hated
7 g's: He ain't even workin on killin, nigga myself dead
Catch em in tha haven put somethin hot up in his head
Juicy J-
I'm real from the junt (junt)
Never was a punk (punk)
North Memphis bound bitch, buck ass hell and crunk (crunk)
You might catch me deep (deep)
On your f*ckin street (street)
Buckin wit the tech-9, sweep you off yo feet (feet)
Drankin on that liquour (liquor)
Chillin wit my niggas (niggas)
Hangin on the corner, wit a f*ckin rusty pistol (pistol)
Step up to me hoe (hoe)
When you on that blow (blow)
I'ma (gunshots: pop pop pop, pop) till you hit tha flo (flo)
(Chorus) x2
Koopsta Knicca-
Ahhhhh!
Please don't test the wrist or steel this
Waitin for she tell, pop, every style mystic
Pimp shit, hits never miss those red
Settin you a miss, when I spray the AK
Plus I flex-a hella gay, will you catch a boy?
Ever since a boy, always had black toy
So we ain't goin out, no punk, I'm knockin out y'all
Dead body, froze, ?hard puss in my jaw?
Gangsta Boo-
Well all them hoes that used to be down with me
I signed a deal, made some money, now you bitches downin me?
Bitches tryin ta blast at me,
or am I dreamin the motherf*ckers be after me?
Why you tryin ta be like me? You labelled as a want to-be.
You ghetto hoes, you need to read a bonus Gangsta Boo
'cause you might find a tip, bitch, that can help you.
I'm a down chick
Niggas be wantin ta crown chick
Stay around chick
Whenever, however, it's goin down, bitch.
(Chorus) x2
(Intro)
Yeah, run bitch. Run hoe! Ya nice motherf*ckas!
y'all jealous ass bitches!
You know what I'ma call y'all? Some Jello niggas.
'cause y'all jealous of us, bitch.
Every motherf*cker in our camp ridin clean, nigga.
y'all know the motherf*ckin score.
And this one right here is dedicated to you [censor beep].
It's dedicated to you, nigga.
(Chorus)
DJ Paul-
They want to dress like
want to sound like
want to be like
Ride like
Get high like
Make cheese like
The motherf*ckin Three 6, bitch you got a problem wit em?
The motherf*ckin Three 6, hoe you got a problem wit em?
Lord Infamous-
I'm from the part of Tennessee called SPV, Spray Pesty Varments
Catch ya busta boy, I beat em; blow em up outta his dorments
Punk ass niggas be tryin ta stick a light up under me, like some ornaments
Don't make me grab the case that's fulla the weapons and hand ya ?the bombing?
Bitch ya killin me, besta be eatin some porridge, you got some courage
Punk motherf*cker don't make me go get that there uzi up under the storage
Bitches, bloody Satan waiting ???
Armageddon soldiers comin to ???
Crunchy Black-
You trying to be like me, you can't be like me
It's hard ta be me, like them stunts on TV, g
You see me, hustlin, workin my muscle-in
Puttin my 2 cents where it can be trusted-n
You musta been a silly fool
Thinkin you could wear my shoes, damn fool
I walked a mile, I hauked em down
I understand now, why everybody don't want to frown
(Chorus) x2
DJ Paul-
1 thousand: Your kid kidnapped and f*cked in the mouth
2 g's: Wife never seen again, but nothin to brag about
3 thousand: Car blown up, house burnt to the ground
4 g's: Run up in ya weak ass show, lettin off rounds
5 thousand: Best friend found naked and decapitated
6 g's: Yo broke ass barried alive 'cause yo ass hated
7 g's: He ain't even workin on killin, nigga myself dead
Catch em in tha haven put somethin hot up in his head
Juicy J-
I'm real from the junt (junt)
Never was a punk (punk)
North Memphis bound bitch, buck ass hell and crunk (crunk)
You might catch me deep (deep)
On your f*ckin street (street)
Buckin wit the tech-9, sweep you off yo feet (feet)
Drankin on that liquour (liquor)
Chillin wit my niggas (niggas)
Hangin on the corner, wit a f*ckin rusty pistol (pistol)
Step up to me hoe (hoe)
When you on that blow (blow)
I'ma (gunshots: pop pop pop, pop) till you hit tha flo (flo)
(Chorus) x2
Koopsta Knicca-
Ahhhhh!
Please don't test the wrist or steel this
Waitin for she tell, pop, every style mystic
Pimp shit, hits never miss those red
Settin you a miss, when I spray the AK
Plus I flex-a hella gay, will you catch a boy?
Ever since a boy, always had black toy
So we ain't goin out, no punk, I'm knockin out y'all
Dead body, froze, ?hard puss in my jaw?
Gangsta Boo-
Well all them hoes that used to be down with me
I signed a deal, made some money, now you bitches downin me?
Bitches tryin ta blast at me,
or am I dreamin the motherf*ckers be after me?
Why you tryin ta be like me? You labelled as a want to-be.
You ghetto hoes, you need to read a bonus Gangsta Boo
'cause you might find a tip, bitch, that can help you.
I'm a down chick
Niggas be wantin ta crown chick
Stay around chick
Whenever, however, it's goin down, bitch.
(Chorus) x2
Writer: Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Im So Hi
[Hook x4: Crunchy Black]
I'm so hi', all i smell like is smoke
Yeah, that motherf*cking green
Yeah, that got damn dope
[Verse 1: DJ Paul]
I fuss wit' the light green
I fuss wit' the drizzle hoe
I puts five to the tail
I smokes till it is no mo'
I fuss wit' this hotel
I gots towels to the do'
I fuss wit' this freaky hoe
That's down fo' the dicky flo'
I'm blazin' this sticky, but never mixing it wit mycoke
This one right here for the nose,
This one right for the smoke
This one right here for the dollars
This one right here roll the blunt
I'm taking six from the stix
I'm wildin' like niggas stunt
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
1st you get the swishers
2nd buy the liquor
3rd buy some of that sticky, most smokers call it sticker
Can't forget the Newport, suckin' on my too short
Call my nigga Big Tris, bring that blow and snizort
I'm high ass f*cking lizzy
I'm stressin' how i'm livin'
Oh please, oh please, oh please,
just give me just one mo' hizze
This hydro weed I got some
I might blow you a shotgun
But if you can't play hizzap
I guess yo ass don't want none
[Hook x4]
[Verse 3: Crunchy Black]
Give me weed, give me green,
give me somethin wit no seed
Give me somethin I can break down wit
no sticks or unstamy
It don't makes no d if its ? or dat bud
Just give it give it to me
and my hand will fill it up
In yo hand you receive is a big face from me
Tell my nigga pass me that swisher,
so I can roll up this weed
Get me fiending up wit weed
Put that joint to that sweet
Then my nigga looked at my me
Then we started to repeat
[Verse 4: Gangsta Boo]
Yo, I be smokin' out daily,
maybe get up on some hazey
Then remote and faded baby,
cause you niggas drive me crazy
Still a lady when I'm escalated
Faded with my peeps
Bobby Brown smokin' niggas know not to even step to me
When I'm high I ain't gone lie,
I'm feeling freaky up inside
You wanna keep it on the low
I put my truck on the other side
Nigga nigga what'chu mean Gangsta Boo be on that green
Looking good up on the scene
Posted up knowhat I mean
[Hook x4]
[Verse 5: Lord Infamous]
Gone on the pills after ?
Yes I break out of the lot
Smoke too much hydro puff
I'm takin' it up a notch
Too me you ain't got to eat?
And the stranger thinks of me?
I'm paralyzed from the P
I'm shootin' up cause of thee
Bacardi for cocoa plex
I step up and now he letched
I'm going in to a trance
Da deadliest demon man
You thus as the Sosate say
Yeah pass me that saucer tray
Or pass me a blunt of hay
I wanna just drift away, drift away
[Verse 6: Koopsta]
I be smokin' on motherf*ckin weed
and chiefin' out
Hear me saying satinac prays
Let her suck my dick
Fo this girl drive me crazy
These niggas got me doped
Gotta blaze a blunt into me
Fo just take me to the chiefin' room
F*ck the city with the chicken
Chief the chicken, roll the chicken
Smoking got the chicken out there dirty,
with a lot of sticky
Hear me this and I think I blowed a pound
Now I seen me a little silohuette of mine
[Crunchy Black:]
Yeah that mothaf*cking green [x3]
Yeah that got damn dope
I'm so hi', all i smell like is smoke
Yeah, that motherf*cking green
Yeah, that got damn dope
[Verse 1: DJ Paul]
I fuss wit' the light green
I fuss wit' the drizzle hoe
I puts five to the tail
I smokes till it is no mo'
I fuss wit' this hotel
I gots towels to the do'
I fuss wit' this freaky hoe
That's down fo' the dicky flo'
I'm blazin' this sticky, but never mixing it wit mycoke
This one right here for the nose,
This one right for the smoke
This one right here for the dollars
This one right here roll the blunt
I'm taking six from the stix
I'm wildin' like niggas stunt
[Verse 2: Juicy J]
1st you get the swishers
2nd buy the liquor
3rd buy some of that sticky, most smokers call it sticker
Can't forget the Newport, suckin' on my too short
Call my nigga Big Tris, bring that blow and snizort
I'm high ass f*cking lizzy
I'm stressin' how i'm livin'
Oh please, oh please, oh please,
just give me just one mo' hizze
This hydro weed I got some
I might blow you a shotgun
But if you can't play hizzap
I guess yo ass don't want none
[Hook x4]
[Verse 3: Crunchy Black]
Give me weed, give me green,
give me somethin wit no seed
Give me somethin I can break down wit
no sticks or unstamy
It don't makes no d if its ? or dat bud
Just give it give it to me
and my hand will fill it up
In yo hand you receive is a big face from me
Tell my nigga pass me that swisher,
so I can roll up this weed
Get me fiending up wit weed
Put that joint to that sweet
Then my nigga looked at my me
Then we started to repeat
[Verse 4: Gangsta Boo]
Yo, I be smokin' out daily,
maybe get up on some hazey
Then remote and faded baby,
cause you niggas drive me crazy
Still a lady when I'm escalated
Faded with my peeps
Bobby Brown smokin' niggas know not to even step to me
When I'm high I ain't gone lie,
I'm feeling freaky up inside
You wanna keep it on the low
I put my truck on the other side
Nigga nigga what'chu mean Gangsta Boo be on that green
Looking good up on the scene
Posted up knowhat I mean
[Hook x4]
[Verse 5: Lord Infamous]
Gone on the pills after ?
Yes I break out of the lot
Smoke too much hydro puff
I'm takin' it up a notch
Too me you ain't got to eat?
And the stranger thinks of me?
