- Votes:
Sinead O'Connor F/ U2 - 3 Card Molly lyrics
[Ras Kass]
 What, yeah, yeah
 Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the Waterproof
 with my nigga Bud'da, on the track
 Golden State Warriors..
 Eatin every rapper on the plate
 Huh, feel me
 I got three-oh-fo's in three-one-oh
 on section eight, with multiple one-eighty-sevens
 Sport a Marilyn Manson t-shirt when I die and go to heaven
 Smoke a beady, scrape my lungs, smoke the resin
 Remember the name Ras Kass-ciano
 Get to clownin y'all punk bitches, cause I'm a Mac, like Ronald
 I make Mac make money, and mack murder wack rappers
 My Makaveli verse Bomb First, the Mac-11'll gat cha
 When I get at cha, the situation tenses
 Fatality before you ever reach your senses
 Got so-called writers, crashing into brick fences
 like my name was Al Fayed so you die, like that white princess
 If you lookin for sympathy, you better look
 between R and T, in the fucking dictionary
 See the object of the game is to win, stack some ends, sippin Henn'
 Whip a Benz and leave it to your next of kin
Chorus: repeat 2X
 [RK] Pick a card any card, I bet you can't pull it
 [GS] Golden State, number one with a bullet
 [XZ] It's three card molly
 [RK] Will they ever stop?
 [XZ] Probably not
 [SN] Pull your spine through your mouth and watch your body drop
 [Saafir the Saucee Nomad]
 The un-edited medic, on the cut, with a degree in metaphysics
 A doctor, with a lot of patients/patience
 And perseverance -- flows like an ocean linerSinead O'Connor F/ U2 - 3 Card Molly - http://motolyrics.com/sinead-oconnor-f-u2/3-card-molly-lyrics.html
 that sails/sales like a clearance, I'm bilingual
 Fly like a flamingo, I'm a pitcha, everything I freak
 I eat like Al Pacino, you don't like me baby
 You ain't happy, you need some Ecstasy
 Now you in my properties, but you have to pay my equity
 For the lowest point in my character
 I'll reach the highest place in the house when I rock
 like the Qu'ran, fuse hot, fluid with flavor like buillion cube
 Been this way since I was fourteen
 And like this I been runnin shit without the use of Sportscreme
 Rippin up tracks like immigrant Chinese, peep the game I lay
 I'm grim, I brim over my brow when I rip
 Never write rhymes with slim fingertips
 Each syllable you choose to use is light as a flower
 Keep tryin to go gold
 but all you're gettin is a golden shower
Chorus
 [Xzibit]
 Look, now if it wasn't for the West
 These rap niggaz wouldn't need a vest around they chest
 Keep bustin about where you rest, and what you own, and what you drive
 So the day some niggaz come for you I'm really not surprised
 Mr. Black Bruce Willis, please don't kill us
 I show mercy like Kevorkian, like a scorpion
 We sting you from behind and put it in you, so meet me at the venue
 Put you on the spot to put you on the menu
 Fricaseed emcee, we be the ones that keep the pussy hot
 Xzibit livin life, like a bull inside a china shop
 Strippin everything, see you ain't even got a dime to drop
 Go ahead and call the cops, you ain't said nathin
 Jerry Spring-you out the studio, then Suge Knight you
 to the parkin lot, niggaz ain't ready for all this heat we got
 Picture yourself crushin Xzibit with your tough talk
 That's like Christopher Reeves doing the crip walk
Chorus











