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Versuri Three 6 Mafia - Sippin On Some Syrup
Versuri-versuri.ro > Versuri Litera T > Versuri Three 6 Mafia > When The Smoke Clears - Sippin On Some Syrupfeaturing UGK/Project Pat) 
  
 Sippin' on some siz-erp, sip, sippin' on some, sip (Repeat 8x) 
  
 [Pimp C] 
 For a trill, working the wheel, a pimp not a simp 
 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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