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triple bitch mafia - playa fly lyrics

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triple triple triple triple
triple b-tch mafia mafia mafia
flizy flizy flizy flizy flizy
fli flizy comin gunnin three six runnin

verse 1:

hangin low cheefin high time to make you b-tches cry
triple b-tches talkin sh-t f-ck you hoes are gonna die
playaz comin harder won’t bothered by yo pettiness
break the law so super slaw boy you can’t compare to this
playaz on the scene for you green, jealous funky hoes
a fifth of tech will get respect, plus you hoes full of blow
now the f-ck you figga you’d be bigga cause you makin cheese
half the sh-t you makin b-tch, glorifyin gangsta b.
thinkin bout my n-gg- clout, playa fly’s in the house
fly so high funkytown, man you love to hear me shout
n-gg- its official when i get’cha they gone miss you punk
tie you to n-gg-z b-mp but busta you won’t reach the trunk
crunk from my b-mb and blunt now my bodies numb
give me one i got me one now busta you gone give me some
just cause you crave, me so great times a stoppin ya
proppin ya, droppin da triple b-tch mafia

chorus:
triple b-tch mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
flizy, flizy comin gunnin
three six runnin
(repeat 4x)

verse 2:

man i wish you n-gg-z would, do the sh-t you clam you could
stillin, robbin, killin, mobbin, never in my f-ckin hood
busta come on face the fact, rollin three blunts and a sack
i hear you mention funkytown but never touch the funky pack
in others words, gangsta blac makes ya f-ckin heart stop
drop to ya f-ckin guns, leave you reachin for ya glocks
ain’t no time for reason and thrown pieces in the air side
call this matter life and death, man you walk a thin line
crime on my mind yo its murder and i’m on them slopes
any b-tches clamin sixes ho you goin up in smoke
as i hear them country raps, comin from a crunchy blac
man you soundin super wack and fly know who behind that
pranksta boo, ho you through, ho i gotta get you too
facial featchers favor h-ll ugly duckling of the crew
and to you, you handicap b-tch ya i’m watchin ya
flizy gone -ss-ssinate the triple b-tch mafia

[chorus] (repeat 4x)

verse 3:

roasten toasten triple duck, triple tradin set it up
runnin felony or jack, f-ck around and get it stuck
f-ck feelin f-cked now what’s up, put you on the spot
triple six is sayin sh-t, marks would p-ss them plastic glocks
put the pistol in yo face, if you run f-ck the chase
hollow tips would stop the pop and lemon pillers win the race
catch a case i never wrote, smoke to keep it on the low
busta talkin off the map, wonder do yo rollas know
tricky ricky scarecrow, cooler then his clan though

riden wit the triple b-tch is but ana ‘ho
now you know, and to you, busta b-tch call up koop
talk so weakly to that b-tch, now that ho is runnin you
juicy clam he smokin sqaures playa know you a lie
as we cheefed them mega blunts, i thought you was bout to die
now i’m stayin super high and raisin trigger itch
if you keep on talkin sh-t, i’ll triple fix a triple b-tch

[chorus] (repeat 6x)

[talking until end of song]

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