Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia - Who Run It lyrics

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[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 motherfuckin room, nigga boom
 Get on your back so we can get up soon
 Stab you in your heart with a har-fuckin-poon
 Nigga boom, nigga boom

 [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
Get this song at:
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Copyrights:

Author: Thom Bell, William Hart

Composer: ?

Publisher: Hypnotize Minds, Loud Records, LLC

Details:

Released in: 2000

Language: English

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