I'm paralyzed from the P
I'm shootin' up cause of thee
Bacardi for cocoa plex
I step up and now he letched
I'm going in to a trance
Da deadliest demon man
You thus as the Sosate say
Yeah pass me that saucer tray
Or pass me a blunt of hay
I wanna just drift away, drift away
[Verse 6: Koopsta]
I be smokin' on motherf*ckin weed
and chiefin' out
Hear me saying satinac prays
Let her suck my dick
Fo this girl drive me crazy
These niggas got me doped
Gotta blaze a blunt into me
Fo just take me to the chiefin' room
F*ck the city with the chicken
Chief the chicken, roll the chicken
Smoking got the chicken out there dirty,
with a lot of sticky
Hear me this and I think I blowed a pound
Now I seen me a little silohuette of mine
[Crunchy Black:]
Yeah that mothaf*cking green [x3]
Yeah that got damn dope
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Mafia Niggaz
[Chorus x2: Lord Infamous]
We gotta come like we get doen and dirty for our figures
We gotta come like we be quick to pull back on some triggers
We gotta come you know dat Devil shit is still up in us
We Mafia Niggaz We Mafia Niggaz
[Lord Infamous]
So damn wicked got some shit you bitches never saw
I caught you shakin sawed off's pumpin now'll we'll break the law
I cut the air off where you breath while I'm blazin on these trees
The ? I get from these trees'll take your leg up off
You chokin from exhaust
You lost up in the sauce
You stand against the wall
Don't play wit Lord at all
You dealin wit some now you pissin down your leg
and got a gun against your head you know dis lead is for a bloody brawl
I'm tryna go for boss
Prepare for Holocaust
I got moss and when I toss it will get em off
I'm dirty for the cause
Bitch don't you hit the pause
I'll lock you bitches in the icebox wit it full of frost
Bitch don't you know that when I'm hi I leave a dimple
Cock back dis pistol then I'll pop you like a pimple
I got the tunes in the stones
In your home wit the chrome
You alone and the rest is very simple
[Chorus]
[Crunchy Black]
Ain't no nigga goin play wit me
Play wit me my nigga I'ma lay you in the streets
All I came for is cheese nigga dat's hard to believe
I'ma lock and unload and make your bitch ass bleed
Let ya'll know dat I came wit some shit up my sleeve
Know what I mean my nigga It's only Jus me
Slip dat knife down my sleeve
Slope you dead in your heart
Wit only dat sick shit don't get shit started
[DJ Paul]
Now ever since we done came dem hataz didn't play no joke
Try to bounce to the crib
I shot around in dey home
I'm bustin rugaz
wit some lugaz
Do ya
Nigga I'ma send em straight through ya
School ya
Bout dis bidness
Bout these boys
Ya bout to witness wit these toys
[Juicy "J"]
Wit dem toys yeah we got em
Make the noise when we cock em
Guaranteed to kill and rob em
Stopped em wit the sawed off shotgun
Niggaz in the street dey found em
On dat dog food and Vodka
So much dope the blood was toxic
And the mind is pure psychotic
[Chorus (fades out)]
We gotta come like we get doen and dirty for our figures
We gotta come like we be quick to pull back on some triggers
We gotta come you know dat Devil shit is still up in us
We Mafia Niggaz We Mafia Niggaz
[Lord Infamous]
So damn wicked got some shit you bitches never saw
I caught you shakin sawed off's pumpin now'll we'll break the law
I cut the air off where you breath while I'm blazin on these trees
The ? I get from these trees'll take your leg up off
You chokin from exhaust
You lost up in the sauce
You stand against the wall
Don't play wit Lord at all
You dealin wit some now you pissin down your leg
and got a gun against your head you know dis lead is for a bloody brawl
I'm tryna go for boss
Prepare for Holocaust
I got moss and when I toss it will get em off
I'm dirty for the cause
Bitch don't you hit the pause
I'll lock you bitches in the icebox wit it full of frost
Bitch don't you know that when I'm hi I leave a dimple
Cock back dis pistol then I'll pop you like a pimple
I got the tunes in the stones
In your home wit the chrome
You alone and the rest is very simple
[Chorus]
[Crunchy Black]
Ain't no nigga goin play wit me
Play wit me my nigga I'ma lay you in the streets
All I came for is cheese nigga dat's hard to believe
I'ma lock and unload and make your bitch ass bleed
Let ya'll know dat I came wit some shit up my sleeve
Know what I mean my nigga It's only Jus me
Slip dat knife down my sleeve
Slope you dead in your heart
Wit only dat sick shit don't get shit started
[DJ Paul]
Now ever since we done came dem hataz didn't play no joke
Try to bounce to the crib
I shot around in dey home
I'm bustin rugaz
wit some lugaz
Do ya
Nigga I'ma send em straight through ya
School ya
Bout dis bidness
Bout these boys
Ya bout to witness wit these toys
[Juicy "J"]
Wit dem toys yeah we got em
Make the noise when we cock em
Guaranteed to kill and rob em
Stopped em wit the sawed off shotgun
Niggaz in the street dey found em
On dat dog food and Vodka
So much dope the blood was toxic
And the mind is pure psychotic
[Chorus (fades out)]
Writer: Jordan Houston, Paul Beauregard
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Hook Up W/Hoes (Skit)
[Juicy J] A I got some hoes from tha ATL you need to roll wit me mane they going
[DJ Paul] Man I can't even do nothing I going to England in the morning damn
[Girl]
Hello
[DJ Paul]
What's up what you doing
[Girl]
Nothing Much
[DJ Paul]
I'll be there about 10 of them so you'll know when I get there
[Girl]
Ok see you there (girl)
[DJ Paul] Man I can't even do nothing I going to England in the morning damn
[Girl]
Hello
[DJ Paul]
What's up what you doing
[Girl]
Nothing Much
[DJ Paul]
I'll be there about 10 of them so you'll know when I get there
[Girl]
Ok see you there (girl)
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
From Da Back
[Chorus:]
[D.J. Paul]
You dealing with some thugs
who like to hit it from the back (back)
with no kind of springs attached
what you think about that shorty
[Gangsta Boo]
You dealing with some bitches
who like cheese up front (front)
get down on your knees up front
now what you think about that baby
[D.J. Paul]
You dealing with some thugs
who like to hit it from the back (back)
with no kind of springs attached
what you think about that shorty
[Gangsta Boo]
You dealing with some bitches
who like cheese up front (front)
get down on your knees up front
now what you think about that baby
[Verse 1:]
[Gangsta Boo]
Nigga please
im hotter than 100 degrees
poppy in me
but sex don't come until we come to our knees
gimme' yo' cheese
before I get my niggas and weed
flatten you out
take care of that
that's how it be baby
me and my girls cost to much for you nigga
extra nigga in the Jag
can you get with me nigga
Hell No!
Im the bitch wit the chronic that's getting high
Makin' money, lookin funny
when I f*ck on you guys
damn right! Im the bitch of da night
no matter what
thugged out
and some shirt
short jeans
a big butt
what you see when im walking on by
I see you lookin
whether male or female
you in I see you lookin'
(Bigger pussy)
When im packin' yo' nigga
you know the taste
At the "S" it's 99'
you serve me wit' cha' face nigga
you know we did it
you be trickin' like daddy
oops I spilled the beans baby
I be braggin' like this
have ya heard ?
[Repeat Chorus]
[D.J. Paul]
I seen em' coming out the club
drop the posse
walk me down
barely able to stand up
barely able to fall down
Hanging in the bathroom
with my dogs
it's all about two balls
now I need a warm cup
for a dick and two balls
It's Paul
in a Jag
but ain't bout' to brag
Im trying to grab a little hot somethin, skattely wag
some bout it
some down it
Stray ghetto ass ho!
Some ready for war!
Cause hittin it boy
will make your ass go!
All motherf*cking night dont play
Drop yo' jawphones, it's on, cause this dick on my leg
Y'all niggas want a real dicksucker
come Down South
make you say
"Damn, Grey you still eat with that mouth"!
Then she turned over, caught dripping like a faucet
I called my dog Too Sway cause this ho about to toss it
Im f*cking wit chu, cause you f*cked wit me!
And caught this christian in a bad little somethin to my whole weed
(Whole Weed)!
[Repeat Chorus]
[Juicy "J"]
First my nigga call the freak
tell her she got dick to eat
balls and all standin tall
dont forget the jack "a" me
tell her five dope we keep
opt a move as just a sweep
heard she liked it from da back
in the back from toronsy
Paul said she wants to blow
with bad (bitch) week we cut off her
I don't wanna hit the jump
Grab my 8.0 we'll get her drunk
"My nigg, what chu' waitin on" ?
"Hey let me use that other phone"
"F*ck that, she got skit to hit
Im'a call that ho while she at home"
"Hello" ?
"What's the bidness bitch" ?
"Who is this" ?
"Mister Dick" !!!
"Im bout' to come and scoop you up" !
"For what" ?
"For what the f*ck, the click"
My dog said you got the clams
silicon wit the ass
don't even need a bag
to hide your face
to sit you down !
Rumors say you turn em' out
In da car, or on da couch!
Never hear em' yellin' ouch!
Dick and balls up in yo' mouth!
Grab my 8.0, (and in a hit)
Maybe you can bring you friend
"Do you niggas got that bluff"
"YA" !
[Repeat Chorus]
[Various sexual noises throughout end of song]
[Talking]
[D.J. Paul]
You dealing with some thugs
who like to hit it from the back (back)
with no kind of springs attached
what you think about that shorty
[Gangsta Boo]
You dealing with some bitches
who like cheese up front (front)
get down on your knees up front
now what you think about that baby
[D.J. Paul]
You dealing with some thugs
who like to hit it from the back (back)
with no kind of springs attached
what you think about that shorty
[Gangsta Boo]
You dealing with some bitches
who like cheese up front (front)
get down on your knees up front
now what you think about that baby
[Verse 1:]
[Gangsta Boo]
Nigga please
im hotter than 100 degrees
poppy in me
but sex don't come until we come to our knees
gimme' yo' cheese
before I get my niggas and weed
flatten you out
take care of that
that's how it be baby
me and my girls cost to much for you nigga
extra nigga in the Jag
can you get with me nigga
Hell No!
Im the bitch wit the chronic that's getting high
Makin' money, lookin funny
when I f*ck on you guys
damn right! Im the bitch of da night
no matter what
thugged out
and some shirt
short jeans
a big butt
what you see when im walking on by
I see you lookin
whether male or female
you in I see you lookin'
(Bigger pussy)
When im packin' yo' nigga
you know the taste
At the "S" it's 99'
you serve me wit' cha' face nigga
you know we did it
you be trickin' like daddy
oops I spilled the beans baby
I be braggin' like this
have ya heard ?
[Repeat Chorus]
[D.J. Paul]
I seen em' coming out the club
drop the posse
walk me down
barely able to stand up
barely able to fall down
Hanging in the bathroom
with my dogs
it's all about two balls
now I need a warm cup
for a dick and two balls
It's Paul
in a Jag
but ain't bout' to brag
Im trying to grab a little hot somethin, skattely wag
some bout it
some down it
Stray ghetto ass ho!
Some ready for war!
Cause hittin it boy
will make your ass go!
All motherf*cking night dont play
Drop yo' jawphones, it's on, cause this dick on my leg
Y'all niggas want a real dicksucker
come Down South
make you say
"Damn, Grey you still eat with that mouth"!
Then she turned over, caught dripping like a faucet
I called my dog Too Sway cause this ho about to toss it
Im f*cking wit chu, cause you f*cked wit me!
And caught this christian in a bad little somethin to my whole weed
(Whole Weed)!
[Repeat Chorus]
[Juicy "J"]
First my nigga call the freak
tell her she got dick to eat
balls and all standin tall
dont forget the jack "a" me
tell her five dope we keep
opt a move as just a sweep
heard she liked it from da back
in the back from toronsy
Paul said she wants to blow
with bad (bitch) week we cut off her
I don't wanna hit the jump
Grab my 8.0 we'll get her drunk
"My nigg, what chu' waitin on" ?
"Hey let me use that other phone"
"F*ck that, she got skit to hit
Im'a call that ho while she at home"
"Hello" ?
"What's the bidness bitch" ?
"Who is this" ?
"Mister Dick" !!!
"Im bout' to come and scoop you up" !
"For what" ?
"For what the f*ck, the click"
My dog said you got the clams
silicon wit the ass
don't even need a bag
to hide your face
to sit you down !
Rumors say you turn em' out
In da car, or on da couch!
Never hear em' yellin' ouch!
Dick and balls up in yo' mouth!
Grab my 8.0, (and in a hit)
Maybe you can bring you friend
"Do you niggas got that bluff"
"YA" !
[Repeat Chorus]
[Various sexual noises throughout end of song]
[Talking]
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Fuck Y'all Hoes
[Talking-D.J Paul and Juicy "J"]
[Chorus 1:]
[Juicy "J'']
If you ain't claiming G-D
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming V-L
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Crips Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bloods Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming BHZ
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming North Memphis
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Orange Mound
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Southpark
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Lord Infamous (Scarecrow)]
Bitch we are entertainers
We warfare trainers
We ain't gangbangers
But we will make you famous
I show you falling hoes
I show you slippin' slopes
I show you swiss I knows
I dangling from the rows
You top that tokeo
Up in the studio
But in the streets they ho
You cool they diff but so...
But if he eat the coke
And wanna go for broke
Let's get them guns out ho, I thank you f*cking former ho !
