3 Card Molly Lyrics
| Song | 3 Card Molly |
| Artist | Xzibit |
| Album | 40 Dayz & 40 Nightz |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Anderson, Austin, Gibson ... | |
| [Ras Kass] | |
| What, yeah, yeah | |
| Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the Waterproof | |
| with my nigga Bud'da, on the track | |
| Golden State Warriors.. | |
| Eatin every rapper on the plate | |
| Huh, feel me | |
| I got three-oh-fo's in three-one-oh | |
| on section eight, with multiple one-eighty-sevens | |
| Sport a Marilyn Manson t-shirt when I die and go to heaven | |
| Smoke a beady, scrape my lungs, smoke the resin | |
| Remember the name Ras Kass-ciano | |
| Get to clownin y'all punk bitches, cause I'm a Mac, like Ronald | |
| I make Mac make money, and mack murder wack rappers | |
| My Makaveli verse Bomb First, the Mac-11'll gat cha | |
| When I get at cha, the situation tenses | |
| Fatality before you ever reach your senses | |
| Got so-called writers, crashing into brick fences | |
| like my name was Al Fayed so you die, like that white princess | |
| If you lookin for sympathy, you better look | |
| between R and T, in the fucking dictionary | |
| See the object of the game is to win, stack some ends, sippin Henn' | |
| Whip a Benz and leave it to your next of kin | |
| [Chorus: repeat 2X] | |
| [RK] Pick a card any card, I bet you can't pull it | |
| [GS] Golden State, number one with a bullet | |
| [XZ] It's three card molly | |
| [RK] Will they ever stop? | |
| [XZ] Probably not | |
| [SN] Pull your spine through your mouth and watch your body drop | |
| [Saafir the Saucee Nomad] | |
| The un-edited medic, on the cut, with a degree in metaphysics | |
| A doctor, with a lot of patients/patience | |
| And perseverance -- flows like an ocean liner | |
| that sails/sales like a clearance, I'm bilingual | |
| Fly like a flamingo, I'm a pitcha, everything I freak | |
| I eat like Al Pacino, you don't like me baby | |
| You ain't happy, you need some Ecstasy | |
| Now you in my properties, but you have to pay my equity | |
| For the lowest point in my character | |
| I'll reach the highest place in the house when I rock | |
| like the Qu'ran, fuse hot, fluid with flavor like buillion cube | |
| Been this way since I was fourteen | |
| And like this I been runnin shit without the use of Sportscreme | |
| Rippin up tracks like immigrant Chinese, peep the game I lay | |
| I'm grim, I brim over my brow when I rip | |
| Never write rhymes with slim fingertips | |
| Each syllable you choose to use is light as a flower | |
| Keep tryin to go gold | |
| but all you're gettin is a golden shower | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Xzibit] | |
| Look, now if it wasn't for the West | |
| These rap niggaz wouldn't need a vest around they chest | |
| Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you drive | |
| So the day some niggaz come for you I'm really not surprised | |
| Mr. Black Bruce Willis, please don't kill us | |
| I show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpion | |
| We sting you from behind and put it in you, so meet me at the venue | |
| Put you on the spot to put you on the menu | |
| Fricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the pussy hot | |
| Xzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china shop | |
| Strippin everything, see you ain't even got a dime to drop | |
| Go ahead and call the cops, you ain't said nathin | |
| Jerry Spring-you out the studio, then Suge Knight you | |
| to the parkin lot, niggaz ain't ready for all this heat we got | |
| Picture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough talk | |
| That's like Christopher Reeves doing the crip walk | |
| [Chorus] |
| zuo ci : Anderson, Austin, Gibson ... | |
| Ras Kass | |
| What, yeah, yeah | |
| Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the Waterproof | |
| with my nigga Bud' da, on the track | |
| Golden State Warriors.. | |
| Eatin every rapper on the plate | |
| Huh, feel me | |
| I got threeohfo' s in threeoneoh | |
| on section eight, with multiple oneeightysevens | |
| Sport a Marilyn Manson tshirt when I die and go to heaven | |
| Smoke a beady, scrape my lungs, smoke the resin | |
| Remember the name Ras Kassciano | |
| Get to clownin y' all punk bitches, cause I' m a Mac, like Ronald | |
| I make Mac make money, and mack murder wack rappers | |
| My Makaveli verse Bomb First, the Mac11' ll gat cha | |
| When I get at cha, the situation tenses | |
| Fatality before you ever reach your senses | |
| Got socalled writers, crashing into brick fences | |
| like my name was Al Fayed so you die, like that white princess | |
| If you lookin for sympathy, you better look | |
| between R and T, in the fucking dictionary | |
| See the object of the game is to win, stack some ends, sippin Henn' | |
| Whip a Benz and leave it to your next of kin | |
| Chorus: repeat 2X | |
| RK Pick a card any card, I bet you can' t pull it | |
| GS Golden State, number one with a bullet | |
| XZ It' s three card molly | |
| RK Will they ever stop? | |
| XZ Probably not | |
| SN Pull your spine through your mouth and watch your body drop | |
| Saafir the Saucee Nomad | |
| The unedited medic, on the cut, with a degree in metaphysics | |
| A doctor, with a lot of patients patience | |
| And perseverance flows like an ocean liner | |
| that sails sales like a clearance, I' m bilingual | |
