Club Gettin' Crowded

Three 6 Mafia, ChingyBuy this song

Three 6 Mafia

Three 6 Mafia are a rap group originally from Memphis, Tennessee, signed to Sony Music Entertainment under the Columbia Records imprint. Formed in 1991 as Backyard Posse then later Triple 6 Mafia, by DJ Paul, Lord Infamous, Juicy J and Koopsta Knicca, the group later included two more members inclu… more »

Uh huh (We came to bust heads) 
Uh huh (We came to bust heads)
Uh huh (We came to bust heads)

This is the official (the official)
Get yo ass knocked out music (get yo ass knocked the fuck out!)
For bein' a non-hood affiliate nigga


Get it boys, hypnotize minds (what?)
 Hypnotize minds, you know how its goin' down
We comin' dirty we comin' dirty 

The club gettin' crowded, throw up yo set and shout it
You talk but you ain't 'bout it
 Nigga huh, nigga huh
We off that juice and Hen', I snuck that burna in
We're set trippin'
 Nigga what, nigga what

I crept in the spot with a chrome strap
 Haters that trip get blown back
We off that hash and cognac 
Head bussin' we on that
 Wanna freak out better pull that ho
Take her to the bar and full that ho
Get her in the bathroom, get some head
I'm a playa ain't know?
 Cowards know me so they starin'
Trippin' off the jewels I'm wearin'
My nigga I pack stern  Police in herr, we ain't carrin'
 Pussy don't pump in blood 
Real niggas always show me love
Fake niggas keep yo caps and hugs
Real niggas got them gats and slugs 
If you want, you can get it
Put a couple, in yo fitted 
We ain't never scared trick 
Tell 'em GIB did it
 Dragged that punk up out this place for putting his fingers in my face
I almost caught a fuckin' case
(You cool dirty?) Yeah I'm straight 

[Chorus: x2]

Yeah, what!
Now I ain't even worried bout you, haters  Three 6 Mafia fakers
You talk like commentators 
You fiction like Terminator 
My nation eliminata
Under, estimater  Stomp 'em to the pavement with some Air Force One gators (Bitch!)
I pay 'em no mind, I show 'em my nine
I slap 'em, a couple a times and any a mine
I promise, he be aight he jus' needed some wakin' up
And I guess he thought, ACP and GIB was bluffin' (Yeah!)

You got some pimps off in dis buildin'
Smokin' with yo children 
In the back of the club, with my thugs syrup sippin'
What's up with yo bitch, suckin' dick and she givin'
 Credit cards to G's with keys for dis pimpin'
They see the D-Boys shinin' grindin' then they get this feelin'
Don't hate on me or play with me
 These Mafia boys be killin'
They call my Juicy J, I got that SK that be drillin'
You fuck with me you might get hit
I'm known for dome peelin'

[Chorus: x2]

(Ride out niggas!)
 Dammit Memphis on the scene 
They sippin' syrup and ridin' clean 
On the block we by some beams  These stacks is bulgin' out my jeans 
You know these hoes be on my nuts
Take in the rims on the truck 
Schemin' tryin' to take my bucks 
Yeah bitch I know whats up
Ching-a-ling and Three 6
You got bricks? We flip
Don't come sideways tryin' to playa hustle, we hip
Two clips one glock, leave ya flat from one shot
Cats playin' the role of Makeveli, its only one Pac
Come equipped or don't come
Show up homie, don't run
Best believe we won't run
 After the party get ya guns
Ain't no parking lot pimpin'
Only parking lot poppin'
Man what will stand down ho?
You herrd them K's choppin'

[Chorus: x2]


Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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"Club Gettin' Crowded Lyrics." STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 28 Jun 2017. <>.

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Club Gettin' Crowded