[D.J. Paul]
I can fight this nigga
I can whoop this nigga
I can [Gun loading] [Gun Shots]
BOOM! With the trigger
I can rob this boy, I can mob this boy
I can call a f*cking killer, do a job on this boy
I can make this fool, I can rape this fool
I can get them off my five o-clock or ten o-clock news
I can lend a helping hand
I can be your f*cking friend
I can leave his body stankin' in a Kroger garbage can
[Chorus 2:]
If you ain't claiming Hollywood
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Walker Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Foot Home
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Walter Simmons
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Smokey City
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Evergreen
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming LMG
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Dixie Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Gangsta Boo]
Don't play with the Hypnotize C-A-M-P (A-C)
Blowin' small balls nigga feel me
MAYBE!
I be what chu' call the first lady
Triple Six put me through the doors getting money
Now you
Jelous-Ass-Bitches in my face
Tryin take my shit out of place
(you be steppin' bitch)
I be on some Hennesy
Mixed with some Alizae
Smokin' on some hay
On my way
On that plat "A"
("A")
[D.J. Paul]
Im hittin on some small niggas
(that rob niggas)
Smoke coke
(With big mob figures)
That star niggas
In P-Agg ya
Get em' recorded they own pictures
Im takin' puss, and dankin' drankin'
Drank wit warning niggas
I poke them stagged up
And round wit trick a heavy niggas
Im talkin ski-mask
Engage up out of the back seat niggas
Pull the triggers
And I keep a tone, world-rone
Dangers on, Hustle grown
Sippin' on, Burn a post
Papers on, but still im home
[Chorus 3:]
If you ain't claiming New Chicago
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Roxy Brown
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Pussy Valley
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Fowler Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Douglas Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Trig Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Mclemore
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bunker Hill
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Koopsta Knicca]
No issues
You think this kid f*cked up the f*cking problem
Bitch you don't know that Koopsta Knicca is a murder robber
Got yo motherf*cking brother in the back seat
Sweat drippin' off his neck
Son of bitch you don't know me
"KOOPSTA"
I kinda hear the whispers in his f*cking bed
"KNICCA"
And you think you got that strip
Than why don't you get with him
And if you wanna stress me
Grab my 8.0 is you dead
Say "Mister cum a dress ya"
Koopsta got em' scared!!!
[Chorus 4:]
If you ain't claiming Hyde Park
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Ridge Grove
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Ridge Crest
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bartlett Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Germantown
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't naming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Chorus 1:]
[Juicy "J'']
If you ain't claiming G-D
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming V-L
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Crips Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bloods Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming BHZ
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming North Memphis
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Orange Mound
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Southpark
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Lord Infamous (Scarecrow)]
Bitch we are entertainers
We warfare trainers
We ain't gangbangers
But we will make you famous
I show you falling hoes
I show you slippin' slopes
I show you swiss I knows
I dangling from the rows
You top that tokeo
Up in the studio
But in the streets they ho
You cool they diff but so...
But if he eat the coke
And wanna go for broke
Let's get them guns out ho, I thank you f*cking former ho !
[D.J. Paul]
I can fight this nigga
I can whoop this nigga
I can [Gun loading] [Gun Shots]
BOOM! With the trigger
I can rob this boy, I can mob this boy
I can call a f*cking killer, do a job on this boy
I can make this fool, I can rape this fool
I can get them off my five o-clock or ten o-clock news
I can lend a helping hand
I can be your f*cking friend
I can leave his body stankin' in a Kroger garbage can
[Chorus 2:]
If you ain't claiming Hollywood
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Walker Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Foot Home
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Walter Simmons
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Smokey City
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Evergreen
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming LMG
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Dixie Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Gangsta Boo]
Don't play with the Hypnotize C-A-M-P (A-C)
Blowin' small balls nigga feel me
MAYBE!
I be what chu' call the first lady
Triple Six put me through the doors getting money
Now you
Jelous-Ass-Bitches in my face
Tryin take my shit out of place
(you be steppin' bitch)
I be on some Hennesy
Mixed with some Alizae
Smokin' on some hay
On my way
On that plat "A"
("A")
[D.J. Paul]
Im hittin on some small niggas
(that rob niggas)
Smoke coke
(With big mob figures)
That star niggas
In P-Agg ya
Get em' recorded they own pictures
Im takin' puss, and dankin' drankin'
Drank wit warning niggas
I poke them stagged up
And round wit trick a heavy niggas
Im talkin ski-mask
Engage up out of the back seat niggas
Pull the triggers
And I keep a tone, world-rone
Dangers on, Hustle grown
Sippin' on, Burn a post
Papers on, but still im home
[Chorus 3:]
If you ain't claiming New Chicago
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Roxy Brown
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Pussy Valley
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Fowler Homes
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Douglas Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Trig Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Mclemore
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bunker Hill
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
[Koopsta Knicca]
No issues
You think this kid f*cked up the f*cking problem
Bitch you don't know that Koopsta Knicca is a murder robber
Got yo motherf*cking brother in the back seat
Sweat drippin' off his neck
Son of bitch you don't know me
"KOOPSTA"
I kinda hear the whispers in his f*cking bed
"KNICCA"
And you think you got that strip
Than why don't you get with him
And if you wanna stress me
Grab my 8.0 is you dead
Say "Mister cum a dress ya"
Koopsta got em' scared!!!
[Chorus 4:]
If you ain't claiming Hyde Park
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Ridge Grove
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Ridge Crest
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Bartlett Then
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming Germantown
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't claiming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
If you ain't naming
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
(FUCK Y'ALL HOES)
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Where Da Cheese At
[DJ Paul]
Hey man, put the needle on the record man
Let's bump some of this motherf*cking Crunchy Black
This shit bump dog
[Crunchy Black in Who Run It]
This motherf*cking room (static)
I can't take (static)
Tossed Out, These Bitches (static)
I'm bout to Overload
I'm bout to kill a boy
All I [record scratch 3x]
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
Keep it easy, you don't wanna get speedy
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
Lay, lay, lay on yo back
Lay, lay on yo back
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All On this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
[Crunchy Black]
Yeah I rob, Yeah I steal
Yeah I put ya body in a field
I ain't fakin no deal, just tryin to get a meal
Hustlin out here, understand my skill
This money gotta be made, made to the grave
Till death do us part, somebody gotta pay
Pay what they way, pay what they make
Don't makes no difference, I gotta get paid
Nigga, hustlin, out here on the streets
Tip toe down nigga, I ain't tryin to be beat
Like a hoe out here, like hustlin the street
Tryin to get her somethin so her pimp can eat
Ain't nothin goin on but the money and the power
Got one in the chamber for you weak ass cowards
If you keep talkin shit, I'mma come and get ya
CB is my name, and I ain't playin wit ya bitches
[Crunchy Black in Who Run It]
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
Hey man, put the needle on the record man
Let's bump some of this motherf*cking Crunchy Black
This shit bump dog
[Crunchy Black in Who Run It]
This motherf*cking room (static)
I can't take (static)
Tossed Out, These Bitches (static)
I'm bout to Overload
I'm bout to kill a boy
All I [record scratch 3x]
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
Keep it easy, you don't wanna get speedy
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
Lay, lay, lay on yo back
Lay, lay on yo back
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All On this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
[Crunchy Black]
Yeah I rob, Yeah I steal
Yeah I put ya body in a field
I ain't fakin no deal, just tryin to get a meal
Hustlin out here, understand my skill
This money gotta be made, made to the grave
Till death do us part, somebody gotta pay
Pay what they way, pay what they make
Don't makes no difference, I gotta get paid
Nigga, hustlin, out here on the streets
Tip toe down nigga, I ain't tryin to be beat
Like a hoe out here, like hustlin the street
Tryin to get her somethin so her pimp can eat
Ain't nothin goin on but the money and the power
Got one in the chamber for you weak ass cowards
If you keep talkin shit, I'mma come and get ya
CB is my name, and I ain't playin wit ya bitches
[Crunchy Black in Who Run It]
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All I wanna know is where the cheese at
Where the ki's at
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
All on this motherf*cking room, nigga boom
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Tongue Ring
[Talking]
Hey we gonna do a song called Tongue Ring
Let me feel your Tongue Ring, is it rusty, hahaha
[Chorus One: D.J. Paul]
Let me feel your tongue ring, let me see
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring, let me see
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
[Juicy 'J']
Me and my niggas try yo' bitch
Stole the price and stang yo' bitch
All you did was take a shot
And ball the fist to close the fist
Kiss it at the mall to mill
Hold the hands and love the shit
Hope you ain't no essency
Don't you know she used to trick
Open the door to pop the crespt
To take your time to f*cking sex
I never would a will a swept
Knowing she'd be chewing paint
All my boys the more the better
Not a week but when you met her
Spits the swallow while she asks
Thats as if you gon' eat me now
[D.J. Paul]
Now nigga (nigga) what ?
What the f*ck ?
Im all about them freaky hoes
That like to suck
Them brawls wit' them booty blowin'
Now thats the bidness
I let this kinda camera for show
Be my witness
Them boys wit the can't block it
Get them round
Wit' them boys that can't rock it
Drink some crown wit it
Niggas wit some videos
Or some college hoes
That playin' hard to get
But they the freakiest (freakiest)
[Chorus Two: DJ Paul]
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
[Gangsta Boo]
I be f*cking this nigga
Straight corruping this nigga
Pussy wet as a river
You need a boat for me nigga
I be hot as a fire
Oh my God I'm on fire
I be tellin' these boys
I do my thang when I'm higher
Come on baby just lay down
Or to bed with me baby
I be triple the playin'
The triple pleasure im sayin'
I be comin' with cha'
If your freaky like me
If your freaky, im sneaky
Hey undercover watch me
Strawberries and ice
Not the ice on yo' wrist
Got yo' niggas dick brick
See me rubbin' my clit
(rubbin' rubbin' my clit)
Suckin' (suckin') my tits
Camcorder got me staring high
In my first click
I be major with mine, I don't f*ck all the time
I don't need you, please believe me
Nigga only when I'm in the mood for a quick
A quick ride on the dick
Through a razor in my mouth
Straight slicin' yo' shit
NIGGA !!!
[Repeat Chorus 2]
[Chrunchy Black]
Dis' Bitch, dat ho (ho)
Let me see you pussy ho
Soakin' f*ckin' wet
Nigga tryin' to play some fat
Oldy, freaky, hood rat type of ho
Nigga don't you know all hoes ?
Go easy
F*ckin' cum easy
F*ckin' go see me
Nigga f*ckin' ho bout' a train bro'
All nigga, all boy, take off yo' f*ckin' hat
Let these ho put cap in yo lap (jack)
[Lord Infamous]
Fornified pleasure girl
Lickin' every measure girl
Tryin' to find a tresure girl
Nigga it's whatever girl
Bitch i'll take you round' the world
Lick ya dick, a talk ya twirl
All to know ya' toes will curl
And then your dick will start to hurl
Talk like I f*ck her in da butt
Nigga it ain't hard to cut
Wait untill she sittin' up
Just waitin' to lick a nigga nuts
Quickly gettin' naked
Skinny dick, she'll strecth it
Pussy stayin' wet, and she loves when niggas rake it
[Koopsta Knicca]
So did it bitches
Pretty bitches
Freaky bitches
I've had those sticky bitches
Grand there thin, all on the flow wit' bitches
Them goin' bitches
Hoein bitches
Blowin' bitches
Mad at the stoned up bitches
Flowin' bitches
Some sort of rollin' bitches
Scary bitches
Plenty bitches
Hairy bitches
Even the smelly bitches
Ready bitches
Beat up the deadly bitches
Say what ?
To tear up the ugly bitches bout' the news
Koopsta my bloodshed bullsucker
Bitch you gon' feel the nooooise !
Hey we gonna do a song called Tongue Ring
Let me feel your Tongue Ring, is it rusty, hahaha
[Chorus One: D.J. Paul]
Let me feel your tongue ring, let me see
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring, let me see
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
[Juicy 'J']
Me and my niggas try yo' bitch
Stole the price and stang yo' bitch
All you did was take a shot
And ball the fist to close the fist
Kiss it at the mall to mill
Hold the hands and love the shit
Hope you ain't no essency
Don't you know she used to trick
Open the door to pop the crespt
To take your time to f*cking sex
I never would a will a swept
Knowing she'd be chewing paint
All my boys the more the better
Not a week but when you met her
Spits the swallow while she asks
Thats as if you gon' eat me now
[D.J. Paul]
Now nigga (nigga) what ?
