Lyrics Live By Yo Rep - Three 6 Mafia

Live By Yo Rep

-This is ???
Shalonda, Bone Magazine, here interviewing…
-Three 6 Mafia
-From Memphis, who has a unique quality of rap style, what would you do if
someone tried to duplicate your ideas?
Lord Infamous takin 1000 of razor blades
And I be pressin them into the flesh
Takin my pitchfork up out of the fire
And soakin it down in their chest
Through the ribs, spines, charcoalin the muscle tissue
And sendin what’s left in the mail to mammy
Cause I think she just might miss you
But first, I want to slowly pull off all your skin
Get grease and boil it hot pour it on you and your dead friends
I probably outta be not be so horribly slaughtering the body
I am so naughty because I am moderately in to photography
Following through the autopsy
No love for them bustas so just pour some acid all over them, too
That’s what I would do, Skinny Pimp what would you do?
Just look into the eyes of the mask
Slangin the AK to knock out my enemies
Fear of the razor, da blast, he done passed
I’m leavin no trace of the evidence
Bodies sit in box chopped up in pieces
His soul done rose, I placed them tubes up under my mattress
My conscience is black and it’s strange
Cause I murdered a victim, the Devil just rushin my time
With this 9 in my hand causin death when you sleep
In the casket I leave you no killas in mind
Pullin a jack, reach me that cheese, make a stupid move
Then ya bleed
Bustin 17, please don’t scream, don’t run
Either long range street sweep
Never ever run from the buckshots, bust em at ya back
When I’m full of yak, ain’t no clue
In 2 deep, you sneak, we creep, Juiceman, what would you do?
First the Juice look in the white pages for this trick
Mafia-style fool cause you don’t know who ya messin with
Caught him slippin in his home, minimum breathin on the phone
Warnin sign to let you know I’m comin so you better be gone
Wether ya run I be stoppin ya, with the 2 9s I be poppin ya
Witness a killa from North Memphis of the Three 6 Mafia
2 killas at yo front door, 3 killas at yo back door
His broad peeked through the curtains
And saw them gats pointed at the window
Nothin but destruction after we touched em
Man I thought you knew
That’s what I would do, Gangsta Boo what would you do?
Think about a master plan on how to buck them bustas dead
Gangsta Boo this pimin playa comin with the livin dead
Yes I’m so so crazy
So so wild I be like puttin blood on you trick
Torture your body with nothin but fire
Then I calmly shoot you quick
Blast you in yo head make sure you dead
Cause I don’t want you to live
My words of wisdom:
The weaker the victim the bigger the thrill is
The Three 6 Mafia do not feel sorry and that’s how the story goes
We full of them leaves so we proceed to take all of your soul
It’s not a problem when I be buckin them suckas
I do it smooth
That’s what this Lady Boo would do, now Paul what would you do?
First I hit up Crunchy, and I get full of that holy smoke
The Devil’s already up in a killa
So I feel I have not to go too far to loc
This time you crossed the wrong click
Beware your murder’s all on my mind
Plus Satan’s inside
Movin my hand a little closer to this plastic 9
Burnin from the angle, my glock knows more
Every blink of the eye
But before it’s all gone, Bone, quickly I’m stickin them?
Loogers?
To watch you die
Dropped ya to your knees, now it’s time for you to bless
Man, I be DJ Paul, Da Killaman, with a fist full of fire
Punch a hole straight through yo chest
So bustas hear me close, you stole some styles and dis that’s cool
But steppin up to the bloody glock 9 millimeter
Three 6 dang fools, ain’t fools the best, what would you do?
Bone, live by yo rep cause we know you bound to slip
When we blast with that mask we gon empty this clip
See we can’t tolerate no sissy that is Layzie
Broke out the blender and I made some Krayzie gravy
It’s Eazy, and when it was time to get Bizzy
Don’t break, you can Wish, but You can’t escape
Because we crave dead Flesh
Three 6 tricks, easily you can be next
-Yeah, the Three 6 Mafia, straight outta Memphis, breakin these bones like it
ain’t shit, for the 9 nickel, triyaaaaaack!