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Touched Wit It Video (MV)






Three Six Mafia - Touched Wit It Lyrics




[Serv-on]
Boy, I think this the second time you done passed up this sign you goin' the
wrong way main.
[Fiend]
Slow ya role, slow ya role, ya know what im saying?
Look, we about to go I 255, [yeah]straight up to Memphis.
[ya show]See what im saying, Paul said he gone meet us by Wal-Greens, we 'bout
to go head on and break this bread, ya heard me? What you gone do?
[Fiend]
Bitch, you can picture the pain, I rip you in vain
While the young soldiers whisper my name
I'm dealing the caine, sippin' on crown, smokin' that Jane
Open the brain, let that shot inject, you think that I'm playin'
Don't make me get at your kin fo those that can't
Either you die slow, ride slow, cause Fiend about to show
How not only God knows, these niggas our hoes, my stock broke
So we ain't trippin' puttin' knives to throats
Buckin the clip at the 5and 0 ,allow smoke
Dosha go straight to my lungs I see WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP
In ya streets Chopper intro now peep this
Got wit you
F-I-E-N-D and THREE-6Talk it like I bring I feel you need this, deep shit Sleep
wit them fishes, eat wit them bitches, it's all on you
Like that lil nigga B.G. cd volume 2 I throw hallows threw ,what you use to
swallow and chew, so how ya gone do?
[Lord Infamous]
Infamous I'm leavin brain dust I'll endanger you lamers like strangers
I'm in this bitch, pimp stick, clothes hangers
I'm out the frame, on a lame, like a Banger
I either put you in a cross, or I pull the Moss
I'm runnin threw some logs, tryinto blow ya leg off
I put some shit up in the line that'll blow ya mind
It's like some Colt 45, does it every time, nigga get my rhymes
Chorus:
Fiend If I pull my pistol I'm a bust wit it
Never see me holdin it and go fuss wit it
You gone be a big pussy gettin f*cked wit it
Foever tucked wit it, cause you done got touched wit it
[2x']s[Serv-on]
Act like you know me when I say Im head thug on your block
Hold ya breath when I spray paint my name on yo spot
Tell your self you ain't scared when I run in
your chick I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apologize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd World I represent it Blood City fo real
Forget yo know me when I pistol whip you and yo click
No limit riders, Tre 6, yall aint runnin like this
[DJ Paul]
Now whats the f*ck the use of holdin a gun and playin wit you hoes
I'm bout to shut down yo heart thats how the story gizoes These boys think
cause we some CEO's, we must be some hoes
Its consequences and reprecusions f*ckin wit pros
These bitches hot cause its hypnotized and no limit
We off the wham but only real niggas all up in it
I tell you what Serv kill the head of yo click
And I bet all them hoes quit talkin shit
[Chorus 2x's]
[Juicy J]
I never ran up to a trunk
Blastin on a f*ckin punk
Toxicated, high, or drunk
Try and grab the closest pump
Never flodged on
how I lived
Fight a nigga over a bitch
Playa Im just callin pimp
Always keep a cigarette lit
Never walked up in the club
Dissin niggas wit a mug
Always keep my own sacks
Never wanted to hit your bud
Independent on you hoes
Makin more than selling dope
If you wanna hate the click
Nigga I make your body froze
[Serv-on]
Close yo eyes when ya see tha gat shots in my plaster
Mouth full its a south thang thuggin like that
You say you know Im in North Memphis pushin that drill
Tearin clubs up in South Memphis and Smokey that slip
Say your prayers when I lay that iron clean on yo chest
Dont play no games boy, Im kinda wild wit them techs
Pretend you deaf when I scream what city you claim
F*ck around wit me I separate your body from your name
[La Chat]
Lay down bitch ,La Chat and I ain't playing no games buckin you hoes, my mado
keep my distance from lames
My 45 be on my side and I be ready to ride
We catch you slippin you be missin have you barried alive
My niggas down down we got that anna that you bitches dont wanna Step to
me wrong Paul,Juicy,Pat,La Chat be strapped wit them pumps
Now how you figure when you f*ck up that we gone let you live
We kill your ass then set a ransom fo your guts that we spill!!!!!
[Chorus]

