About This Track
"Fuckin' Wit Dis Click" is a track by Three 6 Mafia, from the album Mystic Stylez, released 30th May 1995. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
[Intro: Warlock] How can you have faith in a God That cannot even control creation How can he lead you to salvation There is no hope in chaos, only in order Welcome to the other side of reality Then this is your eternity Eternity [Verse 1: Juicy J] The end of the world, I can see it comin' So I pack my nine millimeters and I start huntin' For these niggas that talk shit, mane, these hoes'll never quit Until you leave 'em hangin' from a tree or thrown in a ditch Which one of you niggas think you really got them guts To walk up to his house, knock on his door Let 'em feel the buck shots of a twelve gauge, backed up by an A-K 'Fore you go to bed at night, you bitches better kneel and pray 'Cause when it's business, we takin' care of business I'm clappin' on any punk witness, or any fool wanna get in it Mane, this shit is real, not them stories you put in your raps Not even that bullshit you talk behind a nigga back Let me make it simple and plain; run up and you'll get your brains Blown to the side of the curb with that plastic thang-thang Meanin' Glock nineteen with a twenty clip You don't wanna fuck with this, you don't wanna fuck with this [Refrain: Point Blank] So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! [Verse 2: Koopsta Knicca] Man, for a petty crime, I swear I'll die before I do some time Bitch, the Koopsta massive when I'm buckin' with the mothafuckin' plastic nine Corpses that we tortured in the shed, their voices won't let me rest Could this be the end yet or a message sent from Satan? Nigga omens They open the gates of horror for them overlords We tortured the cases who arrested the faces of Triple 6 Devil Shit sorcerers, kill that bitch, chop that bitch Or you might just call it a crucifix Sick of that burnin' inside of my cradle I'm wishin' that he could just come Yet, this nina gots no trigger, so I'm clickin' real quick like a serial killa I'm straight from the South for real-uh, I'll buck you dead, my nigga And it's a shame when I dropped 'em off the Blacklane In return I got no thangs, y'all went in dark room, fool, Koop be jackin' for their thang Every time I see you slipping, I go and go load my Mac-10 (Mac-10) Victims of my Devil's playground, come burn with me until the end [Refrain: Point Blank] So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! [Verse 3: Lord Infamous] Totin' the dead body over my shoulder Into the graveyard with my shovel and pitchfork Lookin' for a nice spot to dig up, then I toss in the body And get 'em more muddy as bank o' the shore Three separate bodies hacked up with a axe And I think a big sack had been chewed up by rats I'm just writing these poems they bring to renown 'Cause I drove a steak knife through their skull Split wrists with needles in my fists And amidst', thy cliques of tricks No, I'm not a Christian But I'm mentally ill And I don't understand all the reasons why I think it's killin' season And neither does my schizophrenic friends So therefore, nigga, due to my mental difficulty Scarecrow is only entertained by helping enemies bleed Let all the bodies soak in all the blood It's the smoke that they chase for no pity I bloody cut chop up they chest It's the 20 gauge fire, they dyin' like I was Frank Nitti I'm havin' no thoughts of the lives I've done lost When I'm blazin' that stupid gauge fire 'Cause I'm havin' a Halloween slaughter in town Mothafucka just like Michael Myers There were mutilations, paralyzations, got no patience When I'm chasin' down a patient, tryin' to thwart assassination [Refrain: Point Blank] So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! So for all you cliques, and you clans, and you crews Fuckin'-fuckin' with this clique, and we gon' bring it to yo' ass! [Verse 4: DJ Paul] I'm on a cross, Lucifer, please cut me free (Cut me free) I'll draw your portrait if you pull these nails out of my feet (Nails out of my feet) My cross turns upside down and finally I'm loose I flip the land and released the others who sin; the Scarecrow and the Juice I look to the sky and all I could say was "Finally, it's on again" No Lord could stop us now, 'cause the demons reborn again My praise, the first power found me so I could never cower Without a mind for murder But the Bible couldn't tell ya half about this antichrist Look into my eyes, tell me what you see The demonic man of massacrism, saints, can you feel me? I traveled years and years, sinkin' this one day of depression Stormy weather and church bells ringin' to the election Of a new follower, follow me into the trees Watch me rob Adam and watch me rape Eve In this eve of destruction, bustas will probably wonder With DJ Paul, the Triple Six clique And Hell take them under Ahahahaha Bitch Now never Hahahaha
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