3 Kings
T.I.P and Young Thugger, nigga
Yeah, you know Tip bangin' nigga
Ain't nothing changed but the bezels and the rings
Watches and the chains
Hey, your future my past, I shoot yo' ho ass
Just like a bitch, I will do yo' ho ass
My MAC-10 is in the galactic, we'll crack it
You looking for action, I'll Pluto your ass
Lookin' for some trouble, what it do nigga?
I don't really need but a few niggas
And for the most part, I'm a cool nigga
But I'll stomp a mud hole into you nigga
Check it, the ho shit you kick, I'm not with it
You put it on them, I'mma mind my business
But if you come in my yard, disregard my gangsta
Will I aim that banger? Nigga find out, didn't he?
I put his ass in a box on timeout
For the wrong thought, blow a nigga mind out
You was talking all that shit, now what you crying bout?
When it go down, I'm the wrong one to rhyme bout nigga
Say you did what? What you lying bout nigga?
I'm a front street nigga, you a wannabe nigga
Everybody know you don't want none of me nigga
Armageddon for you what it gonna be nigga
Hey, all I gotta do is make my plan
All the motherfucking games, I don't play my man
If I slap his ass now in the mouth, bet next
Time I see him, pussy nigga try to shake my hand
Pull-up shooting out the avalanche
Every since I counted blue cheese, I ain't liking ranch, I done
Sold a hundred thousand bells of midgets like I got a plan, hey
Let me see your hands if you feel like you the man
I want war nigga
Pull up, pull up, pull up, I need war nigga
Shooters need some war, hey
I swear to, I need the war
Hey, W-A-R
Pull up in a car, two hundred stars
(What you shooting nigga?) AK, no handgun, uh
Man, goddamn, goddamn
Pullin' up in the Lamb, (doors up) cop that bitch and go H.A.M
Damn, pull up to the spot, shoot a nigga grams
Damn, catch a nigga down bad rob him for they yams
Ooh, catch me on the block, Young Thug got grams
Ooh (Tell em bout it now shawty), Ooh Ooh
Who there? Nigga got K's on K's on shooters
Hey, hey-hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey-hey-hey
I swear to fucking god, man
Hey man, I'm ready
Hey look man, I'm ready to go on cash out
Hey man, nigga, diamonds to dog shit
Nigga, you don't get rich, nigga, next three years
Nigga, I swear to God, nigga
You show me a ten-million dollar tax return
I'll give you ten million dollars man
Three years man! Bitch ass
Yeah, you know Tip bangin' nigga
Ain't nothing changed but the bezels and the rings
Watches and the chains
Hey, your future my past, I shoot yo' ho ass
Just like a bitch, I will do yo' ho ass
My MAC-10 is in the galactic, we'll crack it
You looking for action, I'll Pluto your ass
Lookin' for some trouble, what it do nigga?
I don't really need but a few niggas
And for the most part, I'm a cool nigga
But I'll stomp a mud hole into you nigga
Check it, the ho shit you kick, I'm not with it
You put it on them, I'mma mind my business
But if you come in my yard, disregard my gangsta
Will I aim that banger? Nigga find out, didn't he?
I put his ass in a box on timeout
For the wrong thought, blow a nigga mind out
You was talking all that shit, now what you crying bout?
When it go down, I'm the wrong one to rhyme bout nigga
Say you did what? What you lying bout nigga?
I'm a front street nigga, you a wannabe nigga
Everybody know you don't want none of me nigga
Armageddon for you what it gonna be nigga
Hey, all I gotta do is make my plan
All the motherfucking games, I don't play my man
If I slap his ass now in the mouth, bet next
Time I see him, pussy nigga try to shake my hand
Pull-up shooting out the avalanche
Every since I counted blue cheese, I ain't liking ranch, I done
Sold a hundred thousand bells of midgets like I got a plan, hey
Let me see your hands if you feel like you the man
I want war nigga
Pull up, pull up, pull up, I need war nigga
Shooters need some war, hey
I swear to, I need the war
Hey, W-A-R
Pull up in a car, two hundred stars
(What you shooting nigga?) AK, no handgun, uh
Man, goddamn, goddamn
Pullin' up in the Lamb, (doors up) cop that bitch and go H.A.M
Damn, pull up to the spot, shoot a nigga grams
Damn, catch a nigga down bad rob him for they yams
Ooh, catch me on the block, Young Thug got grams
Ooh (Tell em bout it now shawty), Ooh Ooh
Who there? Nigga got K's on K's on shooters
Hey, hey-hey, hey
Hey, hey, hey-hey-hey
I swear to fucking god, man
Hey man, I'm ready
Hey look man, I'm ready to go on cash out
Hey man, nigga, diamonds to dog shit
Nigga, you don't get rich, nigga, next three years
Nigga, I swear to God, nigga
You show me a ten-million dollar tax return
I'll give you ten million dollars man
Three years man! Bitch ass
Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan H. Smith, Stayve Thomas, Bernard James Freeman, Willie James Clarke, Clarence Reid, Clinton Darryl Mansell, Clifford Joseph Harris, Sammie D. Norris, Micah Le Var Troy, Leroy Williams, Cleavon Darnell Prince
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.