featuring Dayton Family



Hahaha

1998

Three 6 Mafia

Hooked up with the motherfuckin' Dayton Family

Are ya'll ready for us

Bring the pain

Bitch ya'll ain't ready for us

Miphia style

Flip Time

98

Rollin' like dees

Smoke the trees bitch



Chorus x2

We mafia is it too much (We mafia mafia mafia ya)

Are you ready for us (We mafai mafia mafia ya)



Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000



(Scarecrow)

Mixtures of sin and gin on sight

Cut the wings off an angel

On both sides

I'm suin'

Huntin'

All them suckas

State your last name first

Meyers, Michael

Lord is killin'

Three 6 killin'

What else will I say

Even children

Probably don't give a fuck if you are naughty or nice

At night

Sacrifice

Good bye, lights out



(Juicy J)

Can you feel me

Can you hear me

Did you pick the scene

A lot of fools done fucked around town

Showed up in your dreams

Standin' in a hideaway

Inferred, them guns spray

Gotcha shakin'

Gotcha nervous

Knowin' not how to get away

Lookin' out the window pane

Cause all your gonna feel is pain

In your yard I see a tree

I also see your body hang

See the phone

Pick it up

The wire that is only cut

I meant to pray

Your still gonna die

Too late bitch

Your time is up



Chorus x4



(Dayton Family)

What the fuck you wanna do

Be a victim of my homicide

If you try to jack

I'll leave you dead head in the g ride

And creep up out my vehicle

And continue my jack move

Still gat under the dirt

Now put it up in your hand

Now ain't that smooth

Motherfucker

Snooze motherfucker

Move motherfucker

Loose motherfucker

Put your face down to the floor

And don't you take a look up

I heard about what you cook up

See bitch this is a stick up

I'm takin' you off your tippy toes

Take your cheese

And fuck your hoes

Givin' you crack sacks, macks back in your Cadillacs

Drop glock in my draws

Extra clip up under my balls

My dick's like a 44

Fuckin' up your pussy wall

You ran your lip about your grip

And I'm takin' in on the stash box

Your pockets are swoll hoe

And I'm lookin' for a jackpot

I wear a mask on my face

So I won't catch a case

Keepin' it low key

Don't nobody know me

I'm just like a snake

When I creep through your window

So motherfuck the cops

Cold hard on me kin though

So motherfuck the 5-0

It's all about survival

I leave them like d-o-a

Bitch that's dead on arrival



Chorus x4



Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000



(DJ Paul)

Give'em two

To the head

Three to the neck

And the other fuckin' tip

Too his motherfuckin' chest

Gotta buck him down

Gotta buck him down town

Talkin' bout' these clowns

Talkin' shit up in my fuckin' town

Since he ain't dead yet

Check his head

Check his chest

Playa should have guessed

He was strapped with a fuckin' vest

Hoe you should have known

You was fuckin' with the Triple 6

We bust

I knew you wasn't ready for us



(Gangsta Boo)

Am I too much

To avoid, can't you fuck with us

In the Lexus truck with Juicy J

Getting fucked up

Tearin' the club up

What be bumpin' on the radio

Mafia is what I'm screamin'

Till the day I die hoe

More game for the lame

Educate them bitches man

Stay in focus

Hocus pocus

Tryin' my best to maintain

High as the sky

Is why it's my business bitch

Open up your own fuckin' account

And get up out my shit



Chorus x4



Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000



(Crunchy Blac)

6 bitch

So don't you fuck with this click

Cause if you fuck with this click

You'll get a little of this (gun shots)

You must don't know who you fuckin' with bitch

Cause we leavin' bodies in body bags

Drop em' off in a ditch

Know I mean kid

know I mean kid, huh

See we come from

A natural bomb

A natural gun

A natural gimme some

Don't make me make your body numb trick

And have you hollerin' out mafia mafia mafia mafia



(Koopsta Knicca)

Stick em' dead

Kill em' dead

Rush them tricks on down to the flo'

With north Memphis convicts

Bithces call me Koopsta hoe

Fuck me once never twice

Wrapped up on that game of dice

How can I lie

When at nine hundred times

You said you was a man of the house

I don't really done it

Koop you hung around that nigga man

Try so hard to be a soldier bitch

But come out to be dealt with trick

I'm sick in the head

Better call Fred

Dirty red

Yeah, yeah you gon' look

Too late fuckin' fool

Cause you drownin' in your poo poo