Hard Hittaz - Explicit Album Version

Yeah (yeah)
Three 6 (6)
Boogiemane ('Mane)
Hypnotize Minds ('Tize Minds)
You know (you know)
Niggas get scared when they see these hard hittaz (hard hittaz)
Walk up in the motherfuckin' club
We comin' to repossess and shit ('possess and shit)
They start talking like girls and shit (and shit)

(You can't touch me)
(Stand back)
(No!)
(No!)
Yeah

They got scared when these hard hittaz came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)
They got scared when these hard hittaz came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)

See, I'm a hard hitta, 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 cock it, go 'head and cock it
Don't make a nigga like me make you drop it

I'm ten toes, I'm from the M-fucking-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 yo' chains, you must be some sissy club
Do ya wanna go to war, nigga, and spit some blood?
You talkin' that shit like a fuckin' slut
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 hittaz came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)
They got scared when these hard hittaz came in
They got chains but they all tucked in
We got them thangs and we brought 'em all in
These niggas play dead when they hear we came in (came in)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Now if you wonder why so many diss Hypnotize
It's 'cause them haters ain't eatin'
They on some mutherfuckin' diets
A lot o' them is really sick, I think they got amnesia
'Cause on Sunday, they diss ya
But come Monday, they need ya

Quit tellin' lies to the public
If you could rewind your life back
You probably be with me on this track
But I ain't come here, my nigga, to put no salt on no wounds
But I'ma stay bumpin' 'til I bump my 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 fairytales, say you make the Three 6 sell
So while my pockets still on swoll? You reachin' in the garbage pail
Playa, 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
Pine in my mouth, fuck up your cloud, we gettin' paid
With the same playas to call our own and get away

What's the deal, dog? I be 'bout bucking 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 with holes, on that funk blow, throwing high low
Like I'm a pro, get buck, dog, get crunk, dog
But actin' like a fuckin' fool gon' get you jumped, dog



Credits
Writer(s): Jordan Houston, Paul D. Beauregard, Darnell Carlton, Booker Hunt, Paul Duane Beauregard
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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