Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia - I Ain't Cha Friend lyrics

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Yeah  ya'll thought that underground shit
 Wouldn't gon' work in ya
 Yeah
 For the ouijas of sin is death
 For the gift of god is eternal life
 Through Jesus Christ our lord
 Roman 6 23 nigga
 Read it and weep  biatch

 (Koopsta Knicca)
 Hit a man bustin' up in my door
 So I grab my 44
 Now them bustas on the floor
 Covered up by pillows
 Oh no
 I'm lookin' for them trizicks
 Tryin' to put a group up in they clizick
 I'm comin' up quick
 I'm takin' no shots bustin' these caps off in these bitches
 So why you wanna mess with this
 So why you wanna take off this piece
 Fool I'm bad to the bone, jone, chrome tech (??) fatality
 You'll be fled
 I'll be glad
 When I make you hit that grass
 I ain't showin' no mercy
 God damn it I'm bustin' that ass
 I'm havin' cisions of flesh (??) like that roozer tech
 That mess in my head
 If the constantly teachin' this evil shit
 You hear some laughin' whose that in the window gaspin'
 Now if you feel me tell me whose that creepin' for your head

 (Gangsta Boo)
 This goes out to all of you suckas
 Includin' you crossers
 Includin' you bustas
 This shit is so fucked up
 I can't even trust ya
 This lady is tried of you motherfuckers
 I'm bumpin' so hard
 It's like oh my god
 Gangsta Boo is rippin' the mic all apart
 If your ass wasn't so full of that fart
 Never would you have tasted me from the start
 I'm trying to tell you hoe
 Let me tell you bitch
 You ain't my fuckin' friend
 Prophet Entertainment member known as Boo
 Had to tell your ass time and time again
 Ride with my click
 Bitch Triple 6
 Is all I need plus my weed and the n-i-n-e
 To keep you frilly hoes off of me
 Come into my face
 With that pimpin' ass shit
 Watch you see this gangsta bitch get scandolous
 You friendly ass hoes I scratch off my list
 I don't need you
 Don't want you bitch

 (Crunchy Blac)
 Friends like foes in these hoes
 Keep on talkin' that shit
 Actin' like they bad as fuck
 But they ain' really talkin' bout' shit
 Keep on dissin' this click
 And we gon' hurt one of you tricks
 Put your body in a ditch
 Or dig a grave for that shit
 Don't you ask who like it
 Crunchy Blac did it bitch
 Keep on talkin' all that noise
 And I'ma get big like big business

 Chorus x4
 I have to tell these niggas time and time again
 Bitch I ain't your fuckin' friend
 I'll do your ass in

 (DJ Paul)
 Smiles can be deceivin'
 Even if it's your friends
 And hoes that know we can't be even Steven
 Should not believe in
 Too late one of them slip it's my foes
 You already got my glock to the back of your head
 Prayers already said
 Done consider yourself dead
 Your family and friends might be sayin' that I crossed you out
 But nigga you was fake from the beginning
 So I had to toss you out
 Friend I'm no more
 I kill all you foes
 Step in my trunk
 And I give it to a stroll back
 The hammer release
 And leave your chest with holes
 All in the club
 With that buck ass tube and pot
 It's kind of hard
 you can't beat us
 And you can't join us
 Cause we ain't gonna stop if you don't stop

 (Scarecrow)
 Some of the superior astronomical bends
 From that of my mystical dreams
 Of the many scenes
 Mighty, manipulative, mercilous, multiple murderers
 Sit back in dangerous
 Hittin' and strippin'
 And critical injury
 Misery, seriously witness to the tremory
 Trajedy, agany, infamy, agany brutal mentality
 Assassatain
 My voodoo tribe
 If you don't want to be fried
 Put on a feary disguise
 Lord Infamous takn' no prisoners
 Forget the begging, pleading, and the cries
 Your reservation revalation
 A satanic nation
 Has be prophesized
 I can look in your eyes and tell that there is fear
 From the eternal burning of each of your lies
 Flights of headlights
 Black clothes and limos
 Another negro startin' to decompose
 From his casket the Scarecrow shall place a bloody black rose
 Who knows that hate
 That goes behind closed doors
 With corpses froze in six foot holes
 Wicked throws
 Evil flows and torturing of foes

 Chorus x4

 Yeah, I ain't ya fuckin' friend
 You do your ass in nigga
 (Laughter)
 Three 6 mafia comin' at your ass for the 9-7 bitch
 Yeah
 Watch your back niggas
 You know who you are motherfucker
 That brown shit would (???)
 (Laughter
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: Darnell Carlton, Jordan Houston, Lola Mitchell, Paul Beauregard, Ricky Dunigan, Robert Cooper (2)

Composer: ?

Publisher: Hypnotize Minds, Relativity

Details:

Released in: 1997

Language: English

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