Left’em Dead lyrics

by

Three 6 Mafia


[Intro: Crunchy Black & DJ Paul]
Damn man a n*gga pocket f*cked up in this mother f*cker
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! that's f*cked up
A n*gga need to find out how we go get some
Dead presidents or something man
You know what I'm sayin a n*gga
Got to get straight around this mother f*cker
n*ggas got that mutha f*ckin sh*t, don't wanna share it
n*ggas we know you tight, mutha f*cker you need to share that sh*t
Before a n*gga break you off something
(Prophet mutha f*ckin Entertainment)
You know what I'm saying, You know what I mean, a n*gga go break you off
You need to share that sh*t, Motherf*ckers f*cked up round here
We go take care of that, something go have to get straight
Or something go have to go mother f*cking sour n*gga!
You know what I mean
A mother f*cker go have to handle ya mother f*cking ass
n*gga share that sh*t, A n*ggs know you on, A n*gga know you tight
You better take care of ya boys dog
You know what I mean, A n*gga go handle ya mutha f*cking ass
With the mother f*cking seriousness! b*tch!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Verse 1: Crunchy Black]
It's Crunchy Black the demon child, another mystery made
Another stang, Boo set it up, another n*gga in his grave
I'm constantly scopin' out you n*ggas with that rival sh*t
You think I'm straight, b*tch? I ain't straight, I'm out to get your sh*t!
My Smith & Wesson teaches lessons for you hard head ho's
To drop it off, you won't feel pain unless you don't do as told
But if you got ya f*ckin' pistols and ya think you can beat
The Three 6 Mafia, n*gga try ya luck and we'll see
[Verse 2: Scan Man]
It's a worldwide panic, so watch the Scan Man get his automatic
Then get crazy like a criminal cause these n*ggas don't know nuthin' 'bout me
Watch ya self when you stackin' wealth, keep that sh*t deep to ya self
Cause these killas from the Prophet Posse gon' lead you n*ggas straight to yo death
Cause we crazed with the rage, having a urge that can't be replaced
I'm talkin' 'bout leaves and them trees, then I walk with all yo cheese
Now prepare for the world to turn over
Cause them Prophet Posse n*ggas just have tooken over

[Hook: Project Pat]
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead

[Verse 3: Crunchy Black & Project Pat]
Man I'm gettin tired of all you playa hatin b*tches
Playa hatin on this game, you see a n*gga out to getcha
You see I heard through ya ho's you was flodgin bout ya riches
So I had to hit the Klan and tell 'em we had to come and getcha
So I told them I'll hit them back
So I can go get some facts
Scopin' out that n*gga shack
Making sure that sh*t is fat
Then I hit Lil Scan and Pat
Told em that that sh*t was fat
Then my n*gga Project said:
"When we go get this b*tch?"
[Verse 4: Scan Man]
Go to war
Crunchy and Scan drop them bodies off to the shore
There's no more enemy freaks
Trying to get buck with this click
I'm insane in the brain
Got me throwing bodies off the train
Acid rain from the sky
Wash the remains down the drain
In your yard, after dark
It's them n*ggas who like to rob
In ya face with no trace
You go vanish from this place
Loved one's cry cause you die
Scan Man's there to wipe they eyes
Lullabyes [?] tomb, so ya click is [?] soon

[Hook: Project Pat]
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
Young G's looking out for a meal ticket
Catch you slippin in ya sh*t and we will take it
To a level that you hoes cannot handle b*tch
Six shots from the Glock, left 'em dead
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