Hard Hittaz
Boogie Mane, Three 6 Mafia
Yeah
Three Six
Boogie Mane
Hypnotize Mindz, you know?
Niggas get scared when they see these hard hittas
Walk up in the motherfuckin' club, we comin' to repossess and shit
They start talking like girls and shit
You can't touch me
Stand back
No, no
Yeah
They got scared when these hard hitters came in
They got chains, but they all tucked in
We got them things and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)
They got scared when these hard hitters came in
They got chains, but they all tucked in
We got them things and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)
See I'm a hard hitter, yes, I am
And I don't really nigga give a damn
About you and how you fuckin' rock shit
I put a 45 that make you bitches stop dead
You wanna cop it, go 'head and cop it
Don't make a nigga like me make you drop it
I'm ten toes I'm from the M-fuckin-Town
We gangster walkin', you hear the fuckin' gangster sound
It's ashes to ashes, dust to dust
The gats we trust, y'all don't really wanna bust
I see you and your crew, nigga, in the club
You tuck in your chains, you must be some sissies, cuh
Do you wanna go to war, nigga, and spit some blood
You talkin' that shit like a fuckin' slug
You talk shit then you might as well bring shit
I shut this motherfuckin' club down for you, bitch
They got scared when these hard hitters came in
They got chains, but they all tucked in
We got them things and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)
They got scared when these hard hitters came in
They got chains, but they all tucked in
We got them things and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Now if you wonder why so many diss Hypnotize
It's cause them haters ain't eatin', they on some motherfuckin' diets
A lot them is really sick, I think they got amnesia
'Cause on Sunday they diss ya, but come Monday, they need you
Quit tellin' lies to the public
If you could rewind your life back, you'd probably be with me on this track
But I ain't come here, my nigga, for no sorrow, no wounds
But I'ma stay bumpin' 'til I bump by head on my tool
For real
Niggas wanna blame us 'cause they ain't famous
They wanna ride a new whip instead of catchin' the MATA bus
So why I gotta take the blame for lame ass niggas not havin' things?
Maybe you need to boost some clothes, get yourself some pocket change
I know you like them fairy tales, say you make the Three 6 sell
So why my pockets still on swoll, you reachin' in the garbage pail?
Player, I'm out the frame with it, name a price and J'll spend it
Get yourself a nine to five and try your luck on a lottery ticket
What's up, nigga
Wanna be bad as the next nigga
True facts, you ain't gettin' shit but fuck nigga
Buck nigga catchin' the cut when I rush nigga
Jump nigga thinkin' you cool you chump nigga
Fuck that, I'ma get nine to get mine
If you hood, dog, off in the club, I'm on shine
Pint in my mouth, fuck up your cloud, we gettin' paid
With the same place to call our own and get away
What's the deal, dog? I be 'bout buckin' and getting crunk
And really dog 'I could care less about stunts
In my trunk though' where you gon' ride after the show?
Ain't no punk goes so I suppose you'll get throwed by some elbows
Fuck it, I'll fill his ass wit' holes
On that funk blow, throwin' high low like I'm a pro
Get buck, dog, get crunk, dog
But actin' like a fuckin' fool gon' get you jumped, dog
Written by: B. Hunt, Darnell Carlton, Jordan Houston, Paul D. BeauregardLyrics © BMG Rights ManagementLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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