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lirik lagu unknown – three 6 mafia

(dj paul, intro)
finally!
i got all real n-ggas on a motherf-ckin’ posse song!
n-ggas that’s down to cut some motherf-ckin heads!
from here to atl, to nashville, back to the m-town, n-gga
and you know what that means, b-tch!

makin’ easy money, pimpin’ hoes is serious, b-tch
makin’ easy money, pimpin’ hoes is serious, n-gga!

(verse 1, project pat)
call a n-gga, drug dealer
out here on the track n-gga
weed smoker, c0ke snorter
come and get a pack, n-gga
‘cain slanger, b-tch banger
dogg i bring it to ya
if you got a problem wit’ me
holla at my luger
‘dro puffer, cheese cuffer
when we on the jack-jack
hit’cha in the head wit’ that gat
til’ ya skull crack
blood gushin’, head-rushin’
at first, no discussion
come wit’ that bullsh-t
then them bullets start bustin’

(verse 2, k!lla klan kaze)
first crime, we came wit’ “mystic stylez”
i rhyme, you slip
i “live by my rep”, don’t f-ck wit’ mine
“the end”, the souls of men
they beggin’ inside the posse
the prophet, the posse
we all collide, we brew
the trap-t-tute, to end they phase
i’m outty
and crime reminds crazed in last days
hypno-tize and blazed another gold plate
“sixty-six, sixty-one”
the smoke cleared, evaporate

(verse 3, juicy j)
i got a three-fifty-seven
a tech wit’ a black clip
a hundred-eighty pounds
wit’ a fist that gon’ bust lips
some k!llas on my side
if i tell ’em, they gon’ get
a fool violatin’ the business he ain’t wit’
and now in 2000, he talkin’ the same sh-t
and now in 2000, i bust and i won’t miss
the smoke is in the air
the liquor is still a fifth
the groupies still rollin’
the curls ain’t no kick foo

(verse 4, k!lla klan kaze)
the first one of us is done
hollow-tips come by the ton
wit’ two ak’s and plus a drum
to leave these n-gga’s bodies numb
i don’t talk this sh-t for fun
c-ck it back and let it go
wit’ six shots, from the three-6 shooters
lettin’ ’em know, whoa
picture me, naked-faced to kickin’ in yo door
four, n-ggas deep, bandanas wit’ black calico’s
so, when we creep, duck
cause i might hit you nine times
take yo nine lives
jump up and hypnotize yo mind
blaow!

(verse 5, crunchy black)
you can believe this
you can believe that
and believe i got, a baseball bat
and i’m bustin’ yo head, black
and believe i’m comin’ strong
and believe i’m all grown
and believe, that n-gga i love to get it on
no half-steppin’, i gots the weapon
a boom-boom! i’m blastin’ at’cha
i’m out to get’cha, believe that
i love to k!ll, i love the thrill
and i love to put a n-gga’s body parts in the field, n-gga!

(verse 6, la chat)
i’m gon’ go blastin’ to get this b-tch
ain’t got no time for no sh-t
gotta hope my boys don’t make no noise
just throw that trick in the ditch
ain’t know way la chat gon’ let’cha slide
wit’ the sh-t that’cha done
i got my bruise on what i do
to show you folks one-by-one
a sheisty b-tch, without no punch
just got no love in my heart
it ain’t no boy that i can’t handle
keep that tone in my trunk
this ain’t no threat, i speak the truth
gotta come too thick to get me
i’m warnin’ you hoes before you come
that that ain’t gon’ be easy

(verse 7, koopsta knicca)
man a b-tch’ll take that loot
without a p-ssy for them papers
get the f-ck away from me, ho!
because the koop can’t stand the vapors
take her, break her, to whoop that funky b-tch
talkin’ that sh-t about this man
you gets yo chest up in yo arm, b-tch
yeaah, we can do it
take yo time, do it right
you can give me the f-ckin’ chew
and i could f-ck ya all night
wanna fight about’cho friends
see how that be, just don’t start
see now that’s that type of sh-t
that get my muh’f-ckin d-ck hard

(verse 8, t-rock)
gather the mac-11’s and load ’em full of ammunition
terrorist sets, we pull him like i’m in the expedition
all seven n-ggas, got guns equivelent to what we pack
nuclear pistols, and fire-scorchin’ automatic gats
how in the f-ck can you handle the
busted amateur
toss the b-tch over the banister
like trash canisters
hollow-points into yo gathered troops
when i have to shoot
plus i be storin’ the calf of you
and drinkin’ absolute

(verse 9, k!lla klan kaze)
i woke up early sat-rday mornin’
cellular phone was ringin’ off the charger
thinkin’ to myself, man is it a b-tch?
a cop or, it’s them robbers
pardon mr. mac, off in the scheme
i’m stangin’ for my dividends
and pay a livin’, ain’t makin no brother
my cheese gon’ reach the ceiling-fan
you can catch me in that burgandy thang
on grizzle when you see me
you can joke me and provoke me
best believe the bleedin’ is ig’nant
f-ck the reason and the treason
when time to get dirty, n-gga bet our prophet
you was gaspin’ for yo last breath
all i heard was k!lla klan kaze

(verse 10, dj paul)
these b-tches think we playin’
think this k!lla sh-t a joke
come f-ck around wit’ hcp
and get’cho -ss smoked, ho
comin’ wit’ some fully-auto’s
f-ck some semi’s
hit him wit’ some hollow-auto’s
cause i despis-ise
blast ’em like some ralo bate’s
for y’all mayates
equipped wit’ double clips and duct-tape
and wicked wiz-ays
and i prefer it keep me busy in my free-time
caught ’em in the curry, and i’m knowin’ they wanna re-wind
give you second thoughts about that business you didn’t finish, right?
took you to the vault, cash it in, all-night flight
and i’m in a bad mood
cocaine make it that
plus i got east holder
nine-mili w-lly, n-gga i slang wit’ that

(dj paul)
b-tch!
n-gga, hcp
n-gga, hcp
hypnotize camp posse, n-gga
what! what!
hcp, n-gga
hcp, hypnotize camp posse

- three 6 mafia

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