Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
I’m scopin’ out ya busta cause I got no love f-izz-or ya
I got green Chevy wid a trunk that’ll hold ya, down
‘Til I reach my part of town Blackside bound clown
Shoot ya down, have ya ever heard the sound
Of a S-K auto round, trick
Ditch a b#tch in a second click, quick
On a rapper for the hell of it
Similar to love that I got for Three six
Sixness in the heart of me
Cause my b-izz-ody wid a love for robbery
Scarecrow wid the cloudy smoke flyin’ out my mouth
The little hundred rounds give it to me now, or me pow
Me c#ck a slug, drop you in thee mud, in thee blood
Eventually you pass away and then me choke on me bud
Me wonder why smokin’ this thunder
Makes me go and hunt out a n#gg# for money
I start to share out all ah the money
And me do not stop until that bloody Sunday
No matter sunshine or rain
Mane shut the f#ck up and give me everythang
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Because me really love to make a stang
Mr. high-capper, don’t make me touch ya mane
Back in the days, as a kid I played “stick ’em up”
Now I’m gettin’ buck, gained nuts
Robbin’ armored trucks
Walkin’ through the streets of Hyde Park
When it’s pitch dark
Comin’ out the cuts, wid a gat
When I’m ready to rob
Hard to my job
I was makin’ bustas think twice
Thinkin’ that I’m f#ckin’ nice
Knowin’ I’ll make they body ice cold
Then throw ’em in the hideaway where bodies lay
Wid them thangs, we’ll split ya brain
When we stang
Because me real-, because me real-
Because me real-, because me really love to make a stang
Because me real-, because me real-
Because me real-, because me really love to make a stang
Because me real-, because me real-
Because me real-, because me really love to make a stang
Because me real-, because me real-
Because me real-, because me really love to make a stang
Because me real-, because me real-
Because me real-, because me really love to make a stang
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Three 6 Mafia Lyrics – Love To Make A Stang