Sippin' On Some Syrup
Three 6 Mafia f/ UGK

Chorus:
Sippin' on some sizurp
Sip, sippin' on some, sip
(8 times)

Verse 1:
(Pimp C)
For a thrill, working the wheel
A pimp, not a simp
Keep the dope fiends higher than the Goodyear Blimp
We eat so many shrimp, I got iodine poisoning
Punk niggas make me sick with all that pidgeonin' and bargainin'
You say that you a boss, I ain't believing that shit
You got a funny Geneva watch, wit the Ferrari kit
Take that monkey shit off
You embarrassing us
I got the web from Mezzazine, thick orange and yellow cuffs
Hyper code on, on the hands-free phone
The '84 roam, on them blades
20-inch chrome
If you got 16, you can get a fizurp
I'm chokin' on that doja sweet
An' sippin' on that sizurp
(DJ Paul)
Some niggas scared to flaunt it
Some niggas they want it, want it
Some niggas they joint it, joint it
But I be fucked up up on it
Well, we're the Mafia 6, and we ain't 'bout that bullshit
If we gon' get high, we gon' get high
An' we gon' haves a bitch
Two niggas all at the mouth
Two niggas all at the ass
And plus there's some type of niggas that call all night
An' she cool with that
She popped her a pill of X
An' drank on some orange juice
And just when you thought she was freaky she done got super loose
Niggas come in by threes and tows
All in circles like duck-duck-goose
All that want it, can flaunt it
She on that X and the tootie fruit
40 dollars for just one once
Plus the next is now whisperin' now
Niggas sipping and dipping and tripping
Man, I'm 'bout all out

Chorus (4 times)

Verse 2:
(Juicy J)
People always asking me
Me the Three 6 high on that
Rolling on them X pills
Scurryin', puffin' powder packs
Wh-wh-where the weed at
Ain't like that we need that
NyQuil'll slow me down
Want something that keep my easy
Nothing like that yella yella
That'll have ya itchin' man
Talkin' like, "What's up, fool?"
Vocal chords sounding lame
In my days all we did was chief out on a quarter-pound
Gone on coke, eyes are buck
Three 6 should have knocked you down
Now you're out
Make ya fall asleep when you're up on them wheels
Ain't no doubt, hit me when I poop for this wheat field
Once again, on my wicked high
Gotta have that dank
Yeah my nigga, Gino
I feel like I'm gonna fucking faint
(Bun B)
Nigga, tell me what you know about Frank Nito and Young Guido
Paul an' Vito
We play a tune that's sweeter than Bedito
Wit my Three 6 niggas hoeing up in my southern creedo
Quick fast, we'll put it on your ass like John Vito
'Cause you frontin' rap sanger
Be creamy like a Zanger
You ain't from the major boy, but you gets the middle finger
Humdanger, rum dranker
Occasionally, take yo bitch to the Tilly and be a dick and cum slanger
When Big Bun come, danger
Nigga ring your alarm
Sexy thang on my arm, cup of drank in my palm
And that crazy shit
I'm tripping on some skinny bitches, some that's hoes
Some Florida, the foes
And for the most, I'm steady sippin on some

Chorus (til fade)