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Tear Da Club Up Thugs lyrics Big Business lyrics (Lord Infamous)You got thugs on ya spot, Fresh out the box, The crowd so live, They comin' in flocks (All) Cuz, it's big business, it big business bitch It's big business, it big business bitch (X2) (Lord Infamous) As I cut, guts poor Blood washes from the shore To da sand, as a thousand veins, Center through my hand, Can I whip, stand a man From the underland of pain As his brains, hit the grains And I bury the remains, from my face Pissin through a bitches ???, Infamous bring out the sack of the serial killas Triple six murderers Now leave it enough, whenever you come They be ready to cook, now rev up the hood And these niggas could to be these Infamous could And the Mafia villains would fuck up a rookie Drop him to his knees wit a N-I-N-E slugs, get done And bloody up your mug Because we really love to make a stand It's the high capitol make me touch a man I got the scope, and not the kind that kills bad breath I got the kind that like to fuck up ya good health Everybody in this bitch lets tear some shit up Tear da club up thugs On ya spot, put'm up (Repeat chorus 2x) (D. J. Paul)I kill, kill, kill I murder, murder, murder Hater's in my face, Watch a nigga hurta 40, 40, cal, I pull out my back pocket I grab you by your neck, I pull it out a socket Range, Range, Range, Rover, Rover, Rover, Blow this fuckin' task Police pull me over But I blast on these hoes Cause I'm too fuckin dangerous Prophet the Posse, I doubt you hoes could hang wit us Killin all you nigga's is a easy task You fools that last, I bullet proof a mazz on dat ass, I dash To yo muthafuckin crib, Soon as I find out where you live Flashlights see yo face Mario a murder case Roamin through the muthafuckin Black Haven area Prophet is my Posse, I doubt you see something scarer Plenty talk shit, but they ain't nothing but characters $100,000 cars now how you gon laugh at us (Repeat chorus 2x) (Juicy J) First I wanna grab a nigga by his neck, Drag him to my fuckin set, Take a nigga blow, and his cheese, and dem cigarettes Put the gun up to his nose Tie him up from head to toe Strap his body in a bag Throw him in a fire Call my nigga's Dee and Blue Project Pat, ya'll know what to do Creep through dem streets, Wit dem thangs, blast on any fools Tear da club up thugs, in this muthafucker runnin' shit If you want to playa hate the click, Then your done with Know'n we ain't going bitch Makin' fakers dig a ditch Scare familys in the night Make'm pull the panic switch Comin like Titanic trick Holycaust wit a grip Crazyndalazdaz I'm bout to have a fuckin fit Hold me back don't let me go I'm high as hell and on the road Nigga I break off in ya house, And boot yo baby wit a pole Lunatic superstitious, on the corner like I'm pimpin If I see ya on the block, I'm fuckin, Fuckin wit the quickness (Lord Infamous) You got the thugs on ya spot Other Tear Da Club Up Thugs lyrics: Smoked Out lyrics I'm Losin' It lyrics Throw Your Sets Up lyrics Undercover Freaks lyrics Wet Party lyrics Elbow a Nigga lyrics What You Lookin' For lyrics Paper Chase lyrics When God Calls Time Out lyrics Slob on My Nob lyrics Triple Six Clubhouse lyrics Hypnotize Minds\Profit Posse lyrics Who the Crunkest lyrics Get Buck, Get Wild lyrics Hypnotize Cash Money lyrics Push 'Em Off lyrics All Dirty Hoes lyrics |