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three 6 mafia - be a witness lyrics

(killa klan kaze)

[chorus]
killa klan, come get this, big business,
motherf-cker be a witness

(k-rock from killa klan kaze)
now i was coming in up in memphis on that
motherf-ckin real sh-t
bullets in chamber, fill it with anger, paid all my
dues to triple the 6
scanman might take your hand, slowly grab to the
pistol grip
see crunchy black up in the back loading up my
extra clip
coppers got me in a chase, i can’t catch no murder
case
i pulled over, got my glizz,i took my hand and
popped the cop
dj paul looked at me, nervously without a sweat
carlo haywood got his check, robbed the dope mane
broke his neck
ox and vogues put up on hoes, stinging like a
b-mble bee
european chevy thang pop out woodgrain leather seats
south memphis, killa, playaz, we got brand new tape
for sale
mystic styles b-mpin loud in the sand ford bring a
crowd
chevy thang with your clip, project with the f-ckin
pump
cuz show me love, k-rock locked’em in the f-ckin
trunk
d-mn i’m going crazy mane, razor blade cuttin in my
hand
maybe i’ll be savin babies, f-ck my lady i’m the man
rappin’ aint no f-ckin thang, triple 6 be
biggity-bangin’
shootin’ up me block, witta me glock, it woulda
been ol’ k-rock
finna be c-ckin’, attackin’ and poppin’
and droppin’ these coppers like enemy n-gg-s
that can’t pull the trigger, i figure this pimpin’
that’s livin’ them limpin the triple 6
now i’m back when i been on the track wit the
scarecrow
cuz the dj paul pop in the clip, no slippin’ you’re
trippin i’m taking no lip
n-gg-s i’m droppin your musical style
killa klan gonna blast them b-tches, catchin ’em
when they steady pimpin’
triple 6 gonna warrned your -ss, b-tch we have no
f-ckin witness, f-ckin
witness

[chorus] -4x

(mc mack from killa klan kaze)
i got a street sweeper just to keep these playa
hater n-gg-s up off my back
but yet i’m always the center of attention, pimpin’
-ss n-gg- known as mc
mack
you best believe i’m packin ammunition for these
busta snitches
stangin, robbin, aint no thing, a pimp done went
rags to riches
hustling on the track, my ends is stackin, cuz i’m
breakin heifers
make my cheese, b-tch break your knees
(god-daaamn!) the pimpin mack is
clever
bustas trying to playa hate me, but they cannot
aggravate me
droppin sawed off in my game, but mc mack will
never change
i’m cheffin like an indian and thats the type of
stage i’m in
i’m blastin wit this f-ckin trick, we stangin like
a f-ckin wasp
provoke me, joke me, play me, make me buck your
b-tch -ss, pull your card
we creepin late at night with them thangs on the
roody-poo,
trick lets see who’s hard
i ask myself the question why these watermelon
n-gg-s wanna cramp my pimpin
jealous cuz i’m ridin on gold and sweatin these
hoes up out they clothes
so brace yourself for the impact of the mack, this
aint the first of the month
and we breakin bones in half, and blastin b-tches
hoe so be a witness, be a witness

[chorus]- 4x

(scanman from killa klan kaze)
there’s no love up in a n-gg- when i’m creepin for
a killing
when you b-tches slips, the mac-10 clicks, buckin
b-tches with no patience
so in a minute that’s when you lie dead, from the
buckshot through your chest, bullets
fled ripping and stripping and home again and worn
to shreds
pimp sh-t killa scan the man, i leave them b-tches
scared from horror
of the corpses that i toture sufferer, in them
chambers
the morning, the crying, cuz eternally they torment
the burning (shhhh) in the bottom of my pits b-tch
i’ll rise back up on you n-gg-s real quick just
like the evil dead
my master with evil powers to devour you b-tches
that burn in h-ll
i’m clickin with madness form the triple six killa
demons
the anger that’s in me got me crazed man
i’m lurkin i’m creepin, here come the scan man
sneakin in to drop a mac-10 bomb and leave bodies
in a slum
the killa klan m-ssacre, leavin them b-tches to rot
in them ditches
when vengeance of demons slit young b-tches and rip
them, in pieces
no love b-tch

chorus till end

- three 6 mafia lyrics

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