Last man Standing - Three 6 Mafia, M-Child, Gangsta Blac

Last man Standing - Three 6 Mafia, M-Child, Gangsta Blac

Альбом
The End
Год
1997
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
303690

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Last man Standing

Three 6 Mafia, M-Child, Gangsta Blac

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

Torture til they gone, never stay alone, killas, laser chrome

Hunting in the zone, where the enemies roam

Massacre the town, fire all yo rounds, make 'em all fall down

Please don’t make a sound, hear the Devil growl

Please don’t go to sleep, never go to sleep

You may not awake

Cause I’m goin to take you deep down beneath

The Scarecrow’s in the woods, creeping through the woods

Creeping through yo hood, please don’t be so scared

Go and take a look

I got behind the steel, may I be forgived, I didn’t mean to kill

Now I wipe your bone and blood off my windshield

I’m sitting in the park, fire on the logs, watching body parts

Burning into sparks, bloodied up my saw

Lord Infamous is me, psychopathically, driven in the mind

Seek and you shall find my evil is blind

Cause I give a fuck less, color of your flesh, I just want to mess

Up your fuckin' chest with my jet black tech

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

Playa what you know about the south side?

Not a damn thing, but yo ass do not realize

South is takin over, nigga, squashin all this bullshit

North, east, west, it’s all good, gotta represent

Comin with the quickness

Oh my goodness, it’s this gangsta bitch

Never solo only roll with niggas down with Triple 6

What you gettin jealous fo?

Nigga you don’t know me so

Busta it’s a mafia world, Mafia makin money ho

Yeah, this Triple 6 Mafia click it’s real

Fool it ain’t nothin fake

We tote them Glocks and keep them cocked

And never hestitate

You wanna run up to this click and talk that flaudgin' shit

And have yo ass tied up and thrown away off in a ditch

Or see me bitch, drop to yo feet while you flow 20 deep

Deep in the Mississippi River wrapped up in a sheet

And then ya know the Last Man Standin can’t be you or me

How could fuck with this and my fuckin N-i-n-e?

BEEYATCH!

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

The Last Man Standin’ll never be part of the B.O.N.E

Comin from that?

4−0, searchin for my enem-eny

Niggas tryin to come quick, shut it up you fixin to die trick

40 caliber, gonna rowdy ya to the brains, you fixin to die, bitch

Huh, in the Mid-south we cannot see ya

Mane never wanna be ya

When you come up out that Chevy with yo draws off

Sawed-offs we be aimin, never with yo games-es

Automatic my brains is, shootin yo fuckin brains in

Three 6 mutha fuckin Mafia, fools we gon rocket ya

Wanna after party ain’t no stoppin us

Comin from the M, ain’t no love for her or him

Here’s a blast from that blast

Man I doubt ya even last in the past

You thought you had some characters, fuckin the wrong click

6 niggas gonna carry ya, I bury ya

Bitches alive after the rest of my demands

The Three 6 Mafia, the last to stand

After the war is over

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

Deuce, deuce down, drinkin crown with the Texas thugs

Scrugs, ain’t no love, catch me slummed of them fuckin drugs

Boys Club bound, lost and found, biggest man around

Never try to break me down, .380 gon' fuckin clown

You don’t know this nigga

What malt liquor got you thinkin strange?

Rico with that four-four through the d-izz-oor

You don’t know this man

G-a-n-g-s-t-a, bitch, glorified shit, trick

Ain’t no need for this cause a man will kill you quick

Nigga!

It’s almost nightfall, let me slip on my murderer mug

A smile to a frown make a nigga think that I’m on drugs

Orange Mound where I be, Mack M-Child is who I be

A young to arrested got you stressin to my mystery

Psycho kids split yo wig, all over the mighty dollar

Fuckin with my Devil this ho let the steam up out yo collar

Comin deep, Mafia deep, puttin you niggas to fuckin sleep

A bomb in yo pager, now watch it blow when the Child beep

BITCH!

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

You don’t know me, a record can’t tell ya

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