What the f*ck ?
Im all about them freaky hoes
That like to suck
Them brawls wit' them booty blowin'
Now thats the bidness
I let this kinda camera for show
Be my witness
Them boys wit the can't block it
Get them round
Wit' them boys that can't rock it
Drink some crown wit it
Niggas wit some videos
Or some college hoes
That playin' hard to get
But they the freakiest (freakiest)
[Chorus Two: DJ Paul]
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me feel your tongue ring
Let me see let me see Let me feel your tongue ring
[Gangsta Boo]
I be f*cking this nigga
Straight corruping this nigga
Pussy wet as a river
You need a boat for me nigga
I be hot as a fire
Oh my God I'm on fire
I be tellin' these boys
I do my thang when I'm higher
Come on baby just lay down
Or to bed with me baby
I be triple the playin'
The triple pleasure im sayin'
I be comin' with cha'
If your freaky like me
If your freaky, im sneaky
Hey undercover watch me
Strawberries and ice
Not the ice on yo' wrist
Got yo' niggas dick brick
See me rubbin' my clit
(rubbin' rubbin' my clit)
Suckin' (suckin') my tits
Camcorder got me staring high
In my first click
I be major with mine, I don't f*ck all the time
I don't need you, please believe me
Nigga only when I'm in the mood for a quick
A quick ride on the dick
Through a razor in my mouth
Straight slicin' yo' shit
NIGGA !!!
[Repeat Chorus 2]
[Chrunchy Black]
Dis' Bitch, dat ho (ho)
Let me see you pussy ho
Soakin' f*ckin' wet
Nigga tryin' to play some fat
Oldy, freaky, hood rat type of ho
Nigga don't you know all hoes ?
Go easy
F*ckin' cum easy
F*ckin' go see me
Nigga f*ckin' ho bout' a train bro'
All nigga, all boy, take off yo' f*ckin' hat
Let these ho put cap in yo lap (jack)
[Lord Infamous]
Fornified pleasure girl
Lickin' every measure girl
Tryin' to find a tresure girl
Nigga it's whatever girl
Bitch i'll take you round' the world
Lick ya dick, a talk ya twirl
All to know ya' toes will curl
And then your dick will start to hurl
Talk like I f*ck her in da butt
Nigga it ain't hard to cut
Wait untill she sittin' up
Just waitin' to lick a nigga nuts
Quickly gettin' naked
Skinny dick, she'll strecth it
Pussy stayin' wet, and she loves when niggas rake it
[Koopsta Knicca]
So did it bitches
Pretty bitches
Freaky bitches
I've had those sticky bitches
Grand there thin, all on the flow wit' bitches
Them goin' bitches
Hoein bitches
Blowin' bitches
Mad at the stoned up bitches
Flowin' bitches
Some sort of rollin' bitches
Scary bitches
Plenty bitches
Hairy bitches
Even the smelly bitches
Ready bitches
Beat up the deadly bitches
Say what ?
To tear up the ugly bitches bout' the news
Koopsta my bloodshed bullsucker
Bitch you gon' feel the nooooise !
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Barrin You Bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[DJ Paul]
My nigga silent night, deadly night
That's when I start when I start creepin' like a hitman
Scope my man then I toss the dynamite
Bitches yall ain't got the guns
Bitches yall ain't got the funds
F*ckin' around with Three to Six I'll make you niggas duck and run
Hoes this ain't no game I'm playin'
I'm sayin', I'm fed up with you boys
Crunchy catch that trick back on that-ways he still remeber them punks
Straight hoe nigga, flat broke nigga
Make his eyes close I drop you niggas like I drop my hoes
[Gangsta Boo]
I say we marchin' and steppin', plenty weapons we packin'
Why you haters be lackin' always dissin' with rappin'
How you bumpin' our shit then you turn around an you diss?
You wouldn't want to step we been in this shit you rookie bitch
Let me see who it be..shh pysch boy
I ain't sayin your name you know who you are Lil' Boy
In my time I saw faces, people of shades and races
People nail me to crosses like I'm Jesus you Satan
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[Juicy J]
Now I ain't f*cked up bout these niggas dissin'
Cause a nigga givin these blessings
See you like a dog you fetching, starin at a f*ckin' weapon
Know your momma taught you better, never try to diss a player
Maybe I can kill you now or stall around and kill you later
Probably I should call the boys
Tell them to bring them toys
We gonna bust them bitches and fold them up like aluminium foil
And keep loadin them guns
Takin em one by one
Throwin' up sets and snappin' necks until the job is done
[Lord Infamous]
Take em' on a lyrical holocaust
Infamous is just our mafia boss
Nigga walk around with his head blown off
Call me the wicked ass lord of farce
Nigga one look and get his ass ripped apart
Infamous coke has got no heart
Coming through the hoe ain't no motherf*ckin boss
Fall to the earth ?
Hoes be froze in a permanent dose
These bitches blow me outta their clothes
Call me the nigga with the dirty nose
That will unload a 44 up to the foes
Ain't no playin with you motherf*ckin hoes
Let's throw that rope but you hoes don't know
But the infamous know you
So and So and Toe and Toe I take the flow
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[Koopsta Knicca]
Ahh... ? dress up on my head see, heard dat?
Ask motherf*ckin' scared nigga hell yeah
Jumped up out the bed cause no sofa bed bitch ya heard?
? 4 clickas ain't going out like no bitch
Ain't no ? out this place like that fog up in my face
Ain't no rollin' like no sissy
Ain't no busta bitch, OK?
Grab that gat cocked and handle like they think that I'm crazed
So hit in their the face like a third grader on acid
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[DJ Paul]
My nigga silent night, deadly night
That's when I start when I start creepin' like a hitman
Scope my man then I toss the dynamite
Bitches yall ain't got the guns
Bitches yall ain't got the funds
F*ckin' around with Three to Six I'll make you niggas duck and run
Hoes this ain't no game I'm playin'
I'm sayin', I'm fed up with you boys
Crunchy catch that trick back on that-ways he still remeber them punks
Straight hoe nigga, flat broke nigga
Make his eyes close I drop you niggas like I drop my hoes
[Gangsta Boo]
I say we marchin' and steppin', plenty weapons we packin'
Why you haters be lackin' always dissin' with rappin'
How you bumpin' our shit then you turn around an you diss?
You wouldn't want to step we been in this shit you rookie bitch
Let me see who it be..shh pysch boy
I ain't sayin your name you know who you are Lil' Boy
In my time I saw faces, people of shades and races
People nail me to crosses like I'm Jesus you Satan
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[Juicy J]
Now I ain't f*cked up bout these niggas dissin'
Cause a nigga givin these blessings
See you like a dog you fetching, starin at a f*ckin' weapon
Know your momma taught you better, never try to diss a player
Maybe I can kill you now or stall around and kill you later
Probably I should call the boys
Tell them to bring them toys
We gonna bust them bitches and fold them up like aluminium foil
And keep loadin them guns
Takin em one by one
Throwin' up sets and snappin' necks until the job is done
[Lord Infamous]
Take em' on a lyrical holocaust
Infamous is just our mafia boss
Nigga walk around with his head blown off
Call me the wicked ass lord of farce
Nigga one look and get his ass ripped apart
Infamous coke has got no heart
Coming through the hoe ain't no motherf*ckin boss
Fall to the earth ?
Hoes be froze in a permanent dose
These bitches blow me outta their clothes
Call me the nigga with the dirty nose
That will unload a 44 up to the foes
Ain't no playin with you motherf*ckin hoes
Let's throw that rope but you hoes don't know
But the infamous know you
So and So and Toe and Toe I take the flow
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
[Koopsta Knicca]
Ahh... ? dress up on my head see, heard dat?
Ask motherf*ckin' scared nigga hell yeah
Jumped up out the bed cause no sofa bed bitch ya heard?
? 4 clickas ain't going out like no bitch
Ain't no ? out this place like that fog up in my face
Ain't no rollin' like no sissy
Ain't no busta bitch, OK?
Grab that gat cocked and handle like they think that I'm crazed
So hit in their the face like a third grader on acid
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty f*cked I can't be barrin' you bitches
I'm staying crunk I'm plenty drunk I can't be barrin' you bitches
These boys ain't wild I'll f*ck them cowards stick them bitches for riches
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Whatcha Know
[Juicy J (Big Gipp)]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Three 6 Mafia (Here it is)
Know what I'm sayin'
Goodie Mob (Triple Six Mafia)
ATL (Big Gipp)
M-town connection (Man)
What you know about that?
(You can't ask fo' no mo')
What you know? What you know?
(I'ma hit ya back)
What you know?
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together) (2x)]
What you know? What you know?
'Bout the B's, bout that O
'Bout these streets, 'bout this 9
'Bout these niggaz doin' time
What you know? What you know?
Bout the kickin' in the do'
Layin' suckers on the flo'
Gettin' low down with the dope
[Lord Infamous]
In Memphis, I'm a felonist, don't f*ck with ghetto presidents
Run up in your residence, gather all the evidence
Murder list is specialist, clickin' on this medicine
Unloadin' a Tec in this, hang you by your neck-a-lace
All in for the blessedness, Lord Infamous reck-a-less
Mobbin', I'm the messiest, best, there is no testin' this
Hellraiser, I'm hookin' 'em, four star chef, I'm cookin' 'em
Like that, now I'm bookin' 'em, slash they eyes out look at 'em
[Crunchy Black]
What you know about killaz, what you know about dealers
What you know about niggaz that live fake, know I'm for real-a
What you know about bitches, what you know about clickin'
One in the chamber so nigga now you know I'm out to get ya
What you know about reobbin', what you know about mobbin'
Mobbin' all through the hood nigga doin' my job 'n
I ain't tryin' to be starvin', I'm just leg over barbin'
Poppin' shots at your head, nigga doin' my job 'n
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together) (2x)]
[Juicy J]
Juciy always be gamin', keep that roast to the flame 'n
Slangin' dope in the Grove, all the way to Black Haven
Call your boy on the cell, if you want somethin', hail
We got prostitutes and whitey-white just tryin' to make mail
Have you been to the North, Memphis where I be stayin'
Where them golds, they be shinin', nothin' but smiles on they faces
Always stumblin', rumblin', keep the freaky hoes comin'
If they wanna suck the dick, we put that nut in they stomach
[DJ Paul]
Ain't no problem that's to big, nigga f*cked up 'bout no task
Two of them coloreds with them masks, sawed-off pumps for mega-blast
Forty-thousand, one in the chamber, buck artila for gettin' his own man
Nigga I'm my own man, never catch me runnin' from no man
It's so strange, the look on you face that does not bring
Or brings it to doors lane, put blood on your close lane
Your eyes be like closin', hoes from head to toes 'n
F*ck 'round with the chosen, got you stiff like posin'
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together, Big Gipp sings) (2x)]
[Big Gipp (Juicy J)]
Don't give a f*ck, I'm stayin' slizzard
Tough like chicken gizzards, strickly 'Cardi, wizard
Pill popper, afro, straight blowed
Corner coves, what I'm talkin', what you know
'Bout that girl, 'bout that boy, keep that nose itchin'
Skin scrachin', junkies steady bitchin'
I can't feel it, nigga please, stop that actin', cough it up
4 for the 5, is what I'm sellin', sawed-off 12 'n started bailin'
Kickin' do's, snatchin' clothes, catchin' hoes, gettin' cases
Sittin' in the country thinkin' about my money on vacation
This for the ones that love the club pop, sip-sip
Gipp dip, In a ho, in the jail, rollin' crip
Keep it crackin', keep it throwed, who shot first, nobody knows
How it goes, what you know, 'bout these streets I'm down fo'
(ATL...)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Three 6 Mafia (Here it is)
Know what I'm sayin'
Goodie Mob (Triple Six Mafia)
ATL (Big Gipp)
M-town connection (Man)
What you know about that?
(You can't ask fo' no mo')
What you know? What you know?
