Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): Paul Beauregard, Darnell Carlton, Cedric Coleman, Jordan Houston, Patrick Houston, Booker Hunt, Patrick Lanshaw, D Pannell, Anson Watts
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Three 6 MafiaBody Parts Lyrics:
Hoe, I gotta my Prophet Posse right behind me
Throw a chump and run a man through da crowd
He gonna give me sumthin'
Brap Rap my niggas and step 'em when K- Rocin
Don't fuck with dis, see
See if you wit' me, if you wit' me mon
We buck 'em down, we buck 'em down
Only one comin' out of that back door
Slangin' my yae-o, rollin' on them po-poes
Dropin' that viper, smokin' that indo, makin' that bank roll
Stupid ass bitches, don't you know?
Killa Klan Kaze playas makin' them profits, hoe
Chillin' down on the lower level, waitin' for my time to come
With this fool a million styles
Maybe I just might make bond
Release me on my own [unverified] back on the streets
With no employment, no doubt
Without no cheese up in my pocket
Tell me how can I have enjoyment throughout my life
Say mo shit, knowin' MC Mac don't love no bitch
Because if I loved them, I cant trust 'em
Breakin' this rocks gonna make me rich
The Kaze, my Klan, my click must buck
'Cuz there's no testin us, pop 'em and drop 'em
Lock 'em and top 'em, all up in my trunk
Dynamite I'm tossin', hatas crossin'
It's da end bitch, you runnin' into bullet proof
Hoe, we still da Triple 6, prophet to da P
Earsin' niggas that wanna skrive with flows of horror
I'm droppin' like Steven Spielberg deep into da mound
Ain't nuttin' but killas up in da dark
I'm creepin' with the hatchet with slicin' body parts in da park
Moon full of blood could it be another Jeffrey Dahmer
I'm sneakin' and creepin' and blowin' up shit
Like da Una Bomber, bitch
Rollin' wit' da devil on da level, dig yo ditch
Bitch, hitch, wit' da hi-ka on da mi-ka
I'll make your ass wish, hickory, dickory, dock
Ass I pull out my glock and I'm ready to pop on de bitch
Sissy muthafucka, bringin'' da ruckus
I'm bringing my niggas because we don't stop dis shit
Yea, do Triple 6, brang it real, real
Mutafuka down to pack a steal
Still I fuck a fly, I pac a real, real on da mic
Like Evander Holyfeild
There's no cries in my life
There's no game that I would play
Some people say that if you play a game
Then man you get 'em played back on you
I thought you knew you shouldn't have neva dissed this click
The 3 6 Mafia, we popin' slugs that got you bitches sick
I've neva be brothin'
Koopsta stands out from the niggas
Who thinkin' they hard, I flow up to star
Bust in like you da boss, Kaze got my back
Now watch how quickly I react wit' that
Boom, boom, boom, nigga, rat-tat-tat-tat
Juicy, Paul, and Scarecrow are rollin' in that bucket low
And they causin' some static
So they reached and grabbed them 44's
Fuckin wit' my nigga Black, he's stackin' plus his pimpin'
Got real on da peal, hoe's gonna feel me
Shut the fuck up, bitch, it's Infamous
Your ass betta not scream, don't make me hafta wipe
Your muthafuckin' brains off my sheets
I'm gonna burn you, watch you burning
Like my bad dreams, give you to da beast in the pit of hades
Thunder rolls, stormy black clouds
I stole the 7th seal then the angel cried that's Scarecrow
I love you, I wanna bang with you forever
But you too evil though we gonna give you to the devil
What's up? Do you wanna come against me?
Do you wanna get your ass earsed off the M A P?
Devils daughter comin' out, nigga betta watch out
Because you got the queen of sins
Nigga, I'm gonna turn it out, comin' to you mean
Because it's in me to fuck you up
Listen here, dude, it's a ride
So just buckle up smokin' on a fuckin' blunts
Till my mind's about to blow, motherfuck the universe
Because we brought you da end, hoe
First I want to grab a nigga by his neck, drag 'em to my fuckin' set
Take the nigga blow and his cheese and them cigarettes
Put my gun up to his nose, tie 'em up from head to toe
Take the bitch to EverGreen, throw 'em in da bayou
Call my niggas, D and Blue, Project Pat, y'all know what to do?
Creep through the streets with them thangs, blast on any fool
Triple 6 killas in this motherfucker runnin' shit
If you wanna playa hate the click then you done with
Gotta keep my head up, no need for me to stop it
Get stuck, so ruck wit' luck as to rollin'
Because Gansta Blac can't get fucked
Look fool we creepin' on Ken
From Martin Luther and we wit' me
Ain't nuttin' but Prophet and thugs
And S P V's all up in me
Rimie sippin' while trippin'
While rippin' coners wit' Juice
Women rippin' while dippin'
And ain't no stoppin' this dude
So if yo' bank ain't on swoll
Ain't no stoppin' the Prophet
That's who was straight for the eight
And look who in it and out it, nigga
Look in da eyes of a mad man
Shoot 'em in the head man
Level on dat coco, playa stata calla, da balla
Killa Man, fill the man with slugs when I'm full of drugs
Trust I'm on ya fool, drug and a fuck 'em up
Can't stand in the first round fool
Down and what you learned to do
But you ain't got the right tools clowin' on your new C.D.
Now hoe tell me what that proved
I ain't seen shit new
Check ya bunch of bodies out of film, hoe
The Prophet Posse let ya live
We'll kill ya next year
Kill 'em and robb 'em and beat 'em
And dump all they body parts into my trunk
Whoop, whoop
Kill 'em and robb 'em and beat 'em
And dump all they body parts into my trunk
Whoop, whoop
Kill 'em and robb 'em and beat 'em
And dump all they body parts into my trunk
Whoop, whoop
Kill 'em and robb 'em and beat 'em
And dump all they body parts into my trunk
Whoop, whoop
All the niggas that was in da shit
Just diss niggas and give shouts out to they hoods
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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