| Please stay sleep, please stay sleep
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| please stay sleep, you niggas stay sleep
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| Sippin on six murder minutes, the sauce I give blood
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| from the cup to the coffin lid grill
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| Silence for singin some many six songs
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| of a place they call heaven now skids or broke hell
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| Christian or rune, my Lithonia despite ghetto
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| suspension suspect a sent or no souls
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| Sinister sins I decided distract on a ancient crucial
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| past like Krueger’s is gross
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| Satanic in scent were wrote on the scent
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| it’s so sacred created by Lucifer slaves
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| Silent, secluded in secret somewhere in the swamp
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| in the land of protest a man-day
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| Infinite six, eternal the six
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| forever the six I sits outta da flames
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| Sick minded soldiers wit suffering
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| singing and searching to stable severe for some pain
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| Scarecrow was me, I was sent from the ceiling
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| crossed over the thorn on my venomous tips
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| Such in the same antisocial by there is no sun
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| daily as the right wipe on my lips
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| Indulge yourself with the posters
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| and noisy money and drugs interior golds
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| I tell you how is your profit
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| demand if it gets the whole world da new dinners and clothes
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| (Gangsta Boo)
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| I click so quick, my spells are slick
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| I’m comin’again with much more
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| You niggas be jealous cuz my profit sellin'
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| Its fucking yo bitch but Nig-ga- roes
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| Just listen, I shouldn’have to mention
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| Yo ass is in the click, you fell in the click
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| cuz you run yo mouth around the wrong misses bitch
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| Yo peep this, my niggas be packin’artillery making yo ass whine
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| I’m packin’this bomb ass car that’s robbin yo ass blind all the time
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| You think I love you, never nigga I’m out to get my cheese
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| Like Roger Rabbit, who framed the nigga that guy left on his knees?
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| Smokin’out, cuz I need to get high before I go on my mission
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| My profit soldiers call me all about this thing called pimpin'
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| So listen nigga before you think you got a convict (bitch)
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| You got a steaming matter lil’boy that want the lifestyle of rich
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| Hook:
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| Sleep baby sleep
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| Princes is all I dream
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| Beware of this cloud, cuz it is just too deep
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| Sleep baby sleep
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| (DJ Paul)
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| We pimpin up on these hoes wit the Mack-10
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| The Mack-12 hit 'em wit the Mack-11
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| Catch ya slippin at the 7−11
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| Put the swords in the back of his cap, send him straight to heaven 7
|
| ?Lily villains? |
| couldn’t stop these hits
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| certainly when ya fuck around wit da Three Six Mafia on top a ya Game, really gotta wake 'em up wit the piggy bank
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| Really tho, sissy hoe, we up in ya house
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| Boo under da bed, Crunchy behind da couch
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| Get 'em up wit galled off
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| Wit da mother fucking shit we talkin’about
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| Thug’d out, drugged out, already
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| Get 'em in they mother fucking sleep like Freddy
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| Split it, doin’it, them mutha fuckin niggas doin’it
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| Pourin’it, the mutha fuckin Posse bitch
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| While you thinking we slackin’up, we jackin’up yo fuckin shit
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| Enemies from day one, but today sons, don’t last, so ball it Where ya run at? |
| Da Three Six gun that, all bitches about the cheap
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| Hangin low and standin’hi, stayin’hi, on the mutha fuckin street
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| (Crunchy Black)
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| Should I let a nigga live?
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| Should I let a nigga die?
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| I should watch a nigga cry
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| While I sing dem lullaby
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| As da tears hit the floor
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| Dealin’shit, how not a roar?
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| Crunchy Black is not a whore
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| And Raven Red and heavens door
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| As I soar through yo life
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| You be beggin’for some Christ
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| Aint no mutha fuckin’Christ
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| All I wanna see is die
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| (Juicy J)
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| Yo sleep at night, we coming through yo mutha fuckin’window pane
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| Make sure at night, you shut it tight so the killer wont split ya brain
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| Don’t make a move in ya room you better believe it’s a big surprise
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| Nuttin but them two like a glock boy a sick infrared between ya eyes
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| Tie that bitch up wit the gray tape,
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| rest of the body wrap it up wit a belt
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| Chop, chop, chop, cut the dead body up till ya know theres nothing left
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| Please stay sleep!
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| Hook |