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Artist: Three 6 Mafia
Album:  Vol. 3 - Kings of Memphis
Song:   Fuck What U Heard
Typed by:

[DJ Paul talking]

Yeah nigga this shit still goes on
Punk motherfuckas,
I want you to listen to every
motherfucking word in this song bitch
Cause this is directly to you hoe
You motherfuckin' in the face ass
Cross this nigga, fuck y'all
This for you nigga, bitch


Fuck what u heard,
Fuck what u heard about me nigga

Step up to these killas
Feel the fuckin' trigger

Verse 1: Crunchy Blac

Fuck what you heard if ya ain't heard this
That I roll wid a group ah niggas quick to throw fits
Quick to go get,
Quick to go rob him a bitch,
Quick to go lay down some platinum hits
I'm tired of you bitches go runnin' y'all mouth
Talkin' about, we ain't really keepin' it South
I put the gun in yo mouth,
And blow ya motherfuckin' brains out
Fuck what you heard and it just no doubt, nigga

Verse 2: Lord Infamous

Niggas like to gossip like some bitches
They down be round they bitches
Cause they bitches groupie bitches
And since I cut Three 6 these bitches wanna claim my dick,
We throwin' hits, they throwin fits
These bitches need to quit,
They wanna be down wid it
But these niggas won't admit it,
They droppin' to they knees
They beggin' please to be a 6,
You niggas on my dirt,
I smack you like a bird,
Because you fulla sherm,
And by the way, fuck what u heard boy

Hook (2x)

Verse 3: DJ Paul

My nigga fuck it what u heard
You need to find out the truth,
Or get ya guns and come and test this hundred ninety proof,
Pounds, and silent spotted
Nuthin' but tickets in my wallet
All these hatas got me scopin' man
They still can't stop it for sure,
There's crosses all up in this shit
Crosses all up in my click
Got most of them crosses out
But still I got a few to get
Those who used to be wid me like,
Hope that boy ahead and he fall
Sick ah hearin' from they dogs,
Man you need some beats from Paul
Never happy keep on rappin'
Tryna live as good as me
Just bought my crib for a half a mil
My life complete
I guess that's why they dis-like
And claim my shit, wouldn't twirk
Tryna make them locals come above me
But it didn't work,
I got you bitches hot (hot)
You hopin' that I stop (stop)
I'm ten years in the game
Wid out a fuckin' clock (clock)
It's like I hear me
And it's like I don't hear me
I guess I get bad off in these streets
While they bail off

Verse 4: Juicy J

I was born up in the ghetto streets
Always learn to pack the heat
Call me on my cellular phone
If you want that work from me
Cowards like to talk and plan
Point some fingers say some names
Nigga if you claim you buck
Handle ya fuckin' business man
I been rollin' from the start
Always snatch a coward car
Evergreen is where I'm from
Sippin on the syrup we slum
In the night we smoke and light
At the club we start a fight
When we pimpin' on yo bitch
We show them golds and flash the ice

Hook ('til fade)