(I'ma hit ya back)
What you know?
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together) (2x)]
What you know? What you know?
'Bout the B's, bout that O
'Bout these streets, 'bout this 9
'Bout these niggaz doin' time
What you know? What you know?
Bout the kickin' in the do'
Layin' suckers on the flo'
Gettin' low down with the dope
[Lord Infamous]
In Memphis, I'm a felonist, don't f*ck with ghetto presidents
Run up in your residence, gather all the evidence
Murder list is specialist, clickin' on this medicine
Unloadin' a Tec in this, hang you by your neck-a-lace
All in for the blessedness, Lord Infamous reck-a-less
Mobbin', I'm the messiest, best, there is no testin' this
Hellraiser, I'm hookin' 'em, four star chef, I'm cookin' 'em
Like that, now I'm bookin' 'em, slash they eyes out look at 'em
[Crunchy Black]
What you know about killaz, what you know about dealers
What you know about niggaz that live fake, know I'm for real-a
What you know about bitches, what you know about clickin'
One in the chamber so nigga now you know I'm out to get ya
What you know about reobbin', what you know about mobbin'
Mobbin' all through the hood nigga doin' my job 'n
I ain't tryin' to be starvin', I'm just leg over barbin'
Poppin' shots at your head, nigga doin' my job 'n
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together) (2x)]
[Juicy J]
Juciy always be gamin', keep that roast to the flame 'n
Slangin' dope in the Grove, all the way to Black Haven
Call your boy on the cell, if you want somethin', hail
We got prostitutes and whitey-white just tryin' to make mail
Have you been to the North, Memphis where I be stayin'
Where them golds, they be shinin', nothin' but smiles on they faces
Always stumblin', rumblin', keep the freaky hoes comin'
If they wanna suck the dick, we put that nut in they stomach
[DJ Paul]
Ain't no problem that's to big, nigga f*cked up 'bout no task
Two of them coloreds with them masks, sawed-off pumps for mega-blast
Forty-thousand, one in the chamber, buck artila for gettin' his own man
Nigga I'm my own man, never catch me runnin' from no man
It's so strange, the look on you face that does not bring
Or brings it to doors lane, put blood on your close lane
Your eyes be like closin', hoes from head to toes 'n
F*ck 'round with the chosen, got you stiff like posin'
[Chorus: DJ Paul & Big Gipp (together, Big Gipp sings) (2x)]
[Big Gipp (Juicy J)]
Don't give a f*ck, I'm stayin' slizzard
Tough like chicken gizzards, strickly 'Cardi, wizard
Pill popper, afro, straight blowed
Corner coves, what I'm talkin', what you know
'Bout that girl, 'bout that boy, keep that nose itchin'
Skin scrachin', junkies steady bitchin'
I can't feel it, nigga please, stop that actin', cough it up
4 for the 5, is what I'm sellin', sawed-off 12 'n started bailin'
Kickin' do's, snatchin' clothes, catchin' hoes, gettin' cases
Sittin' in the country thinkin' about my money on vacation
This for the ones that love the club pop, sip-sip
Gipp dip, In a ho, in the jail, rollin' crip
Keep it crackin', keep it throwed, who shot first, nobody knows
How it goes, what you know, 'bout these streets I'm down fo'
(ATL...)
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Act Like You Know Me (Point 'Em Out)
[Three 6 Mafia]
There's some cowards in this thang, if you see em point em out [4X]
There's some cowards in the South, If you see em point em out [4X]
[Juicy J]
Act like you know me, when I tell that I'm from the North
Act like you know me, when I ask ya let me hit the shorts
Act like you know me, if I holla and front ya boy a ki
Act like you know me, when I'm on the track in evergreen
Act like you know me, when you see the platinum on my wrist
Act like you know me, when you know that I done took yo bitch
Act like you know me, if you know that I been husslin'
Act like you know me, rock for rock the record business man
Act like you know me, if I pull the strap and bring the pain
Act like you know me, if you see me on them twanky thangs
Act like you know me, when that fire shit is all we smoke
Act like you know me, if I tell ya nigga hit this dope
Act like you know me, when I'm winnin in this dice game
Act like you know me, if I tell yo' hoe dont touch the grain
Act like you know me, if I tell you niggas bring it on
Act like you know me, point'n in yo face a f*ckin tone
[Chorus]
[DJ Paul]
Act like you know me, cause I'm armed with guns and ready to bum
Act like you know me, cause I bring the war like Vietnam
Act like you know me, when you see me cruising were you lay
Act like you know me, cause with bitches I dont f*cking play
Act like you know me, cause I'm super serious with this evil
Act like you know me, in my Regal - chrome desert eagle
Act like you know me, I hate say it but when I'm on some blow
Act like you know, I turn gorilla might rape a hoe
Act like you know me, I'm from straight f*cking Black Hav.
Act like you know, that I bet that I blow that I aint afraid
Act like you know me, 'fore you say that on yo CD's
Act like you know, once before I caught you in the streets
Act like you know me, cause these bullets know no f*cking name
Act like you know, I brought you in and take you out this game
Act like you heard of Triple Six is bout some bigger bussiness
Act like you heard if it's a murder, you can be the witness
[Lord Infamous]
Act like you know me, when you got pounds of the green dough
Act like you know me, when you want to hit the ski slopes
Act like you know me, when you got gallons of alcohol
Act like you know me, when you braking down the bowling balls
Act like know me, when you got a load of freak hoes
Act like you know me, when you got the pearl to touch her toes
Act like you know me, when I tell you that my name is Lord
Act like you know me, when I tell you Lord will cut your cords
[Crunchy Black]
Act like you know me, cause you know I like to wear black
Act like you know me, cause you know I like to tote a gat
Act like you know me, cause you know I pop up on ya set
Act like you know me, cause you know I came to get it wet
Act like you know me, cause you know you got to call the cops
Act like you know me, cause you know the f*cking blocks hot
Act like you know me, cause you know I took yo f*cking spot
Act like you know me, act like you know me nigga, NOT
[Gangsta Boo]
Act like you know me, got you niggas saying I'm the shit
Act like you know me, when you see me with my f*ckin clique
Act like you know me, when I creep and sneek up in yo house
Act like you know me, when you hear, I done cleaned the house
Act lke you know me, when I'm block'n cruis'n who she be
Act like you know me nigga, Gangsta Boo BHZ
Act like you know me, yo I'm real I'm trill, whatever nigga
Act like you know me, I be crazy lady, know that nigga
[Chorus]
There's some cowards in this thang, if you see em point em out [4X]
There's some cowards in the South, If you see em point em out [4X]
[Juicy J]
Act like you know me, when I tell that I'm from the North
Act like you know me, when I ask ya let me hit the shorts
Act like you know me, if I holla and front ya boy a ki
Act like you know me, when I'm on the track in evergreen
Act like you know me, when you see the platinum on my wrist
Act like you know me, when you know that I done took yo bitch
Act like you know me, if you know that I been husslin'
Act like you know me, rock for rock the record business man
Act like you know me, if I pull the strap and bring the pain
Act like you know me, if you see me on them twanky thangs
Act like you know me, when that fire shit is all we smoke
Act like you know me, if I tell ya nigga hit this dope
Act like you know me, when I'm winnin in this dice game
Act like you know me, if I tell yo' hoe dont touch the grain
Act like you know me, if I tell you niggas bring it on
Act like you know me, point'n in yo face a f*ckin tone
[Chorus]
[DJ Paul]
Act like you know me, cause I'm armed with guns and ready to bum
Act like you know me, cause I bring the war like Vietnam
Act like you know me, when you see me cruising were you lay
Act like you know me, cause with bitches I dont f*cking play
Act like you know me, cause I'm super serious with this evil
Act like you know me, in my Regal - chrome desert eagle
Act like you know me, I hate say it but when I'm on some blow
Act like you know, I turn gorilla might rape a hoe
Act like you know me, I'm from straight f*cking Black Hav.
Act like you know, that I bet that I blow that I aint afraid
Act like you know me, 'fore you say that on yo CD's
Act like you know, once before I caught you in the streets
Act like you know me, cause these bullets know no f*cking name
Act like you know, I brought you in and take you out this game
Act like you heard of Triple Six is bout some bigger bussiness
Act like you heard if it's a murder, you can be the witness
[Lord Infamous]
Act like you know me, when you got pounds of the green dough
Act like you know me, when you want to hit the ski slopes
Act like you know me, when you got gallons of alcohol
Act like you know me, when you braking down the bowling balls
Act like know me, when you got a load of freak hoes
Act like you know me, when you got the pearl to touch her toes
Act like you know me, when I tell you that my name is Lord
Act like you know me, when I tell you Lord will cut your cords
[Crunchy Black]
Act like you know me, cause you know I like to wear black
Act like you know me, cause you know I like to tote a gat
Act like you know me, cause you know I pop up on ya set
Act like you know me, cause you know I came to get it wet
Act like you know me, cause you know you got to call the cops
Act like you know me, cause you know the f*cking blocks hot
Act like you know me, cause you know I took yo f*cking spot
Act like you know me, act like you know me nigga, NOT
[Gangsta Boo]
Act like you know me, got you niggas saying I'm the shit
Act like you know me, when you see me with my f*ckin clique
Act like you know me, when I creep and sneek up in yo house
Act like you know me, when you hear, I done cleaned the house
Act lke you know me, when I'm block'n cruis'n who she be
Act like you know me nigga, Gangsta Boo BHZ
Act like you know me, yo I'm real I'm trill, whatever nigga
Act like you know me, I be crazy lady, know that nigga
[Chorus]
Writer: JORDAN MICHAEL HOUSTON, ORVILLE ERWIN HALL, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD, PHILLIP GLEN PRICE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Take A Bump
[Chours: Lord Infamous]
Break bre break bre breakout the dollar and take a bump
Pick out the seeds and spit the blunt
If you wanna get numb froze and slump
If you got what I want won't you give me some
[Juicy "J"]
How high can you get on that ?frendly fruit?(frendly fruit?)
How high can you get sippin gin and juice?(gin and juice)
How high can you get sittin next to me?(next to me)
How high can you get on that XTC ? (XTC)
How high can you get on the ball of snow?(ball of snow)
How high can you get wit a Optimo?(optimo)
How high can you get in a bathroom?(bathroom)
How high can you get in a class room?(classroom)
[DJ Paul]
Now how high can you get when you f*ck with that 6
Now how high can you get if you take a lil hit
Now how high can you get if you snort a lil bit
Bout as high as you was before you started lil bitch
Now how high can you get if you stomp the whole ground
I could answer that question you'll be as high as I am
Now how high can you get if you of a couple my tail
A designated driver need it cause you goin to jail dont play
[Chorus x2]
[Gangsta Boo]
Uh, The old Gangsta Boo would run up in yo house (for real)
Blackhaven style put the glock up to ya mouth (klack klack)
I'm trippin like this is an anna song
Crunchy Crazy Azz gotcha trippin on this weed bong
[Cruncy Blac]
Uh , Uh, Uh, You could trust me
sell you straight weed or some straight P
Lately I've Just been me nigga me nigga hate me
I be smokin on the f*ckin bud nigga lately
Now y'all gonna hate up on a thug
[Gangsta Boo]
Yo yo yo Yeah for real you be high like that,
snortin up the powder pack ,
pure white funky town take me where the chronic at
Tightcamafiacup? filled with hennessy and sprite
for all night hit me up 404 yeah right
[Crunchy Blac]
uh uh uh Nigga lately on ya f*ckin P milli me it be dank weed
Nigga cant you see cant you see
i be stumbilin thumbilin in the f*ckin street
I be crumbilin crumblin down the f*ckin weed nigga dank weed
[Chorus till fade]
Break bre break bre breakout the dollar and take a bump
Pick out the seeds and spit the blunt
If you wanna get numb froze and slump
If you got what I want won't you give me some
[Juicy "J"]
How high can you get on that ?frendly fruit?(frendly fruit?)
