Grab Tha Gauge

Lyrics

[Chorus: Buckshot] Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page [Verse 1: Gangsta Boo] Naughty, naughty motherfuckers get the feelin' of this shit This shit so funky cause we underneath the grounds of Triple 6 I'm smokin' out, I'm livin' large, I keep you haters out my face Your life is over motherfucker, when I grab ahold that gauge My niggas from the Three 6 clique, they keep me hooked up on that game I'm chargin' niggas daily, maybe lady is out to get paid You hoes can't fuck wit me, I'm flowin', showin', hoes I ain't no hater Comin' strictly from the Southside gettin' greater later Everybody wanna gossip, he say, she say this and that You suckers need to grow up out that kiddy shit, quit fakin' just 'cause the Three 6 Mafia comin' '96 to two G's, bitch Ms. Lady Gangsta on that weed, kickin' real shit Just to let you know I barr no ho, come on the scenery Scenery, filled with red dots, infrared beams Now where you gon' go? You can't hide, your life is over, kid It's time for the killin' 'cause you have fucked up with the wrong ass bitch [Chorus: Buckshot] Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas in the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page [Verse 2: DJ Paul & Juicy J] Mane, this nigga killin' me, tellin' these people that he's about to go nationwide When he gotta drop his tapes off his self, plus he gotta call drunk to get a ride I saw the motherfucker standin' out in front Cats talkin' about, 'bout my tape The nigga talk about the hard shit on that tape, knowin' he sweet as cake The type of nigga, to tell these hoes that he's about to blow the fuck up The only blowin' up bitch you doin' is when I stick the grenade in your butt Since smokin' them mega blunts I can tell, fool, who's a liar I saw you for real, hit that ill shit, you Primo buyer Juice Mane I know what you sayin', these hoes be killin' me ever so softly But little do the bitch boy know I be sellin' his verses cassette or tape awfully Don't forget about the day you were in rage after you got that page From a doctor from the health department tellin' you you are infected wit AIDS This homeboy only car was a Maverick that he bought 'for the two-hunnid ($200,000) That he got for signin' his contract, you bitch boy, you fuckin' dummy Let the nigga think he got big time 'cause Steve put 'em on 'dem CD's Young nigga, you'll never sell more than the Three 6, bitch please [Chorus: Buckshot] Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page [Verse 3: Lord Infamous] Infamous is comin' strapped like an Italian-Arabic-Iraqi-Iranian-South American-Cuban-Guerilla-Colombian-Muslim, a subgroup maniac Comin' to rip your damn head off your neck, put your heart in a bag, then I sprinkle your ash Headin' straight to tha headquarter, chief on the blunt of the Indica down in my stash I reside in the insane asylum, the bodies I pile 'em on Infamous Island Where there is no smilin', the niggas buck-wildin', the weapons are silenced There's nothin' but violence Military barbarian, buck 'em and bury 'em Fuck with the scarier insanitarium, pallbearer carry 'em There's no merry love, only murder blood Then I take something worse out of all of these hollow points burst and disperse Going "boom", blastin' bone through the back of your shirt, you be burnt up and buried in dirt, that'll work The Scarecrow be smokin' these niggas with shit they can't get with, these bitches they'll never compare I'm comin' from the land of Triple 6, niggas still sufferin' every day man, I swear I see them fuckin' pray so low they better lay It happens everyday, don't make me grab the gauge Dangerously I play, I blast out your rib cage And put ya body in the back of the grey Chevrolet [Chorus: Buckshot] Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Grab my gauge, I'm in a rage Ride up on the strip and put some niggas on the front page