| Fly like a flamingo, I' m a pitcha, everything I freak | |
| I eat like Al Pacino, you don' t like me baby | |
| You ain' t happy, you need some Ecstasy | |
| Now you in my properties, but you have to pay my equity | |
| For the lowest point in my character | |
| I' ll reach the highest place in the house when I rock | |
| like the Qu' ran, fuse hot, fluid with flavor like buillion cube | |
| Been this way since I was fourteen | |
| And like this I been runnin shit without the use of Sportscreme | |
| Rippin up tracks like immigrant Chinese, peep the game I lay | |
| I' m grim, I brim over my brow when I rip | |
| Never write rhymes with slim fingertips | |
| Each syllable you choose to use is light as a flower | |
| Keep tryin to go gold | |
| but all you' re gettin is a golden shower | |
| Chorus | |
| Xzibit | |
| Look, now if it wasn' t for the West | |
| These rap niggaz wouldn' t need a vest around they chest | |
| Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you drive | |
| So the day some niggaz come for you I' m really not surprised | |
| Mr. Black Bruce Willis, please don' t kill us | |
| I show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpion | |
| We sting you from behind and put it in you, so meet me at the venue | |
| Put you on the spot to put you on the menu | |
| Fricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the pussy hot | |
| Xzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china shop | |
| Strippin everything, see you ain' t even got a dime to drop | |
| Go ahead and call the cops, you ain' t said nathin | |
| Jerry Springyou out the studio, then Suge Knight you | |
| to the parkin lot, niggaz ain' t ready for all this heat we got | |
| Picture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough talk | |
| That' s like Christopher Reeves doing the crip walk | |
| Chorus |
| zuò cí : Anderson, Austin, Gibson ... | |
| Ras Kass | |
| What, yeah, yeah | |
| Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the Waterproof | |
| with my nigga Bud' da, on the track | |
| Golden State Warriors.. | |
| Eatin every rapper on the plate | |
| Huh, feel me | |
| I got threeohfo' s in threeoneoh | |
| on section eight, with multiple oneeightysevens | |
| Sport a Marilyn Manson tshirt when I die and go to heaven | |
| Smoke a beady, scrape my lungs, smoke the resin | |
| Remember the name Ras Kassciano | |
| Get to clownin y' all punk bitches, cause I' m a Mac, like Ronald | |
| I make Mac make money, and mack murder wack rappers | |
| My Makaveli verse Bomb First, the Mac11' ll gat cha | |
| When I get at cha, the situation tenses | |
| Fatality before you ever reach your senses | |
| Got socalled writers, crashing into brick fences | |
| like my name was Al Fayed so you die, like that white princess | |
| If you lookin for sympathy, you better look | |
| between R and T, in the fucking dictionary | |
| See the object of the game is to win, stack some ends, sippin Henn' | |
| Whip a Benz and leave it to your next of kin | |
| Chorus: repeat 2X | |
| RK Pick a card any card, I bet you can' t pull it | |
| GS Golden State, number one with a bullet | |
| XZ It' s three card molly | |
| RK Will they ever stop? | |
| XZ Probably not | |
| SN Pull your spine through your mouth and watch your body drop | |
| Saafir the Saucee Nomad | |
| The unedited medic, on the cut, with a degree in metaphysics | |
| A doctor, with a lot of patients patience | |
| And perseverance flows like an ocean liner | |
| that sails sales like a clearance, I' m bilingual | |
| Fly like a flamingo, I' m a pitcha, everything I freak | |
| I eat like Al Pacino, you don' t like me baby | |
| You ain' t happy, you need some Ecstasy | |
| Now you in my properties, but you have to pay my equity | |
| For the lowest point in my character | |
| I' ll reach the highest place in the house when I rock | |
| like the Qu' ran, fuse hot, fluid with flavor like buillion cube | |
| Been this way since I was fourteen | |
| And like this I been runnin shit without the use of Sportscreme | |
| Rippin up tracks like immigrant Chinese, peep the game I lay | |
| I' m grim, I brim over my brow when I rip | |
| Never write rhymes with slim fingertips | |
| Each syllable you choose to use is light as a flower | |
| Keep tryin to go gold | |
| but all you' re gettin is a golden shower | |
| Chorus | |
| Xzibit | |
| Look, now if it wasn' t for the West | |
| These rap niggaz wouldn' t need a vest around they chest | |
| Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you drive | |
| So the day some niggaz come for you I' m really not surprised | |
| Mr. Black Bruce Willis, please don' t kill us | |
| I show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpion | |
| We sting you from behind and put it in you, so meet me at the venue | |
| Put you on the spot to put you on the menu | |
| Fricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the pussy hot | |
| Xzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china shop | |
| Strippin everything, see you ain' t even got a dime to drop | |
| Go ahead and call the cops, you ain' t said nathin | |
| Jerry Springyou out the studio, then Suge Knight you | |
| to the parkin lot, niggaz ain' t ready for all this heat we got | |
| Picture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough talk | |
| That' s like Christopher Reeves doing the crip walk | |
| Chorus |
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