Who Run It Lyrics
| Song | Who Run It |
| Artist | Three 6 Mafia |
| Album | Three 6 Mafia Presents: Hypnotize Camp Posse |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Dj paul： | |
| Who run it (x15) | |
| 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 muthafuckin' boo, nigga boo | |
| Get on your back so we can get up soon | |
| Stab you in your heart with a hard fucking poon | |
| Nigga boo, nigga boo | |
| 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 | |
| Fuck 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 fuckin' all my niggaz, koopsta tryin' to tell ya somethin' | |
| Peter-peter, pussy eater, one of them fucked 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 fuckin' | |
| Put them muthafuckin' slugs upside that thug, cuz, oh my | |
| Chorus: dj paul (til fade) |
| Dj paul: | |
| Who run it x15 | |
| 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 muthafuckin' boo, nigga boo | |
| Get on your back so we can get up soon | |
| Stab you in your heart with a hard fucking poon | |
| Nigga boo, nigga boo | |
| 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 skitskat, gun ' em all down, even ghost towns | |
| Splishsplash, 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 abombs | |
| 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 | |
| Fuck 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 pussapussa | |
| Cause the fuckin' all my niggaz, koopsta tryin' to tell ya somethin' | |
| Peterpeter, pussy eater, one of them fucked 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 fuckin' | |
| Put them muthafuckin' slugs upside that thug, cuz, oh my | |
| Chorus: dj paul til fade |
| Dj paul: | |
| Who run it x15 | |
| 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 muthafuckin' boo, nigga boo | |
| Get on your back so we can get up soon | |
| Stab you in your heart with a hard fucking poon | |
| Nigga boo, nigga boo | |
| 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 skitskat, gun ' em all down, even ghost towns | |
| Splishsplash, 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 abombs | |
| 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 | |
| Fuck 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 pussapussa | |
| Cause the fuckin' all my niggaz, koopsta tryin' to tell ya somethin' | |
| Peterpeter, pussy eater, one of them fucked 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 fuckin' | |
| Put them muthafuckin' slugs upside that thug, cuz, oh my | |
| Chorus: dj paul til fade |
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