How high can you get sippin gin and juice?(gin and juice)
How high can you get sittin next to me?(next to me)
How high can you get on that XTC ? (XTC)
How high can you get on the ball of snow?(ball of snow)
How high can you get wit a Optimo?(optimo)
How high can you get in a bathroom?(bathroom)
How high can you get in a class room?(classroom)
[DJ Paul]
Now how high can you get when you f*ck with that 6
Now how high can you get if you take a lil hit
Now how high can you get if you snort a lil bit
Bout as high as you was before you started lil bitch
Now how high can you get if you stomp the whole ground
I could answer that question you'll be as high as I am
Now how high can you get if you of a couple my tail
A designated driver need it cause you goin to jail dont play
[Chorus x2]
[Gangsta Boo]
Uh, The old Gangsta Boo would run up in yo house (for real)
Blackhaven style put the glock up to ya mouth (klack klack)
I'm trippin like this is an anna song
Crunchy Crazy Azz gotcha trippin on this weed bong
[Cruncy Blac]
Uh , Uh, Uh, You could trust me
sell you straight weed or some straight P
Lately I've Just been me nigga me nigga hate me
I be smokin on the f*ckin bud nigga lately
Now y'all gonna hate up on a thug
[Gangsta Boo]
Yo yo yo Yeah for real you be high like that,
snortin up the powder pack ,
pure white funky town take me where the chronic at
Tightcamafiacup? filled with hennessy and sprite
for all night hit me up 404 yeah right
[Crunchy Blac]
uh uh uh Nigga lately on ya f*ckin P milli me it be dank weed
Nigga cant you see cant you see
i be stumbilin thumbilin in the f*ckin street
I be crumbilin crumblin down the f*ckin weed nigga dank weed
[Chorus till fade]
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Touched Wit It
[Serv-on]
Boy,I think this the second time you done passed up this sign
you goin'the wrong way main.
[Fiend]
Slow ya role, slow ya role,ya know what im saying?
Look,we about to go I 255,(yeah) straight up to Memphis.(ya show)
See what im saying, Paul said he gone meet us by Wal-Greens,
we 'bout to go head on and break this bread, ya see what I'm saying?
What you gone do?
[Fiend]
Bitch,you can picture the pain,I rip you in vain
While the young soldiers whisper my name
I'm dealing the caine,sippin' on crown, smokin' that Jane
Open the brain,let that shit inject, you think that I'm playin'
Don't make me get at your kin fo those that can't
Either you die slow,ride slow, cause Fiend about to show
How not only God knows, these niggas our hoes,my stock broke
So we ain't trippin' puttin' knives to throats
Buckin the clip at the 5and 0 ,allow smoke
Dosha go straight to my lungs I see WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP
In ya streets Chopper intro now peep this
Got wit you F-I-E-N-D and THREE-6
Talk it like I bring I feel you need this,deep shit
Sleep wit them fishes, eat wit them bitches,it's all on you
Like that lil nigga B.G. cd volume 2
I throw hallows threw ,what you use to swallow and chew,
'bout what ya gone do?
[Lord Infamous]
Infamous I'm leavin brain dust
I'll indanger you lamers like strangers
I'm in this bitch, pimp stick, clothes hanger
I'm out the frame, on a lame, like a Banger
I either put you in a cross,or I pull the Moss
I'm runnin threw so logs, tring to blow ya leg off
I put some shit up in the line that'll blow ya mind
It's like some Colt 45, does it every time,nigga get my rhymes
[Chorus: Fiend]
If I pull my pistol I'm a bust wit it
Never see me holdin it and go fuss wit it
You gone be a big pussy gettin f*cked wit it
Foever tucked wit it, cause you done got touched wit it
[2x's]
[Serv-on]
Act like you know me when I say Im head thug on your block
Hold ya breath when I spray paint my name on yo spot
Tell your self you ain't scared when I run in your shit
I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apollogize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd World I represent it Blood City fo real
Foreget yo know me when I pistol whip you and yo click
No limit riders, Tre 6, yall aint runnin like this
[DJ Paul]
Now whats the f*ck the use of holdin a gun and playin wit you hoes
I'm bout to shut down yo heart thats how the story goes
These boys think cause we some CEO's, we must be some hoes
Its consequences and reprecusions f*ckin wit pros
Thiese bitches hot cause its hypnotized and no limit
We off the wham but only real niggas all up in it
I tell you what Serv kill the head of yo click
And I bet all them hoes quit talkin shit
[Chorus 2x's]
[Juicy J]
I never ran up yo a trunk
Blastin on a f*ckin punk
Toxicated, high, or drunk
Try and grab the closest pump
Never flodged on how I lived
Fight a nigga over a bitch
Playa Im just callin pimp
Always keep a cigarette lit
Never walked up in the club
Dissin niggas wit a mug
Always keep my owm sack
Never wanted to hit your bud
Independant on you hoes
Makin more than selling dope
If you wanna hate the click
Nigga I make your body froze
[Serv-on]
Close yo eyes ?
Mouth full its a south thang thuging like that
You say you know Im in North Memphis pushin that drill
Tearin clubs up in South Memphis and Smokey City
Say your prayers when I lay that iron clean on yo chest
Dont play no games boy, Im kinda wild wit that tech
Pretend you death when I scream what city you clame
F*ck around wit me I seperate your body from your name
[La Chat]
Lay down bitch ,La Chat and I ain't playing no games
bucking you hoes,my mado keep my distance from lames
My 45 be on my side and I be ready to ride
We catch you slipin you be missin have you barried alive
My niggas downdown we got that anna that you bitches dont won't
Step to me wrong Paul,Juicy,Pat,La Chat be strapped wit them pumps
Now how you figure when you f*ck up that we gone let you live
We kill your ass then set a randsome fo your guts that we spill!!!!!
[Chorus]
Boy,I think this the second time you done passed up this sign
you goin'the wrong way main.
[Fiend]
Slow ya role, slow ya role,ya know what im saying?
Look,we about to go I 255,(yeah) straight up to Memphis.(ya show)
See what im saying, Paul said he gone meet us by Wal-Greens,
we 'bout to go head on and break this bread, ya see what I'm saying?
What you gone do?
[Fiend]
Bitch,you can picture the pain,I rip you in vain
While the young soldiers whisper my name
I'm dealing the caine,sippin' on crown, smokin' that Jane
Open the brain,let that shit inject, you think that I'm playin'
Don't make me get at your kin fo those that can't
Either you die slow,ride slow, cause Fiend about to show
How not only God knows, these niggas our hoes,my stock broke
So we ain't trippin' puttin' knives to throats
Buckin the clip at the 5and 0 ,allow smoke
Dosha go straight to my lungs I see WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP
In ya streets Chopper intro now peep this
Got wit you F-I-E-N-D and THREE-6
Talk it like I bring I feel you need this,deep shit
Sleep wit them fishes, eat wit them bitches,it's all on you
Like that lil nigga B.G. cd volume 2
I throw hallows threw ,what you use to swallow and chew,
'bout what ya gone do?
[Lord Infamous]
Infamous I'm leavin brain dust
I'll indanger you lamers like strangers
I'm in this bitch, pimp stick, clothes hanger
I'm out the frame, on a lame, like a Banger
I either put you in a cross,or I pull the Moss
I'm runnin threw so logs, tring to blow ya leg off
I put some shit up in the line that'll blow ya mind
It's like some Colt 45, does it every time,nigga get my rhymes
[Chorus: Fiend]
If I pull my pistol I'm a bust wit it
Never see me holdin it and go fuss wit it
You gone be a big pussy gettin f*cked wit it
Foever tucked wit it, cause you done got touched wit it
[2x's]
[Serv-on]
Act like you know me when I say Im head thug on your block
Hold ya breath when I spray paint my name on yo spot
Tell your self you ain't scared when I run in your shit
I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apollogize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd World I represent it Blood City fo real
Foreget yo know me when I pistol whip you and yo click
No limit riders, Tre 6, yall aint runnin like this
[DJ Paul]
Now whats the f*ck the use of holdin a gun and playin wit you hoes
I'm bout to shut down yo heart thats how the story goes
These boys think cause we some CEO's, we must be some hoes
Its consequences and reprecusions f*ckin wit pros
Thiese bitches hot cause its hypnotized and no limit
We off the wham but only real niggas all up in it
I tell you what Serv kill the head of yo click
And I bet all them hoes quit talkin shit
[Chorus 2x's]
[Juicy J]
I never ran up yo a trunk
Blastin on a f*ckin punk
Toxicated, high, or drunk
Try and grab the closest pump
Never flodged on how I lived
Fight a nigga over a bitch
Playa Im just callin pimp
Always keep a cigarette lit
Never walked up in the club
Dissin niggas wit a mug
Always keep my owm sack
Never wanted to hit your bud
Independant on you hoes
Makin more than selling dope
If you wanna hate the click
Nigga I make your body froze
[Serv-on]
Close yo eyes ?
Mouth full its a south thang thuging like that
You say you know Im in North Memphis pushin that drill
Tearin clubs up in South Memphis and Smokey City
Say your prayers when I lay that iron clean on yo chest
Dont play no games boy, Im kinda wild wit that tech
Pretend you death when I scream what city you clame
F*ck around wit me I seperate your body from your name
[La Chat]
Lay down bitch ,La Chat and I ain't playing no games
bucking you hoes,my mado keep my distance from lames
My 45 be on my side and I be ready to ride
We catch you slipin you be missin have you barried alive
My niggas downdown we got that anna that you bitches dont won't
Step to me wrong Paul,Juicy,Pat,La Chat be strapped wit them pumps
Now how you figure when you f*ck up that we gone let you live
We kill your ass then set a randsome fo your guts that we spill!!!!!
[Chorus]
Writer: E. SMITH, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD, R. JONE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
M.E.M.P.H.I.S.
[DJ Paul]
Finally, I got all real niggaz on on a muthaf*ckin' Posse song
Niggaz that's down to cut some muthaf*ckin' heads
(Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya)
From hear to ATL, to Nashville, back to the M-town nigga
And you know what that mean bitch
Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious bitch
Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious nigga
[Project Pat]
Call a nigga, drug dealer, out here on the track nigga
Weed smoker, coke snorter, come and get a pack nigga
Cane slanger, bitch banger, dog I'll bring it to ya
If you got a problem with me, holla at my Luga
Dro puffer, cheese come up, when we on the track jack
Hit you in the head, with the gat, 'til your skull crack
Blood gushin', head rushin', act first, no discussion
Come with that bullshit, then the bullets start bustin'
[Lord Infamous]
First crime, we came with Mystic Stylez on grime
You slip, I Live By My Rep don't f*ck with mine
Da End, the souls of men embedded inside the Posse
The Prophet, the Posse, we all collide
We brutal, the Chapter 2 to end the phase, our mind
In crime, reminds, CrazedNLazDayz
Hypno-tize, and blazed another gold plate
Sixty 6, sixty 1, The Smoke Clears, evaporate
[Juicy J]
I got a 357, a tec with a black clip
A 180 pounds witha fist that will bust lips
Some killaz on my side, if I tell 'em they gon' get
A fool violatin' the business, I ain't wit'
And now in 2000 you talkin' the same shit
And now in 2000 I'll bust and I won't miss
The smoke is in the air the liquor is still a fifth
The grill is still gold, and the curls they know kick, fool
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
[Cruchy Black]
You can believe this, you can believe that
And believe I got a baseball bat, and I'm bustin' your head black
You believe I'm comin' strong, you believe I'm all grown
You believe, that nigga, I love to get it on
You half steppin'I got the weapon
Boom! Boom!
