Lyrics 3 Freaks - DJ Shadow, Mistah F.A.B., Turf Talk

3 Freaks

Keak Sneak and a… Turf Talk and a…
Dos in the trunk and you gon' get the shit
If you think it’s almost over it’s not
If you don’t know what I’m saying it don’t matter just don’t bite it aight
I pulled up, jumped in the scraper
Me no pay for nothin' I’m spending a bitch’s paper
Thigh, leg, wing, my nigga an' no biscuit
Got the star strut, hey Turf, look at these chicks
Eenie meanie miney mo
Mamas, I need a ho
Black, white, brown, Asian, even a Belizean, bro
Freak like A. Howard, thick as a Mayflower
Every minute, every second, oh, did I say hour?
I don’t wife 'em, I one-nights 'em
Keep it trilly trill, keel, I don’t like them
Hit like a Mack truck
Go dumb and I act up
You too close boy, back up
Thizz kids, that’s us
Sick wid it, mackers, pimps, skillets and masters
Movie stars, ballplayers, bosses and actors
No fakin' and frontin' 'cause ain’t no flukin' and jivin'
Need a freak a leak
Gimme head when I’m driving
It’s Mistah FAB
The dummy retarded
Dude from the gutter and sewer but still smooth as velour
Man it’s FAB-E Leroy
Your boy, dat go
The remix of 3 Freaks from my homeboy Shadow
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Droop-E and FAB
We need 3
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Man, we need freaks
Start drummin', we comin', we goin' dumb and yellin' «Yee!»
(Droopy: You know what? That makes me mad)
(Uh oh)
Rock wit' it or not
If I can’t get in the club… the club in the parking lot
I come mobbish
Keep a tree rag so my teeth won’t tarnish
So they want hyphy
But if I jumped on top of your car you wanna fight me (Come here li’l boy!
Get outta here)
Girl drive, don’t look at the meter (Go, man, go!)
Talk hella loud in the movie theater (Shut the hell up!)
So what they from the hood
So what they from the hood
I know the pussy good good
I know the pussy good good
They used to say I had the wack flow
Look at me now, they handin' me they demos
How 'bout you?
You and your potna
Tires got beef, they wanna burn the block up
Is that skim milk?
Or even silicone
I got 3 freaks with room for one more
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Droop-E and FAB
We need 3
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Man, we need freaks
Start drummin', we comin', we goin' dumb and yellin' «Yee!»
3 in the house Jack Tripper he had 2
But I keep something thick online like what it do
It’s Keak Sneak, baby and did I mention I’m crazy
Even Joe can see that you ever ever my lady
I got needs and my wants is up to you
Poppin' tags and believe me that 3 is better than two
So I oh I, skee-skirt, figure 8, mayne
(«3 freaks in the Firebird, headed for Brisbane!»)
Droop-E, oh, man I’m so raw
So nacho grande, you damn taco
I’m from the turf where we treat freaks like dirt
Skeet skeet all in her skirt
(Ah!) Feels good
Pull my pants up and I’m back to the hood
And I ain’t sayin' she a slut (Bay Area!)
But your girlfriend likes me (Light em up!)
I can tell like a rat’s butt (Here we go!)
(Oh!)
You know what’s up wit' me
I go dummy
Droop-E get money, G
7−0-7 streets (Yee! Yee!)
The Bay is back, you beezy
You a hater
I put hella holes in your clothes, you faker
I go mainey-er
And I’m still riding with a kater
That’d make your shirt look like notebook paper
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Droop-E and FAB
We need 3
Turf Talk and Keak Da Sneak
Man, we need freaks
Start drummin', we comin', we goin' dumb and yellin' «Yee!»
(REMIX!)
Aight y’all, if you ain’t got four 15s, do NOT be playing this!
It’s a slapper, baby
We touchin' all corners of the Bay wit' this one, y’all!
Ay mayne, I need the next American Top Model, mayne
The prettier they are, the quicker the drawers fall
Yes sir!
Droop!
Shadow!
Keak!
Yadada Turf!
Yeehaw!