Playa Fly - Triple b**h Mafia lyrics

Triple, triple, triple, triple Triple b**h mafia, mafia, mafia Flizy, Flizy, Flizy, Flizy, Flizy Fli-Flizy comin gunnin three six runnin [Verse 1] Hangin low cheefin high, time to make you b**hes cry Triple b**hes talkin sh**, f** you hoes are gonna die Playaz comin harder won't bothered by yo pettiness Break the law so super slaw, boy you can't compare to this Playaz on the scene for you green, jealous funky hoes Bet that tech will get respect, plus you hoes full of blow Now the f** you figga you'd be bigga cause you makin cheese Half the sh** you makin b**h, glorifyin Gangsta B. Thinkin bout my n***a clout, Playa Fly's in the house Fly so high funkytown, man you love to hear me shout n***a youse a b**h when I get'cha they gone miss you punk Tie you to my n***a's bumper but busta you won't reach the trunk Crunk from the funk and blunt now my bodies numb Give me one I got me one now busta you gone give me some Just cause you crave, dig yo grave time to stop ya Proppin ya, droppin da triple b**h mafia [Chorus] Triple b**h mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia, mafia Flizy, Flizy comin gunnin Three six runnin [x4] [Verse 2] Man I wish you n***az would, do the sh** you clam you could Stillin, robbin, k**in, mobbin, never in my f**in hood Busta come on face the fact, rollin three blunts out a sack I hear you mention funkytown but never touch the funky pack In others words, Gangsta Blac makes ya f**in heart stop Drop to ya f**in guts, leave you reachin for ya glocks Ain't no time for reason and thrown pieces and the "L" sign Call this matter life and d**h, man you walk a thin line Crime on my mind yo its murder and I'm on them slopes Any b**hes clamin sixes ho you goin up in smoke As I hear them country raps, comin from a Crunchy Blac Man you soundin super wack and Fly know who behind that Pranksta Boo, ho you through, ho I gotta get you too Facial featchers favor hell ugly duckling of the crew And to you, you handicap b**h ya I'm watchin ya Flizy gone a**a**inate the triple b**h mafia [Chorus x4] [Verse 3] Roasten toasten triple duck, triple tradin set it up Runnin felony or jack, f** around and get it stuck Buck feelin f**ed now what's up, put you on the spot Triple sissies sayin sh**, Marcus pa** that plastic glock Put the pistol in yo face, if you run f** the chase Hollow tips would stop the pop and lemon pillers win the race Catch a case I never wrote, smoke to keep it on the low Busta takin off the map, wonder do yo roadies know Tricky Ricky Scarecrow, cooler than a fan though Riden wit the triple b**h is but ana 'ho Now you know, and to you, busta b**h call him Koop Talk so weakly to that b**h, now that ho is runnin you Juicy clam he smokin sqaures playa know you a lie As we cheefed them mega blunts, I thought you was bout to die Now I'm stayin super high ana bring that trigger itch If you keep on talkin sh**, I'll triple fix a triple b**h [Chorus x6] [Talking until end of song]