Lyrics to 6 Side
The fuck you mean, you don't know DJ Marc B?
Uh
Uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind
I know big bloods that'll smoke you like a rasta
I can't be with you, I only love my chopper
This Glock-23'll cook you like some pasta
And I can't wait to shoot your ass, I don't need no shotta
I had to upgrade all my bitches, check my roster
I'm tryna upgrade out the hood, take my stocks up
I made it out the hood, my heart still a Block Boy
And I can't show that nigga no love, he a cop, boy
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind (Triple R)
Money makin' nigga out that six side, ayy
Fuck what you heard, all these other niggas dick ridin'
Nigga don't want no smoke, ayy, tell him quit hidin' (Pop out)
Chasing paper, bitch, I feel like Gates, 'cause I can't get tired
Bad yellow bitch, colored hair like she 6ix9ine
Step on niggas' necks about that paper, I gotta get mine
Nigga dyin', my young nigga slidin', hittin' up fish fries
Make these niggas feel me, if he don't, he must be paralyzed
Fuck a blue check, in the streets, bitch, I'm verified
Nigga talkin' crazy on the low, he better clarify
They don't wanna let me in the door, I got 'em terrified
And nigga know not to go against this shit, fuck 'round, be terrorized, ayy (Triple R)
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind
Uh
Uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind
I know big bloods that'll smoke you like a rasta
I can't be with you, I only love my chopper
This Glock-23'll cook you like some pasta
And I can't wait to shoot your ass, I don't need no shotta
I had to upgrade all my bitches, check my roster
I'm tryna upgrade out the hood, take my stocks up
I made it out the hood, my heart still a Block Boy
And I can't show that nigga no love, he a cop, boy
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind (Triple R)
Money makin' nigga out that six side, ayy
Fuck what you heard, all these other niggas dick ridin'
Nigga don't want no smoke, ayy, tell him quit hidin' (Pop out)
Chasing paper, bitch, I feel like Gates, 'cause I can't get tired
Bad yellow bitch, colored hair like she 6ix9ine
Step on niggas' necks about that paper, I gotta get mine
Nigga dyin', my young nigga slidin', hittin' up fish fries
Make these niggas feel me, if he don't, he must be paralyzed
Fuck a blue check, in the streets, bitch, I'm verified
Nigga talkin' crazy on the low, he better clarify
They don't wanna let me in the door, I got 'em terrified
And nigga know not to go against this shit, fuck 'round, be terrorized, ayy (Triple R)
Ménage à trois with two bad bitches, they both dimes
I give 'em back to the streets, they were never mine
You play with me, I'll triple cross, nigga, you ain't my kind
They wipe your ass and your nose, they the real slimes
These niggas tellin', point fingers, and they throwin' signs
They pump faking in they rap, all facts on mines
I don't listen to that bullshit, I don't even have the time
And I'ma always chase the paper, even if I'm blind