Stomp - Three 6 Mafia: Lirik Lagu, Video Musik & Konser

Stomp

2.124

Hip-Hop/Rap

Stomp dirilis pada 3 Desember 1996 oleh Prophet Entertainment sebagai bagian dari album The End

Detail Lagu

Tanggal Rilis3 Desember 1996

LabelProphet Entertainment

LanguageEnglish

Melodiksi

Level Akustik

Valence

Kemampuan untuk menari

Energi

BPM80

GAMBARAN

LIRIK

Dari

PERFORMING ARTISTS

DJ Paul

Vocals

Juicy J

Vocals

Koopsta Knicca

Vocals

Lord Infamous

Vocals

Slicse Tee

Programming

COMPOSITION & LYRICS

Christopher Bridges

Christopher Bridges

Lyrics

Jordan Houston

Composer

Paul Beauregard

Paul Beauregard

Composer

David Darnell Brown

David Darnell Brown

Lyrics

J. Taylor

Lyrics

PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING

DJ Paul

Producer

Juicy J

Producer

Larry Nix

Mastering Engineer

Lirik

Voices in them trees

These are the things that help me vision these evil most things

Me and DJ Paul we got the hook up, finna go stick

Me on the passenger side, loc took a slight peek through the window

Something's creepin' up slow, it was this Lotus driven by this ho

So I'm sippin' on me Rémy, hopin' it won't cross my roadies attention

Not only was you in it, yet another **** drivin'

Paul stopped the car, said: "won't you buck 'em rough, Koopsta?"

Shirt, I know ya hurt, take them birches back, take 'em back with them slugs

Sad to see you gone, son, teflons in your creds

Mister caugth 'em in dreads, yeah, Koopsta got 'em scared

Want prophitin' shit see that's what you get for talkin' shit

Trick, I'll drop you in a splunder, cut you up like Jeffrey Dahmer, biatch

Come, come, who the fuck, they want some

**** want to jump, jump, get you make a pump, pump

Scarecrow, me shall bump, bump off a **** fakin'

Go into a rage and bitches tremble and shakin'

Rump rump shakin', Mafioso rude boy

Me will act a fool, boy, me don't give a damn if you're fuckin' red or blue boy

Cut 'em by the waistline, flowin' on this bassline

Lord Infamous don't waste time when me gotta get mine

You know what I want, why you usin' the guessin'?

Storm on this bitch like some new years confetti

Astronomical Triple 6 ride space on top of asteroids

Comin' to rip up the shore, we kill all the folks, don't act a fool, boy

Stomp, motherfucker, stomp, motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)

How long ago? Deep in the North where **** stay drunk and smoke Newports

From Marble St.with all of my peeps, I used to scratch and program beats

I made a mix with real deep bass at Northside High, be slangin' tapes

DJ'ing this shit tryna make it and shit, totin' they speakers and stack they crates

Studio G was the place to be

Where all jocks were tryin' to get the chance get on the tables and spin

A fool kept tryin' I never could quit, the club was packed from wall to wall

The gangsta walk is what we called

When **** got buck in a circle and danced and dared a fool, to slip and fall

We tore up the club and showed no love, just throwin' our fists and gettin' real buck

They might been fight later on the night 'cause Memphis players don't give a fuck

Security jumped, we smack the punks for throwin' us out for smokin' a blunt

The number one song, had just came on

And now it's time to fuckin' stomp

Three 6 in the motherfuckin' house, fizzinna peel yo

Motherfuckin' skin back, it's the fuckin' steelo

On your fuckin' ass, we can't brag 'cause we comin' up

Robbers on my ass, should I blast? 'Cause they runnin' up

Maybe it's my friend, but then them friends will turn too yo

With the SIG Sauer 9, boy, I come to kick doors

I stick those bitches in my trunk and now we back to my hood

The one on the left ain't die yet, but he wishin' he would

Wasn't in the mood for this buck shit

But these **** just had to creep and boy, they stupid as it

I leave these hoes for a permanent sleep

And now we out to the club, we gotta get em' up

Triple 6 and Prophet Posse, y'all know we makin' 'em stomp

Stomp, motherfucker, stomp, motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)

Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp

(Don't stop shootin' their ass—)

(Shoot his ass do-down to the concrete)

X

Written by: C. Harris Jr, Christopher Bridges, D. Brown, Jordan Houston, P. Beauregard

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