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we'll get em' on feet 3KG, 3DV, we was shootin' at niggas for weeks Slide in the V, but we'll get em' on feet Tryna empty this glock leave em' right
I'm strapped up and G'd up inna cell feet up Sittin' on my bunk Cap comin' put the trees up Thuggin' like I'm Kevin Miller always throwin' the 3 up When
now When I stretch to the clouds My feet are bigger than three lagoons And I can roll like a magnificent beach ball, Striving high! Uh! Uh! Uh!
then you know that i stay clean My sister the same thing, she steppin in 3rd degree With her brand new job she steppin with hurt feet I dont plan
on these papers That I crumbled in the trash I feel a rumble guess my crash Was a symbol to my dad On the day I was had Hold a fray to a chad And a tray
All I see is the bullshit the red doors and the full clips I'm sitting in a a booth full of pity damn I should have made a milli by now The name is
muhfucka is stumpin on my feets/ I kneel down on one knee/ to get him to stop then I punched him in his sheet/ his dick it was pretty discrete/ he/ thought I
to me At this rate I’ll be belly up by the time I’m thirty-three They will do the autopsy but it was jealousy You can donate my organs to someone else in
I'll be the one to let this roof cave in on me Buried in this house, this wooden graveyard by the sea We push away our families to understand our
$1, 100 in your pocket what made You move to Los Angeles? Frank Ocean: I had been Putting together these Demos that I was going to properly Record in
Niggas thought I got evicted how my Shit up in the streets BIG but ain't nothing obese but the feast I'm skinny cause I'm always on my feet Gotta hustle
clouds in the sky My mind start to wonder I was thinking to myself why Then upon a second look I saw lights down bellow and slowly they got smaller til I
of money. Like I say ol' Jack Johnson he was a pugilist, He was a pugilist by preference and by profession And one day ol' Jack came walkin' on down by
born in Bethlehem Said he was born, born, born in Bethlehem Children go where I send thee, How shall I send thee? Hey, I'm gonna send thee two by
clones was born Yo I know that's corny, no, speaking of corn Aye yo, fellas wait Yo Em you three should go celebrate And what better place to take you
Was painted red, the stripe was white It was eighteen feet from the bow to the stern light Second hand from a dealer in Atlanta I rode up with
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
smooth This chopped cheese is from Red Hook And this Glock was 3D printed in Bangladesh This shit is international I'm posted up at the crib-o with
And so when flooded by the life, I wrote this slowly So eleven songs later, you get to know me This year, twenty-eighteen was in my dreams Build a team by
my feet grounded but I feel high The higher I get the world is getting smaller Came to my senses as I bust a nut I want it like I need it so I got
[Pre-Chorus] One, two, three One, two, three One, two One, two, three [Hook 1] I'm a' count to three By the time I get to three Everybody in this b Better be
some new flows But even with new shit the cons still outweigh the pros I'm on a disc with RXS3 You know my wrist on froze But I still wish that I was
when the first light was coming up Between then and now many things occurred An old girl walks by in an orange t-shirt It costs 10.50 E to buy three
the unforgettable name Of the man they call the Master Gee Well, my name is known all over the world By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls I'm goin' down in
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