Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia - Just Anotha Crazy Click (feat.Three 6 Mafia & Twiztid) songtekst

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LET OP! Het lied is van Insane Clown Posse ((feat.Three 6 Mafia & Twiztid)

[Violent J/Shaggy 2 Dope]
I choke you... nah, hold up
Aight, listen...Fucking go
I stab you with an umbrella, and then open it
No!
'Cause I'm sick like a diseased Ethiopian
That shit's wack...aight, fuck that....aight, hold up....aight, c'mon...
Wait a second, listen!
I'll peel your cap back with a cannonball
I buck 'em all
Fuck 'em all
We standing tall
Three 6 Mafia, Insane Clown Posse and Twiztid

[Juicy J]
We used to--we used to--
We used to rob for them petty things
Like a gold chain
Or a motherfuckin' pinky ring
Now it's cocaine
If you see me on the dope train
I'm the dope man
Cigarettes in my right hand
Ready to make a stang
Old folks scared of eye gain
Out the window pane
They be looking with a migraine
While I catch a drain
And you know it's a fucking shame
When you in this game
Trying to sell to a sprung lane
I control your brain

[DJ Paul]
To my niggas, bust Glocks, fuck wit' us, bitch see
It's the buckest of the four, bust a trick, make em' bleed
Through his neck, through his back, nigga, cover them hoes
Ain't nuttin' else gon' be workin' when you twirkin' wit' some pros
Automatic with the carrier
Silence on the barrier
Hang them in the closet, kidnap the treasurer
Bandanas on our face, wildin' out like some cowboys
Ho, we need the keys and I'm talking like, now boy!

[Gangsta Boo]
We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gon' lie
Put your guards up, show them who really running the streets with them Calicos
I'm causing shit with ya, can't come close
We be just another crazy clique, doing whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch, I ain't gonna lie
Put your guards up, show em' who really runnin' the streets with them Calicos
I'm causing shit with ya, can't come close

[Monoxide Child]
We the clique that don't play
Quick to rip your head off and hand it to Violent J
And bury it away
I'm on the spree
Killing for free
Without a conscience
Bitches, we on a mission to bomb shit
Twiztid, ICP, with the Triple Six clique
Hoes that pop lip
Can eat a dick
Or get your neck slit
I'm having these memory lapses
Of bodies off in the caskets
With no heads
Monoxide, ruler of the dead

[Jamie Madrox]
We 50-deep on the lawn
With the Psychopathic leathers on
You say it's on
So come bring it on
We getting crunk at your funerals
Treat us like we criminals
We Juggalo individuals
We just another crazy clique
ICP, Twiztid, Triple Six
All up in this bitch
And we running shit
We doin' driveby's on all y'all with chainsaws
Pure uncut, redefining rugged and raw

[DJ Paul]
To my niggas, bust Glocks, fuck wit' us, bitch see
It's the buckest of the four, bust a trick, make em' bleed
Through his neck, through his back, nigga, cover them hoes
Ain't nuttin' else gon' be workin' when you twirkin' wit' some pros
Automatic with the carrier
Silence on the barrier
Hang them in the closet, kidnap the treasurer
Bandanas on our face, wildin' out like some cowboys
Ho, we need the keys and I'm talking like, now boy!

[Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope]
Just another crazy clique to fuck around and bury ya
Taking care of ya
We scarier
Than malaria
I walk around your neighborhood like Frankenstein
Choking anybody I find
I'm taking mine

You mothafuckas can't get near it
Cause you fear it
Look at my glass eye, I'm sick like Lou Gehrig
I don't know judo, but I go KEE-YA!
Fuck you up so bad, a wheelchair couldn't see ya

Listen... (POP)
Ya hear that, slut?
That was me... pulling this dick out ya butt
I'm a juggalo serial killa, steady screaming, "fuck y'all!"
I stab bitches with a chainsaw

We walk around Compton and Watts beatin' scrubs up
And right in Tim Dog's face we throw the dubs up
We tearing clubs up, down south from the D
Three Six y'all, Twiztid, and ICP

[DJ Paul]
To my niggas, bust Glocks, fuck wit' us, bitch see
It's the buckest of the four, bust a trick, make em' bleed
Through his neck, through his back, nigga, cover them hoes
Ain't nuttin' else gon' be workin' when you twirkin' wit' some pros
Automatic with the carrier
Silence on the barrier
Hang them in the closet, kidnap the treasurer
Bandanas on our face, wildin' out like some cowboys
Ho, we need the keys and I'm talking like, now boy!
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2000

Taal: Engels

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