A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Three 6 Mafia

"Beatem to Da Floor"

[Juicy J]
So this is what I'm a do man, you know what I'm sayin'
I'm a get each of you n*ggas, you know what I'm sayin'
From the bay by the b-ball piece, when you see this n*gga
You know what I'm sayin', I want y'all to whoop his b*tch ass
Man you know what I'm sayin, beat his motha f*ckin ass
To the ground like a motherf*cker man f*ck this b*tch ass

[DJ Paul]
See this how ass kickin' get down, your boys get
(Beat down!)
Your b*tches get
(Beat down!)
Your brothers get
(Beat down!)
Your mothers get
(Beat down!)
Your cousins get
(Beat down!)
And any n*gga that try to clown we leavin' em on the ground
'Cuz we stomp a hole, until his ass throw up, and after that
Them signs is gettin' thrown up, I'm answer to the right
I'm answer to the left, we snatchin' your chain and check
Your pockets 'till nothin' left

[Crunchy Black/Juicy J]
I'm a crunk this n*gga though, treat 'em like a ho
Ask these lil' b*tches what the f*ck they hittin' for
Crunchy ain't a ho, and Crunchy can't go, and
Crunchy ain't a n*gga that you wanna f*ck with low
If you didn't know, then n*gga you can know, then meet me
Down foo in the middle of the floor, I'ma break it down slow
And fill you up with dro, and smoke a little that 'till I
Can't smoke no more

I'm gon' whoop this n*gga
I'm gon' whoop this n*gga
I'm gon' take it outside click click (Boom!) with the trigger
I'm gon' rob this boy, I'm gon' mob this boy
I'm gon' call the f*ckin killers do a job on this boy

[Chorus]
We gon' beat em to the floor, we gon' beat em to the floor
We gon' beat em to the floor, we gon' beat em to the floor
We gon' beat em to the floor, we gon' beat em to the floor
We gon' beat em to the floor, we gon' beat em to the floor

[Lord Infamous/Juicy J]
You don't know what just happened
You suffering from a fracture
You rebel let me catch you, I'll beat you belly bast*rd
You have a bad concussion, from tripple six bone rushin'
You all beat up and busted, you shouldn't have pressed that button
You all bloody and bumy, you yellin' for you mommy
And people think its funny, quit tryin' to out run me
Your eyes are blue and black and, your clothes are ripped and tackin'
You thought that you could hack it, you shouldn't have wore that jacket
'Cuz I wreck it, smith and west and my weapon, we steppin'
To let the still meet your chest and, don't play with these killers
They come from those parts, the north where n*ggas be pullin'
The whole cart, so mista big playa mista big time playa
You got the sh*t on lock why you on my di*k
Like a b*tch walkin' around like you stone high
Hollow tip bullets don't die, n*gga they multiply

I'm gon' whoop this n*gga
I'm gon' whoop this n*gga
I'm gon' take it outside click click (Boom!) with the trigger
I'm gon' rob this boy, I'm gon' mob this boy
I'm gon' call the f*ckin killers do a job on this boy

[Chorus]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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