I'm blastin' at your mind to get you believe that
I love to kill, I love the thrill
And I love to put a nigga body parts in the field, nigga
[La Chat]
No no, come, come and get this bitch, ain't got no time fo no shit
Got all my boys, don't make no noise,just throw that trick in the ditch
It ain't no way La Chat gon' let it slide, with the shit that you done
I got my piece for what I do, to show you who the f*ck number one
I shot that bitch without causes, ain't got no love in my heart
It ain't no way that I can't handle, keep that tone in my jaw
This ain't no crap, I speak the truth, gotta come too thick to get me
On one of you hoes, before you come, La Chat ain't gone easy
[Koopsta Knicca:]
Man a bitch'll take that lil bit out her pussy for them papers
Get the f*ck away from me ho because the crew can't stand them vapors
Take her, break her, to whip that funky bitch
Talkin' that shit about this man you'll get 10 slugs up in your arm pits
Yeah we can do i,t take your time and do it right
You can gimme the f*ckin' chewin', I can f*ck you all night
Wanna fight about your friends see how them bitches gon' start
See now that's that type of shit that get my muh'f*ckin' dick hard
[T- Rock]
Capital Mack-11's, and load 'em full of ammunition
Terrorist sect's, we pull and lock'em in the Expedition
No set a niggaz got guns equivalent to what we pack
Nuclear pistols and fire scorchin' automatic gats
How in the f*ck can you handle the, busta damager
Toss that bitch over the banaster, like trash canisters
Hollow points into your battle troops, when I have to shoot
Plus I'll be storin' the cap for you, and trick be absolute
[MC Mack]
I woke up early Saturday morning,
suddenly your phone was ringin' off the charger
Thinkin' to myself, man, is it a bitch or cop, or is it them robbers
Got MC Mack of in a scheme, I'm stainin' for my dividends
And pay a livin', neh nigga,
gon' bother my cheese gon' reach the ceiling fan
You can catch my in that president thing, on gizold when you see me
You can joke me, ever rope me, best believe your bleed this evenin'
F*ck the reason, and the treason,
time to get dirty nigga better I'll pop it
You was gaspin' for your life, but all I heard was Killa Klan Kaze
[DJ Paul]
Bitches think we playin', think this killa shit a joke
Don't f*ck around with HCP and get you ass smoked, ho
Comin' with some fully auto's, f*ck some semi's
Hit 'em with some hollow auto's, cause I desp-iz-ise
Blastin' like some rondo batays, for you miatays
Koop with double clicks and duck tape, and wicked wizays
And I, perferin' keepin' busin' in my freak time
Taught 'em in that buried unknown, they wanna reap why
Give you second thoughts about that businness, you then finished right
Take you to the vault, cash it in, all night flight
And I'm in a bad mood, cocaine make it that
Plus, I gotta ease on this nine-milly, willy, nigga I slang with that
Bitch, nigga, it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
What, what, it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
It's CP nigga it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
It's CP nigga it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
Finally, I got all real niggaz on on a muthaf*ckin' Posse song
Niggaz that's down to cut some muthaf*ckin' heads
(Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya)
From hear to ATL, to Nashville, back to the M-town nigga
And you know what that mean bitch
Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious bitch
Makin' easy money, pimpin' hoes is serious nigga
[Project Pat]
Call a nigga, drug dealer, out here on the track nigga
Weed smoker, coke snorter, come and get a pack nigga
Cane slanger, bitch banger, dog I'll bring it to ya
If you got a problem with me, holla at my Luga
Dro puffer, cheese come up, when we on the track jack
Hit you in the head, with the gat, 'til your skull crack
Blood gushin', head rushin', act first, no discussion
Come with that bullshit, then the bullets start bustin'
[Lord Infamous]
First crime, we came with Mystic Stylez on grime
You slip, I Live By My Rep don't f*ck with mine
Da End, the souls of men embedded inside the Posse
The Prophet, the Posse, we all collide
We brutal, the Chapter 2 to end the phase, our mind
In crime, reminds, CrazedNLazDayz
Hypno-tize, and blazed another gold plate
Sixty 6, sixty 1, The Smoke Clears, evaporate
[Juicy J]
I got a 357, a tec with a black clip
A 180 pounds witha fist that will bust lips
Some killaz on my side, if I tell 'em they gon' get
A fool violatin' the business, I ain't wit'
And now in 2000 you talkin' the same shit
And now in 2000 I'll bust and I won't miss
The smoke is in the air the liquor is still a fifth
The grill is still gold, and the curls they know kick, fool
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
Mafia, ya, y-ya, y-ya, ya, ya
[Cruchy Black]
You can believe this, you can believe that
And believe I got a baseball bat, and I'm bustin' your head black
You believe I'm comin' strong, you believe I'm all grown
You believe, that nigga, I love to get it on
You half steppin'I got the weapon
Boom! Boom!
I'm blastin' at your mind to get you believe that
I love to kill, I love the thrill
And I love to put a nigga body parts in the field, nigga
[La Chat]
No no, come, come and get this bitch, ain't got no time fo no shit
Got all my boys, don't make no noise,just throw that trick in the ditch
It ain't no way La Chat gon' let it slide, with the shit that you done
I got my piece for what I do, to show you who the f*ck number one
I shot that bitch without causes, ain't got no love in my heart
It ain't no way that I can't handle, keep that tone in my jaw
This ain't no crap, I speak the truth, gotta come too thick to get me
On one of you hoes, before you come, La Chat ain't gone easy
[Koopsta Knicca:]
Man a bitch'll take that lil bit out her pussy for them papers
Get the f*ck away from me ho because the crew can't stand them vapors
Take her, break her, to whip that funky bitch
Talkin' that shit about this man you'll get 10 slugs up in your arm pits
Yeah we can do i,t take your time and do it right
You can gimme the f*ckin' chewin', I can f*ck you all night
Wanna fight about your friends see how them bitches gon' start
See now that's that type of shit that get my muh'f*ckin' dick hard
[T- Rock]
Capital Mack-11's, and load 'em full of ammunition
Terrorist sect's, we pull and lock'em in the Expedition
No set a niggaz got guns equivalent to what we pack
Nuclear pistols and fire scorchin' automatic gats
How in the f*ck can you handle the, busta damager
Toss that bitch over the banaster, like trash canisters
Hollow points into your battle troops, when I have to shoot
Plus I'll be storin' the cap for you, and trick be absolute
[MC Mack]
I woke up early Saturday morning,
suddenly your phone was ringin' off the charger
Thinkin' to myself, man, is it a bitch or cop, or is it them robbers
Got MC Mack of in a scheme, I'm stainin' for my dividends
And pay a livin', neh nigga,
gon' bother my cheese gon' reach the ceiling fan
You can catch my in that president thing, on gizold when you see me
You can joke me, ever rope me, best believe your bleed this evenin'
F*ck the reason, and the treason,
time to get dirty nigga better I'll pop it
You was gaspin' for your life, but all I heard was Killa Klan Kaze
[DJ Paul]
Bitches think we playin', think this killa shit a joke
Don't f*ck around with HCP and get you ass smoked, ho
Comin' with some fully auto's, f*ck some semi's
Hit 'em with some hollow auto's, cause I desp-iz-ise
Blastin' like some rondo batays, for you miatays
Koop with double clicks and duck tape, and wicked wizays
And I, perferin' keepin' busin' in my freak time
Taught 'em in that buried unknown, they wanna reap why
Give you second thoughts about that businness, you then finished right
Take you to the vault, cash it in, all night flight
And I'm in a bad mood, cocaine make it that
Plus, I gotta ease on this nine-milly, willy, nigga I slang with that
Bitch, nigga, it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
What, what, it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
It's CP nigga it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
It's CP nigga it's CP nigga HCP, Hypnotize Camp Posse nigga
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Just Another Crazy Click
(Intro-J and Shaggy) I choke (nope) Hold up. Aight, listen. (F*cking go!) I stab you with an umbrella, and then open it! (Noo!) Cause I'm sick like a diseased Etheopian! (That shit's wack...aight, f*ck that....aight, hold up....aight, c'mon....Wait I'll peel your cap back with a cannonball a second, listen!) I buck them all,f*ck them all (Yeah!) We standing tall (Whooooo!!) Three 6 Mafia!! (Yes!! Yes!!) Insane Clown Posse and Twiztid (Noooo!!) We used to,we used to, We used to rob for them petty thangs like a gold chain Or a mothaf*cking pinky ring Now it's cocaine I'm the dope man Cigarettes in my right hand If you see me on the dope train Ready to make a stand Old folks scared of eye gain Out the window pane they be lookin with a migrane While I catch a drain And you know it's a f*cking shame When you in this game Trying to sell to a sprung lane I control your brain Now do my niggaz, bust glocks, f*ck wit us, bitch see It's the buggaz of the west, bust a trick, make em' bleed Through his neck, through his back, nigga, cover them hoes Ain't nuttin else gonna be workin when you twirkin wit some pros Automatic with the carrier Silence on the barrier Hang them in the closet, kidnap the treasurer Bandanas on our face from wilding out like some cowboys Hoe, we need the keys and I'm talking like, now boy! We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gon' lie Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie Put your guards up, show em' who really runnin' the streets with them Calicos All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete We the clique that don't play Quick to rip your head off and hand it to Violent J and burry it away I'm on a spree Killing for free Without a conscience Bitches, we on a mission to bomb shit Twiztid, ICP, with the Triple Six clique Hoes that pop lip Or get your neck slit Can eat a dick I'm having these memory lapses Of bodies off in the caskets With no heads Monoxide, ruler of the dead watzup We runnin deep on the lawn With the Psychopathic leathers on You say it's on We getting crunk at your funerals So come bring it on We Juggalo individuals (Woop Woop) Treat us like we criminals We just another crazy clique ICP, Twiztid, Triple Six All up in this bitch And we running shit We doing driveby's on all y'all with chainsaws Pure uncut, redefining rugged and raw We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos All kinds of shit bitch you ant compete Just another crazy clique to f*ck around and bury ya Taking care of ya We scarier Than malaria I walk around your neighborhood like Frankenstien Choking anybody I find I'm taking mine You mothaf*ckas can't get near it Cause you fear it I dunno judo, but I go KEE-YA!!! Look at my glass eye, I'm sick like Lou Gerigh F*ck you up so bad, a wheelchair couldn't see ya Listen,(sluurrpp!) Ya hear that, slut? That was me,pulling this dick out ya butt I'm a juggalo serial killa, steady screaming FUCK y'all! I stab bitches with a chainsaw We walk around Compton and Watts beat scrubs up And right into thugs face, I throw the dubs up We tearing clubs up, down south from the D Three Six y'all, Twiztid, and ICP We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, JOSEPH BRUCE, JOSEPH USTLER, PAUL BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Who Run It
[DJ Paul:] Who run it [15]
[Chorus: DJ Paul (4x)]
These bitches ain't runnin'(runnin'), shit but y'all mouth
Cause the first hater step, the first hater get tossed out
[DJ Paul]
These niggaz got plenty ammo, but they ain't got plenty guns
I'm bustin' out of these cars, got the hoes on the run
I'm hearin' plenty of words, but ain't no actions to boot
We can do some straight war for war, we can do some stickin' and movin'
We can meet in the middle of these streets or in the middle of this rain
I can pop your chest, blast the glock, or pop your jaw diamond ring
Bitch don't hate me hate the bank, or snatch the G's that I take
Or hate my shiny wristband, and big ass rims I rotate
See people flip when I'm comin', got some of 'em sick at the stomach
They wonder what I brought in, they wonder what I got comin'
Niggaz I'm comin' like this, off in your mouth like a bitch
Test me when you think I'm in, I'm bringing water, I'll start it
[Juicy J]
What's this
It's that player that you love to hate, always see come out the bank
Always have to mention my name, when you high on that drank
Catch you with this boy you can't, cause you know I'm holdin' rank
When you see the platinum Rolex with the ice it make you faint
Through the streets now have you heard, out the Mafia droppin' birds
Runnin' from the nazi cops, tossin' out the bags of herb
