Ready 4 Whatever Lyrics - Last 2 Walk - Three 6 Mafia

featuring Dayton Family 

Hahaha 

1998 

Three 6 Mafia 

Hooked up with the motherfuckin' Dayton Family 

Are ya'll ready for us 

Bring the pain 

Bitch ya'll ain't ready for us 

Miphia style 

Flip Time 

98 

Rollin' like dees 

Smoke the trees bitch 

Chorus x2 

We mafia is it too much (We mafia mafia mafia ya) 

Are you ready for us (We mafai mafia mafia ya) 

Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000 

(Scarecrow) 

Mixtures of sin and gin on sight 

Cut the wings off an angel 

On both sides 

I'm suin' 

Huntin' 

All them suckas 

State your last name first 

Meyers, Michael 

Lord is killin' 

Three 6 killin' 

What else will I say 

Even children 

Probably don't give a fuck if you are naughty or nice 

At night 

Sacrifice 

Good bye, lights out 

(Juicy J) 

Can you feel me 

Can you hear me 

Did you pick the scene 

A lot of fools done fucked around town 

Showed up in your dreams 

Standin' in a hideaway 

Inferred, them guns spray 

Gotcha shakin' 

Gotcha nervous 

Knowin' not how to get away 

Lookin' out the window pane 

Cause all your gonna feel is pain 

In your yard I see a tree 

I also see your body hang 

See the phone 

Pick it up 

The wire that is only cut 

I meant to pray 

Your still gonna die 

Too late bitch 

Your time is up 

Chorus x4 

(Dayton Family) 

What the fuck you want to do 

Be a victim of my homicide 

If you try to jack 

I'll leave you dead head in the g ride 

And creep up out my vehicle 

And continue my jack move 

Still gat under the dirt 

Now put it up in your hand 

Now ain't that smooth 

Motherfucker 

Snooze motherfucker 

Move motherfucker 

Loose motherfucker 

Put your face down to the floor 

And don't you take a look up 

I heard about what you cook up 

See bitch this is a stick up 

I'm takin' you off your tippy toes 

Take your cheese 

And fuck your hoes 

Givin' you crack sacks, macks back in your Cadillacs 

Drop glock in my draws 

Extra clip up under my balls 

My dick's like a 44 

Fuckin' up your pussy wall 

You ran your lip about your grip 

And I'm takin' in on the stash box 

Your pockets are swoll hoe 

And I'm lookin' for a jackpot 

I wear a mask on my face 

So I won't catch a case 

Keepin' it low key 

Don't nobody know me 

I'm just like a snake 

When I creep through your window 

So motherfuck the cops 

Cold hard on me kin though 

So motherfuck the 5-0 

It's all about survival 

I leave them like d-o-a 

Bitch that's dead on arrival 

Chorus x4 

Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000 

(DJ Paul) 

Give'em two 

To the head 

Three to the neck 

And the other fuckin' tip 

Too his motherfuckin' chest 

Gotta buck him down 

Gotta buck him down town 

Talkin' bout' these clowns 

Talkin' shit up in my fuckin' town 

Since he ain't dead yet 

Check his head 

Check his chest 

Playa should have guessed 

He was strapped with a fuckin' vest 

Hoe you should have known 

You was fuckin' with the Triple 6 

We bust 

I knew you wasn't ready for us 

(Gangsta Boo) 

Am I too much 

To avoid, can't you fuck with us 

In the Lexus truck with Juicy J 

Getting fucked up 

Tearin' the club up 

What be bumpin' on the radio 

Mafia is what I'm screamin' 

Till the day I die hoe 

More game for the lame 

Educate them bitches man 

Stay in focus 

Hocus pocus 

Tryin' my best to maintain 

High as the sky 

Is why it's my business bitch 

Open up your own fuckin' account 

And get up out my shit 

Chorus x4 

Cause it's the 1990 Triple 6 2000 

(Crunchy Blac) 

6 bitch 

So don't you fuck with this click 

Cause if you fuck with this click 

You'll get a little of this (gun shots) 

You must don't know who you fuckin' with bitch 

Cause we leavin' bodies in body bags 

Drop em' off in a ditch 

Know I mean kid 

know I mean kid, huh 

See we come from 

A natural bomb 

A natural gun 

A natural gimme some 

Don't make me make your body numb trick 

And have you hollerin' out mafia mafia mafia mafia 

(Koopsta Knicca) 

Stick em' dead 

Kill em' dead 

Rush them tricks on down to the flo' 

With north Memphis convicts 

Bithces call me Koopsta hoe 

Fuck me once never twice 

Wrapped up on that game of dice 

How can I lie 

When at nine hundred times 

You said you was a man of the house 

I don't really done it 

Koop you hung around that nigga man 

Try so hard to be a soldier bitch 

But come out to be dealt with trick 

I'm sick in the head 

Better call Fred 

Dirty red 

Yeah, yeah you gon' look 

Too late fuckin' fool 

Cause you drownin' in your poo poo