Three 6 Mafia - Tear Da Club Up (da Real) lyrics

Chorus x12 Tear the club up, n***a tear the club up This for all the playas who be talkin' that sh** 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** We got some graves for your body Already dug n' sh** Ingamous grab the cali with a hundred rounds Koopsta load the tank And blow the ba*tards down Juice with the 2 nines like the n***a 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** is so thick When at the club we gets some bud We try to tear up some sh** Gangsta boo the gangsta b**h with the 3-57 The main goal in life Is a opposite heaven Triple 6 b**h Chorus x8 Deadly We should begin And come close to the k**er dimensions n***as gettin' mentions From the triple 6 acting christians May i mention Thugstas i said (??) are merceful I'm a step on the enemy n***as see d**h is unreversable Hard decision Afraid to see d**h is not fiction On you b**hes f** around and find you want to be kiss as with the mortition 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** Unless b**h i'm glad that you dead and gone Three 6 mafia signed out So make us f**in' tombstones Memphis is f**in' city Where lord infamous loves to ball And just like i said before b**h some with me to hell Everybody in this house You n***as know wussup Let me see can you motherf**in' tear this club up Chorus x8 Tear the club up n***a tear the club up All these playa hatas in the club Got us f**ed up I'm that n***a with them two nines Ready to blast When i pull a mag You motherf**ers better haul a** Paul throwin' chest in the air Koopsta locin' up Fly take the cash from your a** Mr. stick em' up f** the def security f** a motherf**in' cop If they take me out the club I buck em' in the parking lot Grab the club On the quick the wrist b**h 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**in' wall Shoe tones Leather fools to them jealous (??) f** these n***as Test that pimp And we gon' bury all you hoes Lacin' b**hes right in half Started em' straight Through the floor n***as talkin' plenty sh** But they ain' buck enough We gon' get some dinamite And blow this motherf**er up Chorus x8 Yeah