Three 6 Mafia - Try Somethin (feat. Project Pat) lyrics

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Three 6 Mafia - Try Somethin (feat. Project Pat) lyrics

(Project Pat - on the phone) Yeah it's Project Pat up in this Representin' "Layin' the Smackdown", "North North" Three 6 Mafia fin a rip it like it's supposed to be Handle that sh** (Project Pat) Jack one, smack one, run off wit ya sack son Anybody wit the loot, give it up or I'ma shoot Bow down M-town, n***as like to ride clean Snort on some good dope, smoke on some good green Friday payday, so I'm at the Shake Junt Lookin' fo' a big lick, fiendin' for a fat blunt Saw my victim caught me one slippin' On the side of the club takin' a pissin' No mask on face I didn't really need it He can be damn fool and he'll get heated Point blank, snatch bank, runnin' like a track star Heart pumpin' fast like I ate out the crack jar No one saw me made clean getaway That means that I still live to get paid Late night, all night jackin on the spizot Breakin up a dice game or where it's hizot (Hook: Crunchy Blac - repeat 2X) (I'm a rob me some n***as) Mane I'm f**ed up A n***a gotta try something (I'm a rob me some n***as) Mane my lucks up A n***a gotta try something (I'm a rob me some n***as) Mane I'm dead broke A n***a gotta try something (I'm a rob me some n***as) Plus I'm out of dope A n***a gotta try something (Juicy "J") I ran up in the bank put a tone to his head Told the clerk this a robbery n***a drop the bread Then I ran like a b**h when my folks was outside So I jumped in the car, mashed the gas start to ride The westside of Tennesse, until I heard the news n***a should have went to Mexico, my face was on the tube Most wanted for a felony I should have stayed in cla** I was a stupid as n***a I didn't even wear a mask (DJ Paul) I guess you know by now the BHZ do not play My p**y valley are down and gonna spray They still robbin' n***as and jackin' fo yo clothes And have you runnin round like college girls exposed My Tulane n***as you knowin' they stayin' strapped Beside DJ Paul they put The Haven on the Map But it's too many hoods in The Haven to claim So we gon all bring guns we gon' all bring pain (Hook x2)(cruchy blac) (Cruchy Blac) You can do what ya do to keep ya a** in It's CB and mane I ain't playin Wit pistol in my Muthaf**in right hand I'm a stick it to ya body, and start demandin Me muthaf**in money out ya f**in pockets Give me them rings and that f**in' watch n you Betta listen up before I start poppin it's me again I'm constantly robbin (Lord Infamous) Slap on his block wit the Glock And lock'em down to the rocks Fiendin' for his knot in his pocket strip him Down his socks, grab and feel this 44 Hopin' steam right off this scope And I let him smoke If I go in ya pockets and ya broke Ya got a lotta nuts rollin' my hood on ya twa*kies Now ya gotta drop off them b**hes and that ring on ya pankies Either ya give me ya green, ya pills, and ya powda Or I gotta pump the gauge and let you take a buck shot shower