Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia - Stomp songtekst

Je score:

These are the things
 They held me vision
 Seein' more things
 Me and DJ Paul
 We got the hook off
 We gon' stee
 We gon' play socidal to go slappin' through thy window
 Somethin's creepin' up slow
 It was a Lodus
 Read about a hoe
 Some sippin' on the women
 Who gon' want to cross my fules  attention
 Not only was you weak
 Need another nigga drivin'
 I stop the car
 Said do you want to buck em'
 Rough Koopsta
 Shirt I knew your hurt
 Take the bridge back
 Take a bag with them slugs
 Sentence see your gone son
 Devils in your Chris
 It's the coulda me dree z's
 Koopsta got em' stee
 Make prophet me
 See that's what you get for talkin' shit
 Trick I drop you in the splunder
 Cut you up like Jerry Springer biatch

 Come, come who the fuck
 They want some
 Niggas want to jump, jump
 Get'cha make ya pump, Paul
 Still gon' miss ya bump, bump
 Off a nigga fakin'
 Goin' to a richin'
 Bitches turn to shaken
 Mafioso rule by
 And he will act a fool
 when he don't give a damn
 If your fuckin' red or blue boy
 Couldn't buy the wet slide
 Goin' on this best lide
 Lord Infamous done with tight
 When me gotta get mine
 You know what I want
 But do Koopsta gets it
 Storm on this bitch
 Like some new used confetti
 Astronomical Triple 6
 Writes space on top of astroids
 Comin' to rip up the shore
 We killin' the fool
 So act a fool boy

 Chorus x4
 Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
 (lay at, move his ass down to the pump)

 How long gon' go deep
 In the North
 When niggas stay drunk
 And smoke on your portch
 From on my streets
 Wit all only peeps
 I used to scratch
 And throw down beats
 I made a mix
 With real deep bass
 The noise I had to be slangin' tapes
 DJ in this shit try to make that shit
 Tone be speakers that stack they crates
 Studio 9 was the place to be
 Where all jocks were tryin' to get
 The chance get on the tape
 Bein' a fool
 Keep tryin' i'm not goin' to quit
 The club was packed from wall to wall
 The gangsta walk is what we call
 Whn niggas are buckin'
 I'm still gonna dance
 The third a fool
 Let's look if all
 We took the club
 And show no love
 Just throw in our face
 And gettin' refunds
 They might wanna fight
 Later on the night
 Cause Memphis playas don't give a fuck
 Security junk
 We smack the punks
 For throwin' us out
 For smokin' a blunt
 The number ones on
 It just cam on
 And now it's time to fuckin' stomp

 Juicy's in the motherfuckin' house
 It's the peel yo
 Motherfuckin' stand back
 It's they fuckin' steelo
 On your fuckin' ass
 We can't fuckin' brag
 Cause we comin' up
 Robbers on my ass
 Should I blast
 Cause they runnin' up
 Maybe it's my premadin'
 No present turn to yo
 With the sayin'
 Saw your nine
 Boy I call that kick door
 I stick those
 Bitches in my trunk
 And now we back to my hood
 Don't want the left they die yet
 But he wishin' he would
 Wasn't in the mood
 For this bunk shit
 But these niggas had to creep
 That boy they stupid
 I sit, I leave these hoes for a permanent sleep
 And now we out the club
 We gotta get em' up
 Triple 6 and Prophet Posse
 Ya'll know we make em' stomp

 Chorus x4
Vind dit lied op:
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amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Prophet Entertainment

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1996

Taal: Engels

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