Lyrics Smoked Out, Loced Out - Three 6 Mafia, Prophet Posse

Smoked Out, Loced Out - Three 6 Mafia, Prophet Posse
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Smoked Out, Loced Out, artist - Three 6 Mafia. Album song Prophet's Greatest Hits, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.01.2007
Record label: Hypnotize Minds
Song language: English

Smoked Out, Loced Out

Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out, lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Nigga, what you know 'bout the K-Rock the bald head?
Nigga, we Prophet, motherfucker, don’t stop it
Scan fuckin' man wit' the Glock, make 'em drop it
Damn fool, what’s this?
Step into the cut, just smokin' and smokin'
See me locin' and chokin' it
They buck, buck, buck when the po-pos come again
Buck, buck, buck, buck!
Now I was chillin' and ridin' with a couple of my niggas
They caught the motherfucker slippin'
With a mean look to my face, «where you goin'?»
You dodgin' my bullets, runnin' from the deathbed
Two shots to the head, now that nigga dead
I’m outside, be high
Motherfuckers is smoked out and loced out, dead
If it’s a nigga with Anna, let it flow to the grave
Let it roll to the dead
Scarecrow sophisticated
Thugsta packs his heat
Gun barrel smokin'
The little Infamous’s start kickin' in
Gettin' me hype
On a little bitty pipe leak
Fool you better watch your shit
Comin' up at me quick
Like ya up to somethin'
What’s wrong gonna make me drum
In a world war three to the rock ch-chainsaw massacre run
Across the day I saw that afterbirth comin' out the med room
And ever since that day I’ve been wanting
To put a motherfuckin' slug behind some niggas earlobe
It’s weird though, It’s weird though
No hollows there is no tomorrow
The Kaze, Lord Infamous, horror
I beat you negroes all goodbye
Sayonara
I’m so high I want to die
Ain’t no reason why, why
Ain’t no fuckin' alibi
I be wonderin' why
Why do I roll so many blunts
Do I pull them Three 6 stunts
Juicy catch me before I jump
Jump off of the ocean side
Ocean side call it suicide
Suicide is no fuckin' crimes in the devil’s eye
It’s black
Black in this motherfuckin' bitch
Nothin' poppin but them motherfucking Mafia Six
I’m getting smoked out loced out
Staying on top shit
Don’t playa hate congratulate me
Give me my props bitch, ugh
No top notch niggas I’m scopin' so you can’t stop
The prophet the posse
The whole damn click strapped with somethin' cop
Don’t think I would have sympathy for shit that I said or did
I’m daddy’s little girl that got caught up in the wrong shit
So listen to my words of wisdom this shit is so so real
The realer the bitch come the stronger the nut will
When you hear the word Triple 6
You get sick
Cause you know it’s many in our click
Strap that dick
When the hollow points touch your skin
Then it rips
Travel through your body then your friend
Yo wig split
Man you busters know the mob don’t play
When we spray
So it’s best that you stay outta our way
Or decay
Layin' your coffin in your grave
Is where you lay
Instead of walkin' round' here like you brave
Now let us pray
Loced out, smoked out where them killas hangin hoe
Deep down south in the ghetto where we slangin' dope
Lyrics do you fear it when you hear it
Enter in your head
Hypnotizing young motherfuckers
Leavin' others dead
Scared from the sight
But the truth Project Pat’s gonna preach
Strugglin' every night
It’s my niggas that I’m tryin' to reach
Locked in the pen
Who would never see them streets again
All for the mighty dollars
All for them dividends
Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
Triple, Triple Six Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia (loced out, loced out)
Triple, Triple Six Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
Loced out lo-loced-
Triple, Triple Six Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
Loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, Triple Six Mafia
Triple six up in your grill
We be kickin' that ass
Don’t be talkin that lame
Blame it on the funk
Pour the drank and I fuck all with that cocaine
You really don’t know nothin' 'bout six
Puttin' everything down with the shit
But I promise to God
If a nigga try to test me feel the worst of this click
Nigga get more buck to the to the gut
Three six with a 40 cal with a pump
We talk about you that nigga who that
Cause I pull that shoot at who Cares
Pat blast on that ass on the tainted glass
Raw got him on the run
But we on his ass
Nigga stop on the track
When we get to the b-h-z
Don’t let no nigga pass
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out, lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, triple six mafia, mafia
Loced out, loced out, loced out lo-loced out loced out
Triple, Triple Six Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia
Triple, Triple Six Mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia (loced out, loced out)

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Artist lyrics: Three 6 Mafia
Artist lyrics: Prophet Posse