Testo Live By Yo Rep - Three 6 Mafia
Testo della canzone Live By Yo Rep (Three 6 Mafia), tratta dall'album Mystic Stylez
That's cold as a motherfucker, I wish I had some ole funkdafied
This is Shaquisha Shalonda, Bone Magazine
Here interviewing the Triple 6 Mafia from Memphis
Who has a unique quality of rap style
What would you do if someone tried to duplicate your ideas?
Well, I shall take a thousand razor blades and press them in the flesh
Take my pitchfork out the fire soak it in their chest
Through the ribs, spines, charcoal the muscle tissue
And send what's left back to yo' mammy 'cause that bitch might miss you
But first, I want to slowly peel off all your skin
Get grease and boil it hot, pour it on you and your dead friend
I probably oughta be not be so horribly slaughtering the body
I am so naughty because I am moderately into photography
Following through the autopsy, but man fuck it, pour some acid on them too
That's what I would do, Skinny Pimp, what would you do?
Just look into the eyes of the mask
Slangin' the AK to knock out my enemies
Fear of the rage of the blast he done passed
Leavin' no trace of the evidence
Bodiez are in box, chopped up in pieces
His soul done rose I placed the tubes up under my mattress
My conscience is black and it's strict
'Cause I murdered a bitch and the Devil just rushin' my time
With this nine in my hand causin' death where you sleepin'
The casket I make you no killas in mind
Pullin' a jack, reach me that cheese, make a stupid move
Nigga, ya bleed
Bustin' 17, please don't scream, don't run
Either long-range street sweep
Never, never run from the buckshots, bust 'em at ya back
When I'm full of yak, ain't no clue
In two deep, you sneak, we creep, Juiceman, what would you do?
First a nigga look in the white pages for this bitch
Mafia-style nigga 'cause you don't know who ya fuckin' wit
Called him at his fuckin' home, nothing but breathin' on the phone (hello?)
Warnin' sign (hello) to let you know I'm comin' so you better be gone
Wether ya run I be stoppin' ya with the two nines I be poppin' ya
Witness a nigga from North Memphis of the Triple 6 Mafia
Two killas at yo' front door, three killas at yo' back door
These hoes peeked through the curtains
And saw them gats pointed at the window
Nothin' but destruction after we touched 'em, man, I thought you knew
That's what I would do Gangsta Boo what would you do?
Think about a master plan on how to bust them bitches dead
Gangsta Boo the Devil's Daughter comin' with the livin' dead
Yes, I'm so, so crazy, so, so scandalous, I will hurt you, bitch (lay down, ho)
Torture your body with nothin' but fire, then I calmly shoot you, bitch
Blast you in yo' head make sure you dead 'cause I don't want you to live
My words of wisdom, The weaker the victim, the bigger the thrill
The Triple 6 Mafia do not feel sorry for none of you dirty hoes
We full of that weed so we proceed to take your fuckin' soul
It's not a problem when I buck you, bitch, I do it smooth
That's what the Devil's Daughter do, now Fly what would you do?
Clizick with the real Triple six niggas for yo' death
Ain't no shame up in my game, as you take your last breath
Six niggas trill, ready to kill, bustas, suckers jump (bitch)
Pull up fucked up, clickin' on you lemons, Fly don't call you punk
To you fuckin' imitators, watch yo' ass fuckin' click
Bite a Playa's style and slip, soon you will be stackin', bitch
Fly gon' bring them body bags, Lord, you touch the fuckin' shovel
Dig it deep and bury that bitch, lay 'em down there with the Devil
Busta numb, red rum, Mr. I-B-N, fool
Oh, that's what lil' Fly would do, now, Killaman what would you do?
First, I hit up Crunchy, and I get full of that Holy Dope
The Devil's already in me so I ain't gotta go too far to loc
You fucked up with the wrong click, so your murder's all on my mind
Plus Satan's inside, move my hand to this plastic nine
Burnin' from the aim, my Glock knows more every blink of the eye
But before it's all over, you'll have two Lugers in your weak thighs
Fall on to your kness, now it's time for you to 'fess
My fist full of fire, I punch a hole straight through yo' chest
So any trick that wanna bite of this, everything is cool
You heard what I would do, and the Triple 6 whole fuckin' crew
Nigga, live by yo' rep but I ain't takin' shit
When I blast on yo' ass, I'm gon' empty this clip
Nigga, live by yo' rep but I ain't takin' shit
When I blast on yo' ass, I'm gon' empty this clip
Nigga, live by yo' rep but I ain't takin' shit
When I blast on yo' ass, I'm gon' empty this clip
Nigga, live by yo' rep but I ain't takin' shit
When I blast on yo' ass, I'm gon' empty this clip
See, we can't tolerate no nigga that is Layzie
Broke out the blender and I made some Krayzie gravy
It's Eazy, and when it was time to get Bizzy
Don't break, you can Wish, but you can't escape (no escape, nigga)
Because we crave dead Flesh
Triple 6, bitch, easily you can be next
Yeah, bitch, the Triple six Mafia
Breakin' motherfuckin' bones like it ain't shit
For the nine-nickle, beeyaatch!
Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Houston, Paul Duane Beauregard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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