~lyrics by brolly~
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




[Serv-on]
Boy, I think this the second time you done passed up this sign you goin' the
wrong way main.
[Fiend]
Slow ya role, slow ya role, ya know what im saying?
Look, we about to go I 255, [yeah]straight up to Memphis.
[ya show]See what im saying, Paul said he gone meet us by Wal-Greens, we 'bout
to go head on and break this bread, ya heard me? What you gone do?
[Fiend]
Bitch, you can picture the pain, I rip you in vain
While the young soldiers whisper my name
I'm dealing the caine, sippin' on crown, smokin' that Jane
Open the brain, let that shot inject, you think that I'm playin'
Don't make me get at your kin fo those that can't
Either you die slow, ride slow, cause Fiend about to show
How not only God knows, these niggas our hoes, my stock broke
So we ain't trippin' puttin' knives to throats
Buckin the clip at the 5and 0 ,allow smoke
Dosha go straight to my lungs I see WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP
In ya streets Chopper intro now peep this
Got wit you
F-I-E-N-D and THREE-6Talk it like I bring I feel you need this, deep shit Sleep
wit them fishes, eat wit them bitches, it's all on you
Like that lil nigga B.G. cd volume 2 I throw hallows threw ,what you use to
swallow and chew, so how ya gone do?
[Lord Infamous]
Infamous I'm leavin brain dust I'll endanger you lamers like strangers
I'm in this bitch, pimp stick, clothes hangers
I'm out the frame, on a lame, like a Banger
I either put you in a cross, or I pull the Moss
I'm runnin threw some logs, tryinto blow ya leg off
I put some shit up in the line that'll blow ya mind
It's like some Colt 45, does it every time, nigga get my rhymes
Chorus:
Fiend If I pull my pistol I'm a bust wit it
Never see me holdin it and go fuss wit it
You gone be a big pussy gettin f*cked wit it
Foever tucked wit it, cause you done got touched wit it
[2x']s[Serv-on]
Act like you know me when I say Im head thug on your block
Hold ya breath when I spray paint my name on yo spot
Tell your self you ain't scared when I run in
your chick I ain't bout no games woady its your life or yo bitch
Apologize when I pass by bootin my grill
3rd World I represent it Blood City fo real
Forget yo know me when I pistol whip you and yo click
No limit riders, Tre 6, yall aint runnin like this
[DJ Paul]
Now whats the f*ck the use of holdin a gun and playin wit you hoes
I'm bout to shut down yo heart thats how the story gizoes These boys think
cause we some CEO's, we must be some hoes
Its consequences and reprecusions f*ckin wit pros
These bitches hot cause its hypnotized and no limit
We off the wham but only real niggas all up in it
I tell you what Serv kill the head of yo click
And I bet all them hoes quit talkin shit
[Chorus 2x's]
[Juicy J]
I never ran up to a trunk
Blastin on a f*ckin punk
Toxicated, high, or drunk
Try and grab the closest pump
Never flodged on
how I lived
Fight a nigga over a bitch
Playa Im just callin pimp
Always keep a cigarette lit
Never walked up in the club
Dissin niggas wit a mug
Always keep my own sacks
Never wanted to hit your bud
Independent on you hoes
Makin more than selling dope
If you wanna hate the click
Nigga I make your body froze
[Serv-on]
Close yo eyes when ya see tha gat shots in my plaster
Mouth full its a south thang thuggin like that
You say you know Im in North Memphis pushin that drill
Tearin clubs up in South Memphis and Smokey that slip
Say your prayers when I lay that iron clean on yo chest
Dont play no games boy, Im kinda wild wit them techs
Pretend you deaf when I scream what city you claim
F*ck around wit me I separate your body from your name
[La Chat]
Lay down bitch ,La Chat and I ain't playing no games buckin you hoes, my mado
keep my distance from lames
My 45 be on my side and I be ready to ride
We catch you slippin you be missin have you barried alive
My niggas down down we got that anna that you bitches dont wanna Step to
me wrong Paul,Juicy,Pat,La Chat be strapped wit them pumps
Now how you figure when you f*ck up that we gone let you live
We kill your ass then set a ransom fo your guts that we spill!!!!!
[Chorus]

~lyrics by brolly~
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: E. SMITH, JORDAN HOUSTON, PAUL BEAUREGARD, R. JONE
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management