Представляем слова песни "Testin My Gangsta", чтобы вы лучше узнали творчество артиста Three 6 Mafia . Эта интерпретация слов песни, включает скрытые смыслы и эмоции, вложенные автором. Лирика «Testin My Gangsta» — это не просто строчки, а личный прожитый опыт, который Three 6 Mafia передаёт нам, чтобы раскрыть все грани своей личности.
Three 6 Mafia - "Testin My Gangsta"
Lyrics to Testin My Gangsta : [DJ Paul Talking] [Verse 1: DJ Paul] I comes from a city where they love to hate, especially on that Triple Six They see we really got Bentleys and Benzs and they hate the shit They try to come up over us, the radio even help em at it But yall aint got no flows, so hang it up you silly rabbits Ima keep on hurting you boys, by making this motherfuckin world rock Side to fuckin silence bitch for years and man we still aint stop Still ridin clean, makin cheese and carrying plastic glocks And please dont try to test us cuz you know well let these bitches pop On you hoes, you haters, you niggaz really like us Cuz if you thank us, then you wouldnt try to sound so much like us Im the K-I-N-G of that M-P-H-M-S (Memphis) H-C-P, to the E-N-D, others gone be less Come prepared, man I swear they wanna be down with my team Dont let the shit talkin on them CDs fool you That aint what they really mean The truth can hurt so bad so look in they faces when you play us And watch how they look, and watch they jaw drop to the pavement Nigga [Chorus: DJ Paul] Why yall Test My Gangsta These bitches Test My Gangsta [Repeat 8x] Cuz its on now Bank Head its on now [Repeat 4x] [Verse 2: Lord Infamous] Nigga dont you know that Lord can make your life a living hell And I mean that literally, the place where demon spirits dwell Empty all the buck-shot shells, make your fucking body smell I can fuck you up somewhere, to where you were they cannot tell Fuck me with me, you fucking with the best Nigga so all you fucking with the wrong one I will hit you with the milli-milli gun, got a millimeter gun Blow out ya lungs Like them old I-Tal-Ians, Mafia, devil son When you see me coming, better run for fucking cover bum (BLITE!) AK, SK, .44, Tre-8 This body kinda heavy, D.O.A., air away Bitch you better take notes, fo you end up cut-throat And ya on the ground bro, with your fuckin shirt soaked Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo, blow a nigga out his clothes Come out the trench-coat with a Sawed-Off, and lay me down a hoe So if you think ScareCrow aint a gangsta come and test the waters You will be de-slaughtered, the dearly departed [Chorus] [Verse 3: Crunchy Black] Why you niggaz wanna test my gangsta' Dont make a nigga run up and shank ya Or put some cement in yo shit and sank ya Or make you shoot yourself and then Im thankin ya Throw tile over round your throat and drag ya cuz Get nothing from me, but gangsta love No testin me my nigga, have you laying in blood Or dig you a grave, cut ya bitch ass up [Verse 4: Juicy-J] (Yeah Hoe!) [repeated throw the verse] You niggaz be trying to test, I aint no slouch I squeeze my fuckin fist, my nig, I break the law I call out a hit my nig, I make the fall The handle with the bloody trig, is all they saw Fo yo ugly face was down, on the ground A barrel pointed at your frown, with hollow rounds I bet ya wanna run and shit, its too late now You shouldnt have been runnin ya lip, to make me clown Bitch! [Chorus] [ Testin My Gangsta Lyrics ]
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