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Three 6 Mafia

Testin My Gangsta

  rap  hip-hop  dirty south  southern rap  hip hop
953 3 часа назад

Текст песни Three 6 Mafia - Testin My Gangsta

Three 6 Mafia - Testin My Gangsta слова песни




[DJ Paul Talking][Verse 1: DJ Paul]I comes from a city where they love to hate, especially on that Triple SixThey see we really got Bentley`s and Benz`s and they hate the shitThey try to come up over us, the radio even help em` at itBut yall ain`t got no flows, so hang it up you silly rabbitsI`ma keep on hurting you boys, by making this motherfuckin` world rockSide to fuckin` silence bitch for years and man we still ain`t stopStill ridin` clean, makin` cheese and carrying plastic glocksAnd please don`t try to test us cuz you know we`ll let these bitches popOn you hoes, you haters, you niggaz really like usCuz if you thank us, then you wouldn`t try to sound so much like usI`m the K-I-N-G of that M-P-H-M-S (Memphis)H-C-P, to the E-N-D, others gone be lessCome prepared, man I swear they wanna be down with my teamDon`t let the shit talkin` on them CD`s fool youThat ain`t what they really meanThe truth can hurt so bad so look in they faces when you play usAnd watch how they look, and watch they jaw drop to the pavementNigga[Chorus: DJ Paul]Why yall Test My GangstaThese bitches Test My Gangsta[Repeat 8x]Cuz it`s on nowNigga yeah it`s on now[Repeat 4x][Verse 2: Lord Infamous]Nigga don`t you know that Lord can make your life a living hellAnd I mean that literally, the place where demon spirits dwellEmpty all the buck-shot shells, make your fucking body smellI can fuck you up somewhere, to where you were they cannot tellFuck me with me, you fucking with the bestNigga so all you fucking with the wrong oneI will hit you with the milli-milli gun, got a millimeter gunBlow out ya lungsLike them old I-Tal-Ians, Mafia, devil sonWhen you see me coming, better run for fucking cover bum(BLITE!) AK, SK, .44, Tre-8This body kinda heavy, D.O.A., air awayBitch you better take notes, `fo you end up cut-throatAnd ya on the ground bro`, with your fuckin` shirt soakedIni-Mini-Miny-Mo, blow a nigga out his clothesCome out the trench-coat with a Sawed-Off, and lay me down a hoeSo if you think ScareCrow ain`t a gangsta come and test the watersYou will be de-slaughtered, the dearly departed[Chorus][Verse 3: Crunchy Black]Why you niggaz wanna test my gangsta?Don`t make a nigga run up and shank yaOr put some cement in yo shit and sank yaOr make you shoot yourself and then I`m thankin` yaThrow tile over round your throat and drag ya cuzGet nothing from me, but gangsta loveNo testin` me my nigga, have you laying in bloodOr dig you a grave, cut ya bitch ass up[Verse 4: Juicy-J](Yeah Hoe!) [repeated throw the verse]You niggaz be trying to test, I ain`t no slouchI squeeze my fuckin` fist, my nig`, I break the lawI call out a hit my nig`, I make the fallThe handle with the bloody trig`, is all they saw`Fo yo ugly face was down, on the groundA barrel pointed at your frown, with hollow roundsI bet ya wanna run and shit, it`s too late nowYou shouldn`t have been runnin` ya lip, to make me clownBitch![Chorus]

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