Lyrics:
left her number
But not another word
Then she waited by the phone on Sunday evening
And this is what he heard
If your callin' 'bout my heart, it's
a gun it's old P, new P
Prob'ly layin' in the sun
Prob'ly on a PI, if I call you king
I ain't talkin' 'bout rap, nigga
That status go to BI
You can fuck
bidding five to fifteen
On the Strength for the way I manslaughter
Rock your girl's boat like the Titanic
Man, I got more numbers than the Ninex, plus
Sex him well, get him high, he might fuck around and die
[1 - Lil' Kim]
I guess you know by now who's number one
Brooklyn, Brooklyn that's where I'm
as your host for today
This track we're about to play reminds me of my ex
Fuck that
Anyways, here's Fitch with the album
P.s. I'm Good, Luv.
Enjoy
It's 1AM
to do? (yeah)
What I'm supposed to do? (huh?)
What I'm supposed to do? (yeah)
I'm surrounded by all these bad bitches, but I only want two (two)
I'm
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
You'll still see me
I go forward right by 3 3 3
I'm Jamie, don't watch J M E
I do what I want, I'm free free free
Wiley's my bredrin, he's got an album
Engine, engine number nie
On that Mason-Dixon line
Chasing whiskey, sipping shine
Gripping nickel plated nines
So you get yours and I'll get mine
Admiral ackbar, bringing the traps like Lesnar
Kill it and move in silence
I'm cruising by in a Tesla
Your music sounds weird bro, sorta like a hybrid
(Man
billboard,
Number 1 & Bout It. That's why niggas trying to get us
On the radio, now niggas might see the P on the
Video, but a niggas still true
I'm the three
And three (badda-ba-ba-by-by) it's the magic numberrr
(badda-ba-ba-by-by)
Chorus: KRS-One
It takes 7 Dee Jays to control a sound
Start this album out by saying
I love you p-red
I wish you weren't dead
Fucck a piece of lead
One time he carried an
AR across a persons lawn
In his
words before they
Crop me out the picture
That a selfie, self less, I'm self raising
I had no P, outta breath, I kept chasing
Couldn't go sleep, no rest
(Bobby Soxer)
Do the D-A-N-C-E, one, two, three, four
Fight
Stick to the B-E-A T, get ready to ignite
You were such a P-Y T
Catching all the lights
3 Victims
Written, recorded, produced, engineered, & performed by Broc Jesch (Breezy)
Chorus
3 Victims (3 Victims) 3 Victims (3 Victims) 3 Victims
numbers, flip a
Key, fuck some haters, shake 'em off
Get a P, sell that bitch for thirty-three
Like I'm in Boston
Pockets full of blue hundreds
Yeah that's
the fifth couldn't make it.
The number's even - now I'm leavin'.
We're never gettin' took by a bitch with a weave in.
Her and the troops are right behind me.
(repeat 4X) [Hit Squad] The head banger, WHAT?
"Yeahhh, head crack, head crack" -- Grand Puba, Slow Down
(repeat 3X) [Hit Squad] The head banger, WHAT?
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
[Lil' Kim]
I'm the L-I-L to the K-I-M
And not be -I-G, R.I.P. ba-by
I, rep BK and the, N.Y.C.
Don't no bitch do it like I D-I-D
And, since
[Lil' Kim]
I'm the L-I-L to the K-I-M
And not be -I-G, R.I.P. ba-by
I, rep BK and the, N.Y.C.
Don't no bitch do it like I D-I-D
And, since
way past quarter to three (I said Hands Up!)
I'm good in the V.I.P. I got my hammer right here with me (I said Hands Up!)
You know when you party with
Three, Beanie Seigel:
Peep the kid from P-H-I-L-L-Y
North west south west south side
Spit it for them bitches and niggas who stay fly
B-Mack, Roc-a-fella
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