Lyrics:
t-shirt
Sleepy head on my chest saying three words
Girl, my greener grass is anywhere you're at
By the time I hit the tracks on the edge of town
I'm
the front door
We better go through the back
See, that was back then, now look where we at
Straight to VIP, my niggaz, man we deep
You gonna go by 2 or 3
Mariana Trench
And thinkin', holdin' my breath, until I feel 3-2 like Wretch
Until my last bastard breath
I'ma cut man down on a barberous flex
Who
got
A plug? And she say, "Yes I do"
Ain't had it great
So pops butter with the NYU
Three semesters in, she calls her dad
She says I'm through (Dad I
high voice distorted
If a Beast' to wish play fetus, I'd have him aborted
How can you be so stupid?
Put to bed, three kids to a third track
Cap
it's just 1 me (Just 1 me)
Seen me hit the gas, auto-start, no key
(No key) me and YG in DC
(YG, ay) twenty ounce
I pour the three (Pour the three
(Hey ho)
(They'll go)
Nowhere now today
(Hey Ho)
(Words spoke)
In time's kissed goodbye
A beat to rip
A verse to spit
A track to mix
This is sick
(Gangsta Grizillz)
Janeice, I see you (I ain't cut it off, I just hung up)
It's Gangsta Grillz, you bastards (yeah)
Cover my tracks like butter, so
at school, now at the institute
You will soon receive, tracks on the record
Listen carefully, do not be distracted by heresy
This is the story the middle
no more, I was made robo by my dad
Fact that I got jumped by 3 niggas, who didn't have a blade
Throwing shade at my name, when I pull up you go hidin
Was my first day back, now the second time to slap
Tearing up the track like Landon Coop at quarterback
Fucking up the cats like Gipson with sack
cells are starting over
It's way too possible to drop a drum track
Power the patterns by keeping the patterns
It's way too possible to jump and drop down
cool
Stand tall, by myself, speed it up, you a fool
Mr. know it all, disrespectful, keep on climb
Imma take mine, one time
Two times, three times, four
somewhere that we could never go
No tracks by the rov from apolo
The landers scotch tape, foil, and poles
The earth should look bigger than the moon in its
Smoking weed, true indeed
Sick emcees presented by tecca neez
Check it out
Ain't nobody busting like the nigga with a gun up in the middle
to get lit with the homies
I done came up the game
They ain't really much I ain't seen
I-I-I seen rappers faded
Houses raided
I seen souls traded
I don't
Get the bag, kill the track
Smoke the pack
Six Three One we getting that
It's the Neighborhood Reign yo
Ayo Micken. What? Go get that
I get the bag
And my flow so hot, cook crack, Lamar Odom
Your boy's back, so relax, the cash stacks
Tracks, attacks cats on wax, then whack rats
Okay, by now, probably
[Repeat 3x]
It's only a dream
[Verse 1]
I know that gobbled as a child, and got her own
Still he got to bless me too, I been struggling too long
One, and here comes the two to the three and four
Then I drop the beat I have in store
Lay dynamics on the top like a rug
Make it sound smooth
One, and here comes the two to the three and four
Then I drop the beat I have in store
Lay dynamics on the top like a rug
Make it sound smooth
the real vibes
And did it all wit my tribe
Still here like Nowitzki dawgo it's no surprise
I stood by the guys
These three's forever fly
Promise that
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
a pavilion
Three times for the beat when I killed it
Four times for my bro's in the building
I wanna be the dude when I'm older who gets looked up to by all
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