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letra de beatem to da floor - explicit album version - three 6 mafia

[dj paul]
so this is what i’m a do man, you know what i’m sayin’
i’m a get each of you n-ggas, you know what i’m sayin’
from the bay by the be -ball piece, when you see this n-gga
you know what i’m sayin’, i want y’all to whoop his b-tch -ss
man you know what i’m sayin, beat his motha f-ckin -ss
to the ground like a motherf-cker man f-ck this b-tch -ss

[juicy j]
see this how -ss kickin’ get down, your boys get
(beat down!)
your b-tches get
(beat down!)
your brothers get
(beat down!)
your mothers get
(beat down!)
your cousins get
(beat down!)
and any n-gga that try to clown we leavin’ em on the ground
’cause we stomp a hole, until his -ss throw up, and after that
them signs is gettin’ thrown up, i’m answer to the right
i’m answer to the left, we sn-tchin’ your chain and check
your pockets ’till nothin’ left

[crunchy black]
i’m a crunk this n-gga though, treat ’em like a hoe
ask these lil’ b-tches what the f-ck they hittin’ for
crunchy ain’t a hoe, and crunchy can’t go, and
crunchy ain’t a n-gga that you want to f-ck with low
if you didn’t know, then n-gga you can know, then meet me
down foo in the middle of the floor, i’ma break it down slow
and fill you up with dro, and smoke a little that ’till i
can’t smoke no more

i’m gon’ whoop this n-gga
i’m gon’ whoop this n-gga
i’m gon’ take it outside cl!ck cl!ck (boom!) with the trigger
i’m gon’ rob this boy, i’m gon’ mob this boy
i’m gon’ call the f-ckin k!llers do a job on this boy

[chorus]
we gon’ beat em to the floor, we gon’ beat em to the floor
we gon’ beat em to the floor, we gon’ beat em to the floor
we gon’ beat em to the floor, we gon’ beat em to the floor
we gon’ beat em to the floor, we gon’ beat em to the floor

[lord infamous]
you don’t know what just happened
you suffering from a fracture
you rebel let me catch you, i’ll beat you belly b-st-rd
you have a bad concussion, from tripple six bone rushin’
you all beat up and busted, you shouldn’t have pressed that b-tton
you all bl–dy and bumy, you yellin’ for you mommy
and people think its funny, quit tryin’ to out run me
your eyes are blue and black and, your clothes are ripped and tackin’
you thought that you could hack it, you shouldn’t have wore that jacket
’cause i wreck it, smith and west and my weapon, we steppin’
to let the still meet your chest and, don’t play with these k!llers
they come from those parts, the north where n-ggas be pullin’
the whole cart, so mista big playa mista big time playa
you got the sh-t on lock why you on my d-ck
like a b-tch walkin’ around like you stone high
hollow tip bullets don’t die, n-gga they multiply

[chorus]

- three 6 mafia

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