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The ants go marching three by three,
The little one stops to climb a tree
And they all go marching down to the ground
To get out of the rain, BOOM! BOOM!
down to the ground
To get out of the rain
Boom, boom, boom

The ants go marching three by three, hurrah, hurrah
The ants go marching three by three
I helped pioneer this
Ho biatch

I'm irkin', head spinnin' dome swervin'
Emergin' to the right to the left, see three, hallucinatin'
Stoned ain't
Roc-A-Fella, Ruff Ryders, niggas scared of that
Got a new motto this year, "Don't fuck with my ones"
Knock on your door, three in the mornin'
"It's just us
of the Ying Yang Twins soldiers
Nigga I tried, I told you
We put it down coming right back, 'cause it's like that, on a phat track
with a fat sack
D-Roc
nigga
My team smoking that green
If you ain't seen me then you must be a lame, nigga
And I'll give you three shots hold this heat down
Shorty pussy so
King Tatie
This bar is closed down
I’m closing pro-tools
I'm bouncing this track down
I'm in a physical mind zone
Lyrical psycho
I get more likes
get the best of me
Though it test me on a daily basis
And traces the tracks of my tears down my cheeks and over my lips
Taste the freedom though it
spike it
Voicing opinions but holding laryngitis
But I don’t hear ‘em, I’m a winner by law
Track em down like the subway
When they sub par
Sub-zero
[Prelude: Tonic]
Yah, you know my signature
Be the Tonic with my man Earthquake and we be the Gift
Constantly surrounded by The Movement in
off the backboard
Fuck a Grammy, that is not what I come back for
I came for hip-hop, niggas forgot to lock the back door

Live by the code, die by
a four-door
I'm poor though, catch me rocking a Lisa Lobo (yeah)
Bump yo ho, I want more to the boatload (yo, yeah, yo)

And the Pope can't save your soul,
a four-door
I'm poor though, catch me rocking a Lisa Lobo (yeah)
Bump yo ho, I want more to the boatload (yo, yeah, yo)

And the Pope can't save your soul,
ABCD EFG
Even with the alphabet
I'll give you 3rd degree
QRS TUV
Spazz on the track W Y S E

ABCD EFG
Even with the alphabet
I'll give you 3rd degree
of thinking
That was the worst of the crimes
By the time they killed Ms. Bonnie
She had already died 3 times

A full moon was flyin’
The wind was high
First and the third in row (whoa)
Junkies, they beatin down the door (woo)
Thumb through that check when I count up that check
Like I'm playing three
rock on)
We keep going

Nigga breath can tell by how you rap you don't believe
Ain't hungry no mo' so off me you feed
I hustle at a speed between
rock on)
We keep going

Nigga breath can tell by how you rap you don't believe
Ain't hungry no mo' so off me you feed
I hustle at a speed between
Uh, GOOD Music, this our year
Backing drums by DJ Premier
Now let me count it down
Who the fuck up in here
Common, Don, Old G, battle rap, oh
That
and walk right out the door
Ask God for forgiveness for them times before
And now I'm rocking Christian I'm talking Dior
Don't want no hellcat I want me
out of his door
Without making a sound
The tracks on the ground
Made by one person's shoes
They came and they suffered
Enduring abuse
8 @ 3:01 PC3
shack
On the banks of the river by the railroad track
We kept chickens in a pen in the back
And everybody said we was po' folks
My daddy was a farmer
Blud, come on g... unless I go jail or I get killed by the opps
Bruv mans always here to support you, remember that
Have some confidence, have some
Puttin fingerprints on my bicycle
Walkin up to have a drink at the club ?there is? three Irish chicks
Lookin at me like I'm sick
Walkin by chin-chins I

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