[Verse 1: Lord Infamous] Sippin' on six murdered ministers' sauce, salty blood from the cup that they call Holy Grail Silenced for singin' so many sick songs of a place they call heaven, a skitzo from hell Restin' upon my black throne n just spyin' on suspicious suspects while sittin' on souls Sinister schemes I decipher the scribes of an ancient tools of past life voodoo and scrolls Satanic insignia wrote on the scene it's so sacred created by Lucifer slaves Silent, secluded in secret somewhere in the swamp in the land of old testament days Infinite SIX, eternal the SIX, forever the SIX, I sits outta the flames Sick minded soldiers are suffering, seekin' and searching to slay with severe forms of pain Scarecrow was me, I was sent from the the stem to cause scorn with the thorn on my venomous tips Such innocent antisocial, my there is no sun daily as the rain wipes from my lips Indulge yourself with the poisons and noises, money and drugs, material goals I tell you how it shall profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses his own soul
[Verse 2: Gangsta Boo] I click so quick, my spells are slick I'm comin' again with much more You niggas be jealous cuz my profit sellin' Its fucking yo bitch but Nig-ga-roes Just listen, I shouldn' have to mention Yo ass is in the clique, you fell in the click Cuz you run yo mouth around the wrong misses bitch Yo peep this, my niggas be packin' artillery Making yo ass whine I'm packin' this bomb ass car That's robbin yo ass blind all the time You think I love you, never nigga I'm out to get my cheese Like Roger Rabbit, who framed the nigga That guy left on his knees? Smokin' out, cuz I need to get high before I go on my mission My profit soldiers call me all about this thing called pimpin' So listen nigga before you think you got a convict (bitch) You got a steaming matter lil' boy that want the lifestyle of rich
[Verse 3: DJ Paul] We creepin' up on these hoes wit the Mac-10, the Mac-12 Hit 'em wit the Mac-11, catch ya slippin at the 7-11 Put the slugs in the back of his cap, send him straight to heaven Seven little villains couldn't stop the six Certainly when ya fuck around wit da Three Six Mafia on top a ya Game, really gotta wake 'em up wit the piggy bank Really tho, sissy ho, we up in ya house Boo under da bed, Crunchy behind da couch Get 'em up wit galled off Wit da mother fucking shit we talkin' about Thug'd out, drugged out, already Get 'em in they mother fucking sleep like Freddy Split it, doin' it, them mutha fuckin niggas doin' it Pourin' it, the mutha fuckin Posse bitch While you thinking we slackin' up, we jackin' up yo fuckin shit Enemies from day one, but today sons, don't last, so ball it Where ya runnin'? Da Three Six gunnin' All bitches up out the Jeep Hangin low and standin' high, stayin' high, on the mutha fuckin' street
[Verse 4: Crunchy Black] Should I let a nigga live? Should I let a nigga die? I should watch a nigga cry While I sing dem lullaby As da tears hit the floor Dealin' shit, how not a roar? Crunchy Black is not a whore And Raven Red and heavens door As I soar through yo life You be beggin' for some Christ Ain't no mutha fuckin' Christ All I wanna see is die
[Verse 5: Juicy J] You sleep at night we comin' thru yo mothafuckin' window pane Make sure at night you shut it tight so the killer won't split ya brain Don't make a move in ya room, you better believe it's a big surprise Nuttin but them two like a Glock or a set infrared between ya eyes Tie that bitch up With the gray tape, rest of the body wrap it up with a belt Chop, chop, chop Cut the dead body up til ya know there's nothing left Please stay sleep!
[Hook] 2x Sleep baby sleep, Three 6 is on the creep Beware of this Klan, Prophet is just too deep Sleep baby sleep
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Genius Annotation1 contributor
“Sleep” has Three 6 Mafia once again flexing their sampling muscles. This song is a sample of “Sleep, Baby Sleep,” from the 1995 horror movie Sleep Stalker.
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