Song parody of

Don't Turn Around

by Three 6 Mafia

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

I only fuck wit those, who only fuck wit me A sucka' play for games, a man play for keeps I keeps me a nine millimeter just in case A coward's in my face These bullets he gon taste A waste of your life, steppin' wrong, I'm on trees Best ta leave me alone, best ta go make some cheese Enemies come in all shapes, forms, sizes, colors Could be your best friend, cousin, or brothers I'll rob'em all, just to see who got the fatty stack Walked in the bank, put the loot in the codauh sack Slapped on the guard four times fo' he passed out Eyes on that blow and my pockets was assed out Had on a trench coat, wig and some goggles If'n you resist, you may not see tomorrow I'm in there, I den dared the police couldn't get me But I made a slip up: had a trick wit me. Chorus X2: Don't turn around (Give me the fuckin' cheese trick) Don't make a sound (Show me where them keys at) Lay it on the ground (knowing that your pockets fat) Fore' I buck you down (and I'm quicks' to do that) Nigga starting braggin' in his hood bout the robbery Wasn't long then, fore' somebody dropped the dime on me I'm'a be the one they can't get to, they picked the boy up Run his mouth just like a fool, he gon' get me fucked up But, I'm'a have to get to him before the police do-a Caught up with him night and day, not him and his crew-a Sprang down Chelsie Ave. kinda in the evening For this muhfuckas death, dawg I was fiend'n He was looking at me strange, like I'm'a catcha I done hopped out with the thang, lemme holla at'cha, Foo, where you been dog? (My momma got sick, main!) Fuck that got to do wit'chu? (Hold up I ain't your bitch, main!) I heard you been talking your muh-fuckin' lips loose (Nah, it ain't like that dawg, I ain't no damn fool) Looking in his eyes, I could see that he was so scared I squeezed on the trigga with the gun to his fo'-head. (Chorus x2) Blew the top out his skull, now they want me dead All the niggas in his hood, police and the feds Stepped out of Westwood, way out of the side On the other side of town, somewhere I can hide I done threw my life away, hunted by them by pigs Robbing every other day, drops in off my nig They done found my whereabouts, bouts' to do me in Kickin' in the front door, and I was in the den SK was under the couch, snatch it off the wham Open fire on them hoes, I didn't give a damn Blood stream was full of dope, pump off coca leaf Feds had me under a scope, and an infrared beam Rifle bullet threw my throat, chokin', hit tha flo' Gunpowder in my mouth, knockin' heavens door Street life done took me out, and that shit ain't fake I done fuck myself off, cause a bad mistake

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Don't Turn Around

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