Kishore Kumar Hits

3X Krazy - The Sickness lyrics

Artist: 3X Krazy

album: Immortalized


[Swoop G]
Right back at cha!
Uh, 3 Times!
Let these fools know they fuckin wit... MOBB LIFE!
You know, B.A., Mr. Kamakazie
Keek Da Sneak, Sneaky One
Ager Man, my boy
3 Times.
[Verse 1: Ager Man]
First off all
I got no time for these bitches thats smilin all in my face
These niggas like bitches be fake,
From head to toe laced up wit hate, nigga
I'm a playa!
Ridin, cuz fake niggas be scary liers
Runnin tired
Got me strapped up in a zone to open fire
You got killas, we got killas to play the game of cash
Too many softies tryin to copy, but now I'm up in they ass
See mama raised me to be a leader, so mutha fucka follow me
When the funk go down we ridin' deep,
Wit a, I got you, an a you get me
Fear no man but God, so if it's on, its on
Cowards can come an get ya, but I'ma get ya later on
I'm all bout me an mine
Fuck the snitches, fuck the bitches
Keep an out when we ride
Cuz we on a mission for riches
Nigga feel this, laced up by realas, dealas an killas
That give a fuck about ya feelin's, cuz nigga its strictly business
Nigga what? Back up off me you softie
I'm a cold piece of work like a dope fiend when
You bitch niggas try to cross me
[Chorus x2: Keek Da Sneak]
The Sickness of a million niggas
Envy the enemy
The remedy? leave ya mind froze
An blind fold, an tied up in a truck
That says THREE TIMES! fa ya mind hoe
An they find foes in a Cutlass sweet.
Destruction of East.
[Verse 2: Keek Da Sneak]
K-R-A-Z-Y just fuckin' it up everytime
It's trip gold an shine
(An I...) keeps my nine
You gettin robbed nigga
I put that on the Mobb nigga
So don't be slippin
Hatin an seregatin an thought them youngstas wasn't trippin
Do G's get to go?
When the weapons hit the spot
An all you damn impersonators gotta pay
Get fucked wit an A-K
Bitch you bit it
On the verge?
No longer ready
See yous a poodle
An when you see them niggas betta up ya shit
An yous a?
Jew-els an?
Burbons an Harleys
Reported stolen, you bitches so niggas is ridin' Charlie
Lavishly coordinated, this family tree
Paraphanalia 2 Tha M.O.B.
Got it tatted on my stomach
Three Times! When I run it
An
That's what I'm sizzilin gettin them bucks
An aint no bitch gettin free fuck
It's A.O.B. for the Nine-say whaaa?!
In the cut
Throw out my dezzle
Tryin' to get off the hizzle
Til the next nigga rizzle
What the fuck he talkin' bout "pull pistols"?
What fizzle?
You gotta minute
Pulled him over, I shot his ass
Two left, so I bounced in
Wanna hit the bomb? Bitch hold ya breath.
[Chorus x2]
[Verse 3: Bart]
Nigga what?
We come out the cuts an fuck shit up like straight mobbstas
Niggas is dyin to die but ready to ride like Face Mobbstas
Boy, ya feelin this gangsta paradise?
Dealin we shakin the dice an watch you end it wit yo life
We sold a gang a buddah
Like?
You juss a cutie, you actin like them groupies
So you dyin to tell a hoochie
Juss a bootsie nigga
I hate niggas thats down to rape niggas wit bitches
You steadily stackin ya chips but bumpin ya gums to all them bitches
Nigga I know you love to hate us
Boy ya should wake up
Before we touch ya fuckin face up like mascara make-up
We stackin more chips than in casinos
Dippin' in Reno
Mad cuz we pocketed all them C-Notes
Nigga crack some cee-low
Shoot ya shottie an get forgotten
Cuz me an my peoples gon get ya peoples an gets to mobbin.
[Chorus x2]
[Swoop G]
Mobb juss like a muta fuckin body blow or sumpthin
No hittin nigga wit this, 3 Times shit!
You know, can you handle it?
Cuz a mutha fucka might fold up an fumble
Ooops!
Steppin on niggas, you know
Crawlin on niggas, but then we steppin now
Sucka ass!

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