Three 6 Mafia - Don't Cha Get Mad lyrics

You know we gotta do one for all these niggaz out here sideline

hatin y'knowhatI'msayin... don't get mad cause a nigga straight up

out the paint shop or car wash or the car lot or whatnot... feelin mean on

the scene wit a pocket full of green y'knowhatI'msayin... and any one

of y'all hoes think a nigga gon give 'em somethin I can't give ya

shit but this dick in ya muthafuckin mouth and ya muthafuckin

hole and you gotta reach me somethin for that ho cause I ain't

for free bitch.. pay whatcha muthafuckin weigh

I pull up clean in my black fuckin truck

Rims still spinnin so you know I'm cuttin up

I'm ridin down the street bumpin nothin but us

I spotted me a freak she was bout to catch a buzz

I asked her whats her name baby it could be love

But you know ya boy don't fuck wit nothin but sluts

The ones that make money and stack them bucks

A bank for that cap and a bank for that butt

SLUT!

Nigga I'll tell yo gal she can suck on this big ol' dick

And won't be fucked up bout it if she pay her rent to a pimp

And in the public's eyes she can be legit be my bitch

At the shake junt she gotta work a trick get the grip

Never no back talkin cause I call her jack backhand slap

She come up short wit money baby then I snap wit a strap

She gotta let these hoes know who the shit runnin this

And you just might have to throw some blows take a hit wit the fist

Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist

Ridin ridin down yo block I got my charm out the window

Don't cha get mad when I swerve and I twist

I ain't braggin on myself but I deserve this miss

I'm swervin I'm twistin from side to side

I got that iron right on my side

Them 20-inch vogues wit the yellow stripes

A 'rillo rolled up wit some of that light

The 360 turn on the fold down screens

Turn it all the way around and watch it from the front seat

The knock in the back got the trunk on rattle

Them hoes flockin to my whip thick like cattle

HEYY.. you better put that money in my hand

I was born to be a mack not yo muhfuckin man

You mad cause I hit cha ho me and her split cha dough

Why you actin surprised I know you heard this shit befo'

Me and Quint pushin Vettes smokin dro no stress

One tech two glocks infra red no vests

I clock dollaz and pop collaz for a livin

I'm at Pressure World every time I hit Memphis