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three 6 mafia - tear da club up (da real) lyrics

chorus x12
tear the club up, n-gg- tear the club up

this for all the playas who be talkin’ that sh-t
the 3-6 show no love
we quick to murder a trick
you could be a friend or foe
kinda down or not
i’m rollin’ wit that fool crunchy and we got them glocks
backed up, bout’ a 4-5 and a 38
you wanna take this click
don’t won’t fool it’ll be a mistake
chris bring the mosperd with the slugs n’ sh-t
we got some graves for your body
already dug n’ sh-t
ingamous grab the cali with a hundred rounds
koopsta load the tank
and blow the b-st-rds down
juice with the 2 nines like the n-gg- nashay
on the move shoot em’ up
so so they feel the pain
i thought you knew
that i’m from memphis where this sh-t is so thick
when at the club we gets some bud
we try to tear up some sh-t
gangsta boo the gangsta b-tch with the 3-57
the main goal in life
is a opposite heaven
triple 6 b-tch

chorus x8

deadly
we should begin
and come close to the killer dimensions
n-gg-s gettin’ mentions
from the triple 6 acting christians
may i mention
thugstas i said (??) are merceful
i’m a step on the enemy
n-gg-s see death is unreversable
hard decision
afraid to see death is not fiction
on you b-tches
f-ck around and find you want to be kiss as with the mort-tion
executional style buck in your head
while your beggin’ on your knees, uh
better you bustas flip to the morge
and the chillin’ in the cold freezers
(??) his deadly punishment
then me and my triple 6
we go and blow a house up
do that trick
i can give a f-ck
unless b-tch i’m glad that you dead and gone
three 6 mafia signed out
so make us f-ckin’ tombstones
memphis is f-ckin’ city
where lord infamous loves to ball
and just like i said before
b-tch some with me to h-ll
everybody in this house
you n-gg-s know wussup
let me see can you motherf-ckin’ tear this club up

chorus x8

tear the club up
n-gg- tear the club up
all these playa hatas in the club
got us f-cked up
i’m that n-gg- with them two nines
ready to blast
when i pull a mag
you motherf-ckers better haul -ss
paul throwin’ chest in the air
koopsta locin’ up
fly take the cash from your -ss
mr. stick em’ up
f-ck the def security
f-ck a motherf-ckin’ cop
if they take me out the club
i buck em’ in the parking lot
grab the club
on the quick the wrist b-tch
in the trunk
take him out and take his money
then i spit on the punk
now i’m crunk
break em’ bottles up against the f-ckin’ wall
shoe tones
leather fools to them jealous (??)
f-ck these n-gg-s
test that pimp
and we gon’ bury all you hoes
lacin’ b-tches right in half
started em’ straight
through the floor
n-gg-s talkin’ plenty sh-t
but they ain’ buck enough
we gon’ get some dinamite
and blow this motherf-cker up

chorus x8
yeah

- three 6 mafia lyrics

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