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Just Another Crazy Chick Lyrics

from Forgotten Freshness Vol. 3

"Just Another Crazy Chick" is track #8 on the album Forgotten Freshness Vol. 3. It was written by Joseph Bruce, Joseph Ustler, Paul Beauregard, Jordan Houston.
"Just Another Crazy Chick" is track #8 on the album Forgotten Freshness Vol. 3. It was written by Joseph Bruce, Joseph Ustler, Paul Beauregard, Jordan Houston.

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I choke hold up, aright, listen
(Nope, fuckin' go)
I stab you with an umbrella and then open it
(No)
'Cause I'm sick like a diseased Ethiopian
(That shit's wack)

Aright fuck that aright hold up aright, c'mon
(Wait a second, listen)
I'll peel your cap back with a cannonball
I buck them all, fuck them all
(Yeah)

We standin' tall
(Whoo)
Three 6 mafia
(Yes, yes)
Insane Clown Posse and Twiztid
(No)

We used to, we used to
We used to rob for them petty thangs
Like a gold chain
Or a mothafuckin' pinky ring now it's cocaine

If you see me on the dope train
I'm the dope man
Cigarettes in my right hand
Ready to make a stand

Old folks scared of eye gain
Out the window pane
They be lookin' with a migraine
While I catch a drain

And you know it's a fuckin' shame
When you in this game
Tryin' to sell to a sprung lane
I control your brain

Now, do my niggaz, bust glocks, fuck wit us, bitch see
It's the buckets of the four, bust a trick, make 'em bleed
Through his neck, through his back, nigga, cover them hoes
Ain't nuttin' else gonna be workin' when you twirkin' wit some pros

Automatic with the carrier, silence on the barrier
Hang them in the closet, kidnap the treasurer
Bandannas on our face from wildin' out like some cowboys
Hoe, we need the keys and I'm talkin' like, now boy

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gon' lie
Put your guards up
Show them who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gonna lie
Put your guards up
Show 'em who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

We the clique that don't play
Quick to rip your head off and hand it to violent J
And bury it away
I'm on a spree, killin' for free
Without a conscience
Bitches, we on a mission to bomb shit

Twiztid, I.C.P., with the triple six clique
Hoes that pop lip
Can eat a dick
Or get your neck slit
I'm havin' these memory lapses
Of bodies off in the caskets
With no heads
Monoxide, ruler of the dead

We 50-deep on the lawn
With the psychopathic leathers on
You say it's on, so come bring it on
We gettin' crunk at your funerals
Treat us like we criminals
We juggalo individuals

We just another crazy clique
(Woop, woop)
I.C.P., Twiztid, triple six
All up in this bitch
And we runnin' shit
We doin' drive by's on all
Y'all with chainsaws
Pure uncut, redefinin' rugged and raw

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gon' lie
Put your guards up
Show them who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gonna lie
Put your guards up
Show 'em who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

Just another crazy clique to fuck around and bury ya
Taking care of ya, we scarier than malaria
I walk around your neighborhood like Frankenstein
Chokin' anybody I find, I'm takin' mine

You mothafuckas can't get near it
'Cause you fear it
Look at my glass eye
I'm sick like Lou Gerigh
I dunno judo, but I go kee-ya
Fuck you up so bad, a wheelchair couldn't see ya

Listen, ya hear that, slut?
That was me
Pullin' this dick out ya butt
I'm a juggalo serial killa
Steady screamin' fuck ya'll
I stab bitches with a chainsaw

We walk around Compton
And watts beat scrubs up
And right into thugs face
I throw the dubs up
We tearin' clubs up, down south from the D
Three six y'all, Twiztid, and I.C.P.

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gon' lie
Put your guards up
Show them who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

We be just another crazy clique, doin' whatever to get us by
When we pumped up, you out of luck, bitch I ain't gonna lie
Put your guards up
Show 'em who really runnin' the streets with them calicos
All kinds of shit bitch you can't compete

Songwriters
JOSEPH BRUCE, JOSEPH USTLER, PAUL BEAUREGARD, JORDAN HOUSTON

Published by
Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC

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