|
Three Six Mafia, you scared 2003 six is goin down |
|
(Intro) |
|
You scared hoe |
|
what what what |
|
You scared hoe |
|
what what what |
|
You scared hoe |
|
what what what |
|
Kickin in the door I make |
|
them bitches hit the floor |
|
for keys |
|
(rpt 2x) |
|
(Verse 1) |
|
Bust in with that 45 make them bitches back it up |
|
Catch them ridin on them thangs make them bitches jack it up |
|
Here they got that pot it man make them bitches bag it up |
|
Finally got that money man make them bitches sag it up |
|
Take it to the spot man now its time to crank it up |
|
Don't play tomorrows a brighter day I gotta pack it up |
|
Means I bees the first up on the block I guess to rack it up |
|
Pocket full of stones oh boy I gotta track it up |
|
F**kin wit you snitches man don't make me wanna hang it up |
|
But lookin at a empty plate dont' make me wanna keep it up |
|
Any nigga with that work gon make me wanna kreep it up |
|
Even though my pockets don't got deep they ain't got deep enough |
|
Wishin I could rob me a bank but I ain't theif enough |
|
I keep it in the hood to rob a nigga chart they sleep enough |
|
That is bout the time I get my back then I need it up |
|
Time to find another boy time I gettin a rita |
|
(Chorus) |
|
I think I got them scared |
|
I think that they scared of me |
|
I think you bitch you scared |
|
I think that they scared of me |
|
I think I got them scared |
|
I think that they scared of me |
|
Kickin in the door I make them |
|
bitches hit the floor for keys |
|
(rpt 2x) |
|
(Verse 2) |
|
Which one of you rappers wanna feel them shots |
|
Sayin that Juicy J f**k you out your record money flop |
|
Hope you know these north memphis soldiers keep a plastic glock |
|
Stand infront of your house im bout to buck you cowards on the spot |
|
Heard you talkin loud at the tuff I guess to gang your pops |
|
Man this ain't no radio station boy quit tryin to pump your watch |
|
Police yellow tape somebody blood they wipin wit a mop |
|
What a witness saw when we here roll on down your corner block |
|
The mafia boys we got the toys make you drop it off |
|
Pass me the gun I take the handle then saw it off |
|
Bust in the bank and make you faint before I knock it off |
|
Humm on the drank and full of dank ready to break the law |
|
I see them fuzz I see we won cause I won it all |
|
So f**ken scared you talkin gahos want it oh want it oh |
|
But we don't care we like em dallas standin ten feet tall |
|
Buckin you blastin you watch you splatter on the f**ken wall |
|
(rpt chorus) |
|
(Verse 3) |
|
Creepin carefully through the street because it very real in the field |
|
Ain't no love for pity ain't nobody cut you no deal |
|
Everyone I know they do whatever just to get a meal |
|
Or whats in the bottle or the baggie or whats under seal |
|
Careful of the company you keep everyone a treal |
|
Cause when robbas mobbas double jaw just to bust appeal |
|
You got hustlas dealas bankin every town every field |
|
Guess what I don't hang around the brothas so so mass a gil |
|
Crunchy Black in this bitch im bout to bring the pain |
|
Ain't no gang in my slang do you understand |
|
Mess with me then your messin with the grownest man |
|
Where im from from the slum niggas shootin a thang |
|
On the run now you see me in the papers man |
|
They was tryin to stop a nigga from doin his thang |
|
Cant ya mug is the song that im singin man |
|
Hypnotize got me gold diggin for the chain |
