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lirik lagu three 6 mafia – jus like us

yeah, run b-tch, run hoe, ya nice motherf-ckas
y’all jealous -ss b-tches
you know what i’ma call y’all? some jello n-gg-s
‘cuz y’all jealous of us, b-tch

every motherf-cker in our camp ridin’ clean, n-gg-
y’all know the motherf-ckin’ score
and this one right here is dedicated to you
it’s dedicated to you, n-gg-

they wanna dress like, wanna sound like
wanna be like, ride like, get high like, make cheese like
the motherf-ckin’ three 6, b-tch you got a problem wit ’em?
the motherf-ckin’ three 6, hoe you got a problem wit ’em?

i’m from the part of tennessee called spv
spray pesty varments, catch ya busta boy
i beat ’em, blow ’em up outta his dorments
punk -ss n-gg-s be tryin’ ta stick
a light up under me, like some ornaments

don’t make me grab the case
that’s fulla the weapons and hand ya [unverified]
b-tch ya killin’ me, besta be eatin’ some porridge
you got some courage, punk motherf-cker
don’t make me go get that there uzi up under the storage
b-tches, bl–dy satan waiting [unverified]
armageddon soldiers comin’ to [unverified]

you trying to be like me, you can’t be like me
it’s hard ta be me, like them stunts on tv, g
you see me, hustlin’, workin’ my muscle-in
puttin’ my 2 cents where it can be trusted-n

you musta been a silly fool
thinkin’ you could wear my shoes, d-mn fool
i walked a mile, i hauked ’em down
i understand now, why everybody don’t wanna frown

1 thousand, your kid kidnapped and f-cked in the mouth
2 g’s, wife never seen again but nothin’ to brag about
3 thousand, car blown up, house burnt to the ground
4 g’s, run up in ya weak -ss show, lettin’ off rounds

5 thousand, best friend found naked and decapitated
6 g’s, yo broke -ss barried alive ‘cuz yo -ss hated
7 g’s, he ain’t even workin’, i kill a n-gg- myself, dead
catch ’em in tha haven put somethin’ hot up in his head

i’m real from the junt
(junt)
never was a punk
(punk)
north memphis bound b-tch
buck -ss h-ll and crunk
(crunk)

you might catch me deep
(deep)
on your f-ckin’ street
(street)
buckin’ wit the tech-9
sweep you off yo feet
(feet)

drankin’ on that liquor
(liquor)
chillin’ wit my n-gg-s
(n-gg-s)
hangin’ on the corner
wit a f-ckin’ rusty pistol
(pistol)

step up to me hoe
(hoe)
when you on that blow
(blow)
i’ma, till you hit tha flo
(pop, pop, pop, pop, flo)

ahh, please don’t test the wrist or steel this
waitin’ for she tell, pop, every style mystic
pimp sh-t, hits never miss those red
settin’ you a miss, when i spray the ak

plus i flex-a h-lla gay, will you catch a boy?
ever since a boy, always had black toy
so we ain’t goin’ out, no punk, i’m knockin’ out y’all
dead body, froze, [unverified]

well, all them hoes that used to be down with me
i signed a deal, made some money
now you b-tches downin’ me? b-tches tryin’ ta blast at me
or am i dreamin’ the motherf-ckers be after me?

why you tryin’ ta be like me? you labeled as a wanna-be
you ghetto hoes, you need to read up on this gangsta boo
‘cuz you might find a tip, b-tch, that can help you
i’m a down chick, n-gg-s be wantin’ ta crown chick
stay around chick, whenever, however, it’s goin’ down, b-tch

- lirik lagu three 6 mafia

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