Lyrics:
'cause it look live
They gave her forty years in New Orleans, callin me boys
Shorty was young, by three days had a great bid
Light is shinin' beauty
to reality
Wake up in the morning by myself
So I'mma go hard 'til I got nothing left
'Cause I'mma die by myself, just like you, motherfucker
'Cause you ain't
consciousness
Infinity frequency
Golden light from
The great central sun is
The Christ consciousness
33rd degree of
Ascension frequency
Golden key
Secret
And you feel it
It's real it's not a sample! I saw you playing my piano!
Unh-Huh!
[Forte - 3rd Verse]
Now I, rock jew-els now
an MC, who can't be the are-E-D
Fuck wit me, you'll get slapped up and capped up easy
By me and a tre-eight pistol, so vacate the premises
Or ask
At my wrist ay
Now look at my wrist aye
At my wrist ay
Now look at my wrist aye
3rd verse
It’s my time
I be balling
You in the sidelines
My
I'm just like one, two, three
Everybody wanna go up with a team
They just wanna grow
But they never wanna show
That grass need a mow
So fresh, so
Three time Nobel Peace Prize winner
First black man to pilot an air craft
The nigga that made up the Nike Swoosh
The man that made cool Aid say, "Ohh
up and when you listen hold yo' choppers up (ayy hold them choppers up)
If I want you dead, I'm on yo' ass, it ain't no dodgin' us (ain't no dodgin'
catch him in his zone
'96 Hova, 3rd person
You think he'd talk all of this shit if he weren't working
Is he still rapping on that Blue microphone in
It's a feast On whoever we defeat
My last loaf of bread me and my niggas we gone eat
Type of niggas pull up on your family nigga while they sleep
Red
I should adopt a more violent disposition[00:44.43]Maybe by definition, maybe with clarification[00:47.34]They think so, I am, now witness
x's)
I feel so lady
I, I never thought I could feel so much like a lady
It's good to have doors open for me
By a real man, who wants to hold my hand
ain't do that shit myself
Hold on, play just like him, you gon' get him with that choppa
And all these stupid motherfuckers wanna bring up my problems
But
a Coca-Cola
Wait up, bitch, hold up, hold up
You ain't there to hold the pole up
OG kush diet, OG kush diet
OG kush diet, OG kush diet
My partna just
corvette
Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three
You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree
With the strings of a washburn
Stretched
the plan
We travel to Beijing and end up in Japan
Hoods everywhere, bring the goods and gear
And teach them how to hold mics and grow them beards
Then
Nigga, you need to git up, git out and git something
Don't let the days of your life pass by
You need to git up, git out and git something
Don't
the bay
Rolled up a J
Smoking and editing up to LA
Just got off facetime with Bae
Me and the squad on the way
Dotting all my I's crossing all my t's
and me
No need for three
Company without a degree
Class lost its effect on me
When I realized
No one really knows
What they're talkin' about
They just
just hit her with the Heisman
According to percentages they told me I would never win
Gares finna vent again it's really getting evident
Talk in 3rd
grinding
I feel like I'm 3rd shift
We laid strong ass bridges laid brick by brick
We stuck through shit
When most people fussed and quit
I know the look
I'm incredible I mix up shit like cake mix
Keep it blazin hot rhymes burn to keep you frost bit
MC's is assed out cause they lost it
Peep my
Thinking bigger picture always think ahead
Who holds my hand the moment I meet death
Calms me in the moment when I'm stressed
Seeks to feel defeat to be
Discuss these hold up by 3rd degree Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In