Ain't afraid to pop the steel, hollow tips to make you feel
If you wanna punk me out, pop these niggaz in they grill
[Chorus: DJ Paul (2x)]
[Crunchy Black:]
I can't take any more, I'm bout to explode
I'm bout to overload, I'm bout to kill boy
All I wanna know is where the G's at, where the Ki's at
Keep it easy, you don't want to get speedy
All on this motherf*ckin room, nigga boom
Get on your back so we can get up soon
Stab you in your heart with a har-f*ckin-poon
Nigga boom, nigga boom
[Lord Infamous]
Scarecrow's on it, I'm still hungry, stoppin' for a platinum supper
Wipe it easy, some black founded, crooked ass set'll be eating rubber
Casue if they skit-skat, gun 'em all down, even ghost towns
Splish-Splash, brains on the ground, with a cannon round
Ball bat, bash him in his back, beatin' bitches down
Battle like blaze from the cross, that he never found
Catch a close encounter from the anarchism of these A-bombs
Chemical reaction cause the venom shot in to his arm
[Chorus: DJ Paul (3x)]
[Gangsta Boo]
Here we go, all you weak ass hoes
In my face like you my friend
Triple Six dropped in again, time to make ends
Dope game , my game, hoes lame, it's a shame
How that Gangsta Boo is runnin' the click up on you bitches man
Fat cat, what I be, packin' how you love that
F*ck a platinum plaque, gimme money, where the dollars at
(Blap, blap) We dare them to stack it for 10 G's
(Where you from?) Black haven is where I be on my P's
[Koopsta Knicca]
Parents beware, watch out for your children
This the one that'll lock 'em in the basement
Some of them talkin' so rugged, some corrupted ugly pussa-pussa
Cause the f*ckin' all my niggaz, Koopsta tryin' to tell ya somethin'
Peter-Peter, pussy eater, one of them f*cked by Koopsta Knicca
Lord, I done some sins, cause she married, but I don't know that nigga
Figured he is a killa, so he figures he'll watch us f*ckin'
Put them muthaf*ckin' slugs upside that thug, cuz, oh my
[Chorus: DJ Paul (til fade)]
[Chorus: DJ Paul (4x)]
These bitches ain't runnin'(runnin'), shit but y'all mouth
Cause the first hater step, the first hater get tossed out
[DJ Paul]
These niggaz got plenty ammo, but they ain't got plenty guns
I'm bustin' out of these cars, got the hoes on the run
I'm hearin' plenty of words, but ain't no actions to boot
We can do some straight war for war, we can do some stickin' and movin'
We can meet in the middle of these streets or in the middle of this rain
I can pop your chest, blast the glock, or pop your jaw diamond ring
Bitch don't hate me hate the bank, or snatch the G's that I take
Or hate my shiny wristband, and big ass rims I rotate
See people flip when I'm comin', got some of 'em sick at the stomach
They wonder what I brought in, they wonder what I got comin'
Niggaz I'm comin' like this, off in your mouth like a bitch
Test me when you think I'm in, I'm bringing water, I'll start it
[Juicy J]
What's this
It's that player that you love to hate, always see come out the bank
Always have to mention my name, when you high on that drank
Catch you with this boy you can't, cause you know I'm holdin' rank
When you see the platinum Rolex with the ice it make you faint
Through the streets now have you heard, out the Mafia droppin' birds
Runnin' from the nazi cops, tossin' out the bags of herb
Ain't afraid to pop the steel, hollow tips to make you feel
If you wanna punk me out, pop these niggaz in they grill
[Chorus: DJ Paul (2x)]
[Crunchy Black:]
I can't take any more, I'm bout to explode
I'm bout to overload, I'm bout to kill boy
All I wanna know is where the G's at, where the Ki's at
Keep it easy, you don't want to get speedy
All on this motherf*ckin room, nigga boom
Get on your back so we can get up soon
Stab you in your heart with a har-f*ckin-poon
Nigga boom, nigga boom
[Lord Infamous]
Scarecrow's on it, I'm still hungry, stoppin' for a platinum supper
Wipe it easy, some black founded, crooked ass set'll be eating rubber
Casue if they skit-skat, gun 'em all down, even ghost towns
Splish-Splash, brains on the ground, with a cannon round
Ball bat, bash him in his back, beatin' bitches down
Battle like blaze from the cross, that he never found
Catch a close encounter from the anarchism of these A-bombs
Chemical reaction cause the venom shot in to his arm
[Chorus: DJ Paul (3x)]
[Gangsta Boo]
Here we go, all you weak ass hoes
In my face like you my friend
Triple Six dropped in again, time to make ends
Dope game , my game, hoes lame, it's a shame
How that Gangsta Boo is runnin' the click up on you bitches man
Fat cat, what I be, packin' how you love that
F*ck a platinum plaque, gimme money, where the dollars at
(Blap, blap) We dare them to stack it for 10 G's
(Where you from?) Black haven is where I be on my P's
[Koopsta Knicca]
Parents beware, watch out for your children
This the one that'll lock 'em in the basement
Some of them talkin' so rugged, some corrupted ugly pussa-pussa
Cause the f*ckin' all my niggaz, Koopsta tryin' to tell ya somethin'
Peter-Peter, pussy eater, one of them f*cked by Koopsta Knicca
Lord, I done some sins, cause she married, but I don't know that nigga
Figured he is a killa, so he figures he'll watch us f*ckin'
Put them muthaf*ckin' slugs upside that thug, cuz, oh my
[Chorus: DJ Paul (til fade)]
Writer: PAUL D. N BEAUREGARD, THOMAS RANDOLPH BELL, WILLIAM ALEXANDER N HART, JORDAN N HOUSTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Put Ya Signs
[Hook: x2]
Put ya sign in his face, gang sign in his face
Put ya sign in his face, gang sign in his face
Make them niggas fight, what make them hoes fight
Make them niggas fight, what make them hoes fight
[Gangsta Boo]
If you bitches ain't scared put a bitch right to the floor
Tell her she belong below under shoes where roaches go
Hoe I'm ready if you ready tell me what you wanna do
To the lovely Gangsta Boo, buck as f*ck I thought you knew
Put my sign up in ya face
Leave ya stape without a trace
You ain't buck 'cause bitch I saw ya stankin' ass yesterday
Talk ya ? hoe ya ? 'cause I'm comin' in the crowd boy
With niggas and I'm out slammin' bitches to the ground
[Lord Infamous]
I see ya from the stage ya angry face is fighting in the corner
Full of marijuana niggas in the middle in a trauma
While they throwin 'bo's they snatchin' hoes that stuck in a coma
Any thick lil' fine bitch come on through a nigga all up on her
Some trick done got mad and ran to the wagon and grabbed a 12 gauge pump
Probably full of that numby numb that coke and rum and getting dumb
Cars are barrelin' through the nigga shootin' runnin to the Rover
Niggas catchin the heat from slugs
Negroes gettin trampled over
[Hook x2]
[Juicy J]
Now I got you bitches hot
Platinum out and on the spot
Mad becuase they take your cell
So they stop at slangin rocks
Bring yo ass to North Memphis
Killas hang and niggas pimpin
Playas on them cards flippin
Choppin dope up in the kitchen
And I always keep it real
Way before a record deal
So my nigga don't hate on me 'cause Juicy J be gettin his bills
Clean that mug from off ya face unless you want a casket case
Nigga f*ck what you end, who you clean, and f*ck ya friend
[DJ Paul]
Nigga you claimin set, throwin', showin' signs
You ain't no one look inside your face is plain as day
Another hoe is showin'
Bitch I'm down with the same game you claim but I will f*ck you up
Hoe it ain't the same off in them flames I don't give a f*ck
Put some in your liver you so ? in the studio
Nigga all but the liver watch you run like bitch was stealers that I let you
know
Packing automatics full of that static that you stressin' for
Actin' like you want some but it seems you scared to go
[Hook]
[Koopsta Knicca]
Hey don't call me for sweet songs
Ain't no ?
Ain't no funky smilin' faces
Ain't no grins up on this man
It's the ? that keeps me cool
Social security breaking news
Shit could fight up all night with mo henny wait that's how I (breath)
Do you feel it? Is it rare?
Smack that bitch up with that chair
When you see me over there
Raise your hands up in the air
'Cause bitch this ain't no Rosewood
Nigga take another round
Slipped up, chopped up, f*cked, lights out
[Crunchy Black]
Claim where I claim, hang where I hang
Burn where I burn, nigga ain't no thing
Do what I do, hanging with my crew
(What, what, what, what) nigga I thought you knew
Ain't no hood, throwin our sets
Me f*cking more nigga no disrespect
Get out our way, gun will spray
Easy come nigga anyday
[Hook until fade]
Put ya sign in his face, gang sign in his face
Put ya sign in his face, gang sign in his face
Make them niggas fight, what make them hoes fight
Make them niggas fight, what make them hoes fight
[Gangsta Boo]
If you bitches ain't scared put a bitch right to the floor
Tell her she belong below under shoes where roaches go
Hoe I'm ready if you ready tell me what you wanna do
To the lovely Gangsta Boo, buck as f*ck I thought you knew
Put my sign up in ya face
Leave ya stape without a trace
You ain't buck 'cause bitch I saw ya stankin' ass yesterday
Talk ya ? hoe ya ? 'cause I'm comin' in the crowd boy
With niggas and I'm out slammin' bitches to the ground
[Lord Infamous]
I see ya from the stage ya angry face is fighting in the corner
Full of marijuana niggas in the middle in a trauma
While they throwin 'bo's they snatchin' hoes that stuck in a coma
Any thick lil' fine bitch come on through a nigga all up on her
Some trick done got mad and ran to the wagon and grabbed a 12 gauge pump
Probably full of that numby numb that coke and rum and getting dumb
Cars are barrelin' through the nigga shootin' runnin to the Rover
Niggas catchin the heat from slugs
Negroes gettin trampled over
[Hook x2]
[Juicy J]
Now I got you bitches hot
Platinum out and on the spot
Mad becuase they take your cell
So they stop at slangin rocks
Bring yo ass to North Memphis
Killas hang and niggas pimpin
Playas on them cards flippin
Choppin dope up in the kitchen
And I always keep it real
Way before a record deal
So my nigga don't hate on me 'cause Juicy J be gettin his bills
Clean that mug from off ya face unless you want a casket case
Nigga f*ck what you end, who you clean, and f*ck ya friend
[DJ Paul]
Nigga you claimin set, throwin', showin' signs
You ain't no one look inside your face is plain as day
Another hoe is showin'
Bitch I'm down with the same game you claim but I will f*ck you up
Hoe it ain't the same off in them flames I don't give a f*ck
Put some in your liver you so ? in the studio
Nigga all but the liver watch you run like bitch was stealers that I let you
know
Packing automatics full of that static that you stressin' for
Actin' like you want some but it seems you scared to go
[Hook]
[Koopsta Knicca]
Hey don't call me for sweet songs
Ain't no ?
Ain't no funky smilin' faces
Ain't no grins up on this man
It's the ? that keeps me cool
Social security breaking news
Shit could fight up all night with mo henny wait that's how I (breath)
Do you feel it? Is it rare?
Smack that bitch up with that chair
When you see me over there
Raise your hands up in the air
'Cause bitch this ain't no Rosewood
Nigga take another round
Slipped up, chopped up, f*cked, lights out
[Crunchy Black]
Claim where I claim, hang where I hang
Burn where I burn, nigga ain't no thing
Do what I do, hanging with my crew
(What, what, what, what) nigga I thought you knew
Ain't no hood, throwin our sets
Me f*cking more nigga no disrespect
Get out our way, gun will spray
Easy come nigga anyday
[Hook until fade]
Writer: JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL D. BEAUREGARD
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
What's Next (Outro)
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Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
When the Smoke Clears: Sixty 6, Sixty 1 is the fourth studio album by American hip hop group Three 6 Mafia. The album was released on June 13, 2000, by Hypnotize Minds Records and Loud Records. The album was certified Platinum by the RIAA (Recording Industry Association of America) for selling 1,000,000 copies on December 1, 2000.
The album bolstered the group's popularity immensely, and contains some of Three 6 Mafia's most well known tracks, such as "Sippin' on Some Syrup" "Who Run It” and "I'm So Hi". The album was one of the last projects featuring all of the original group's members, as Gangsta Boo left after the Choices: The Album soundtrack, and Koopsta Knicca left after the album's release.
Performed By:
Three 6 MafiaThe album bolstered the group's popularity immensely, and contains some of Three 6 Mafia's most well known tracks, such as "Sippin' on Some Syrup" "Who Run It” and "I'm So Hi". The album was one of the last projects featuring all of the original group's members, as Gangsta Boo left after the Choices: The Album soundtrack, and Koopsta Knicca left after the album's release.
Genre(s): Horrorcore, gangsta rap, Memphis rap, crunk, hardcore hip hop
Producer(s): DJ Paul, Juicy J
Length: 73:58
Released: June 13th, 2000
Year: 2000