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Three 6 Mafia

Sippin` On Some Syrup

  rap  hip-hop  dirty south  southern rap  hip hop
972 3 часа назад

Текст песни Three 6 Mafia - Sippin` On Some Syrup

Three 6 Mafia - Sippin` On Some Syrup слова песни




Sippin` on some siz-erp, sip, sippin` on some, sip (Repeat 8x) Pimp C- For a trill, working the wheel, a pimp not a fimp 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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