Lyrics:
from?)
No time to stop and think
Pull your strap before they do or you get shot before you blink
Straight outta Compton, 3 times I told you
The third
was blood on the bell-pull
In the hot hotel
Mediterranean
The middle of the world
Two middle-class English boys
And a middle-class English girl
other minute want to rock my flow.
And every third minute, y'all want to swerve in it.
Cum quick like a virgin in it. Ow! So far, kickin' this here with
Scared to live, scared to move These Days
Your soul sits on your third eye, Soul sits on the throne
Told you I was the third wheel, that's three wheel
shit was tragic
Your second shit put niggas to sleep, but they gassed it
Your third shit was massive and that was your prime
I was trailin' right
I'm the flat tire
The fat guy you never picked in gym class
So don't try to put me in a box
I don't want to walk down the street with you
I'm nothing
throwin up the ROC
Just like a crack head
I got these freaky bitches pullin'
On my third leg they got me throwin money
Out the fuckin drophead
I take this
clothes, pretty ass toes
Oh, how I love these pretty ass hoes
Pretty ass, high class, anything goes
Catch 'em in the club throwing pretty ass 'bows
Long
Playa haters every minute want to stop my dough (uh-huh)
And every other minute want to rock my flow (you know)
And every third minute, y'all want
and quite talented.
Do you have an extra quarter?
Got to get to class tomorrow.
All is fair in Asbury.
Make my way into Berkeley.
When I was seven, I stared
So here he comes, right on time
And he has class, 'n quite a style
All of his own and they all know him
As Lupin, the third
He walks the line, one
god somebody's doin a good job
Impersonatin him J-Hova spittin game from da range rover what da fuck is y'all
Doin in da third lane get over slow ya
can hardly speak,
cause it's the third late pass that I got this week,
so to my first class I run and don't walk,
all I hear is my sneakers
Yeah, he's got such a pretty face
He's been calling me for days I'll give him a try
Student body, best in class, got me foolish for that ass
Yeah,
to California
Say hello to Mr west now
Who's the best on the west now?
KDot, Jay Rock hands down
Anybody that feel different
You die first class on a cemetery
And never catch on fire
How come? You silly motherfucker, I'm fire
Smack the Devil over the cheek
Gave him a third-degree burn
Iced it down the same week
T doing so well, first class from a old jail
T Ferg did fifteen in the feds, getting no mail
My daddy died and my cousin too
They didn't let them out
is it
New Orleans on the map again, the flow is exquisite
Soul-controller, Third Ward soldier
Jay Elec scratch and sniff, smell of magnolias
I fell
When I mix my corn with my fucking mashed
Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin ass
Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is upper-class
There's a rain forest dying, and a baby crying.
In a third world country where the families trying.
Bringing home what they're
making from the trees
don't worry, I got it, I got it
Who am I, young Wizzle fo shizzle
Flow sicker than a third floor in hospitals
My charm starburst, my watch skittles
my f- mashed
Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin a-
Missouri Southern roots, what the f- is upper-class?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner
I use to push up on a girl Salt 'N' Peppa Push It Push It
D's in school cause the music was my focus
Jokes in class but when I learned I didn't pass
(Yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)
How many times did I have to start over?
Niggas hated on me, it's over
Third shot, hit your head
What you
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