Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia - Sippin On Some Syrup songtekst

Je score:
Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip (Repeat 8x)
 [Pimp C]
 For a trill, working the wheel, a pimp not a simp
 Keep the dope fiends higher than the Goodyear Blimp
 We eat so many shrimp, I got iodine poisoning
 Punk niggas make me sick with all the pidgeoning and bargaining
 You say that you a boss, I ain't believing that shit
 You got a funny Geneva evil watch, with the Ferrari kit
 Take that monkey shit off, you embarrassing us
 I got the web from mezzazine, thick orange and yellow cuffs
 Hyper called on, on the hands-free phone
 The '84 roam, on them blades, 20-inch chrome
 If you got 16, you can get a biz-erp
 I'm choking on that doja sweet and sipping on that sizz-erp

 [DJ Paul]
 Niggas scared to flaunt it, some niggas they want it want it
 Some niggas they join it joint it, but I be fucked up up on it
 Well we're the Mafia 6, and we ain't bout that bullshit
 If we gon' get high we gon' get high, and we gon' haves a bitch
 Two niggas all at the mouth, niggas all at the ass
 And plus there's some type of niggas that
 Caught all night and she cool with that
 She popped off a pill of X, and drank off some orange juice
 And just when you thought she was freaky she done got super loose
 Niggas come in by threes and twos, all in circles like duck-duck-goose
 All it wanted, can flaunted, she on that X and the tootie fruit
 40 dollars for just one ounce ounce plus
 The next is how its no ounce niggas
 Niggas sipping and dipping and tripping, man I'm bout all out

 Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip (Repeat 4x)

 [Juicy J]
 People always asking me, "Me the Three 6 high on that"
 Rolling on them X pills, scurry pup-pup powder packs
 Woah-wuh where the weed at, ain't like that we need that
 Night crillers slow me down, want something that keep me easy
 Nothing like that yella yella better hey you're itching man
 Talking like you "What's up, fool?" Vocal chords sounding lame
 In my days all we did was G-fight on the quarter pound
 Gone on coke, eyes are buck, he should have knocked you down
 Now you're out, lay up all asleep when you're up on them wheels
 Ain't no doubt, hit me when I peep for this wheat field
 Once again, on my wicked high, gotta have that dank
 Heard my name, Gino, I feel like I'm gonna fucking faint

 [Bun B]
 Let me continue what you know, I bring Nito and Young Guido
 Hauling Vito, we play a tune sweeter than ?Bedito?
 With my Three 6 niggas hoeing up in my southern creedo
 Quick fast, we'll put it on your ass like John Vito
 Cause you fronting rap sanger, be creamy like a Zanger
 You ain't from the major boy, but you gets the middle finger
 Humdanger, rum dranker, occaisionally take
 Your bitch to the Tilly and be a dick and cum slanger
 When Big Bun come danger, nigga ring your alarm
 Sexy thang on my arm, cup of drank in my palm
 And that crazy shit, I'm tripping on some skinny bitches
 Some the hoes, I'm Florida the foes
 And for the most I'm steady sippin' on some

 Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip (Repeat til fade
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Copyrights:

Auteur: Bun B, Pimp C

Componist: ?

Publisher: Hypnotize Minds, Loud Records, LLC

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2000

Taal: Engels

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