Print

Yea all these motherfuckers out here talkin' thatmotherfuckin' shitLet me guess what you is my nigga, seeeeee!(Nigga we don't give a fuck cause we dont fuck wit'cha kind)Once we drop, see you on the blockWe gon' open shop, wit' them thangs that they call them copsClick, click, click, click, POP!Don't you step, wit'cha weak ass self, yes I know you hardThree 6 Mafia got this Memphis, Ten. on the, the, the, theLOCK!Say you real, I can't tell you real, I'll put down a mil'Talk that hit, mang I getcha mang, shoo-shoo-shoot to killAnd he trill, and he know the deal, always packin' steelBuckin' hollows for yo' chest to swallow, fe-fe-fe-fe-feelNigga what bitch? what ho? fucked ya upGet up, throw it up, better duck, 'finna buckCause I'm, 'finna put this lead to 'yaLa Chat gon' have to do 'yaYou bitches talkin' shitt-aI'mma have to bring it to yaI'm strapped up wit' them RugersSo slick, I'm known to fool yaHollow tips is goin' through yaA bitch that love to shoot yaWhat ya talkin' bout boy? that ho?That's me, I breathe this set you bleedSongtexteI'm a bitch that don't start shitBut killin' off all my enemies(Verse 3, Crunchy Black)Here I go again bitch, loadin' up them gunsLookin' out for my enemies, bitch now here I comeAin't no fuckin' with me, ain't no fuckin' with someSome of my niggas, bitch we totin' gunsLock and fuckin' load up, bitch we takin' ova'Bust him in his shoulda', let 'em know they ho to usShouldn't of ran that fuckin' lip, talkin' bout that TreshitGet'cha self dealt wit', real motherfuckin' quick(Verse 4, Frayser Boy)Nigga let's do it, let's pursue it if you got beef wit' meTrigger molester, nigga test us, run up dogg you gon' seeReppin' that bay, carry that K, and will let loose on yousucka'sI keep it cocked, you will get shot, I'll bury youmotherfuckersThis shit I speak, you best to peep it, fo' you end up avictimThis shit is real, don't need to steal, cause these bullets,I sent 'emThey comin' at'cha, this I bet'cha, hypnotizin' yo mindI'm known to buck, don't give a fuck, cause I don't fuckwit'cha kindNow it's one thing I ain't gon do, and thats be playin''round with some ho'sNow its one mo' thing I ain't gon do, and thats be hangin'round' with some foe'sI'm kickin yo' ho ass out this cliqueSoon as I see yo' ass ain't shitPunch the clock out, get yo' Glock out, we can handle thisI'm meaner than yo' regular but try to keep it cool at timesYou started war wit' the realest niggas, but now I'm 'boutto change yo' mindChange yo' face, shoot at yo' place, blow you bitch intoouter spaceLet'chu know that T-R-I-P-L-E-S-I-X don't play(Verse 6, Lord Infamous)I gotta' do this shit exactly like I have it plannedI want you dead, I want you killed, yo' heart be stoppin'manI got to spill your blood, I want to feel it in my handsAnd put yo' family in body bags and drag 'em in my vanI'm gonna teach yo weak lil' bitch clique how to do a crimeI'm gonna steal, but shoot you weak fucks for a long timeThat's consequences, reprocussions, fuck wit' one of usYour death is signed, sealed, delivered by the InfamousRoll, roll, roll your dope, ridin' down the streetChoppin' up that goody-good, and smokin' hydro weedAll these sheisty coward niggas, they can't get wit' meTalkin' 'bout they pimpin', slangin', mayn nigga pleaseThey mad because that Juicy J be on they Tele-VAnd have they baby mama hollerin', cryin' on her kneesI tell ya this my nigga, that the hater pays a feeYou gonna have to pay, when ya hate on pimp Juicy(Nigga we don't give a fuck, cause we don't fuck wit'chakind.) (Repeat 4X)(We mafia niggas, pullin' da triggas, do you wanna fuck wit'these hot ass niggas?) (Repeat 4X) Aus Songtexte Mania