3 Stripe Life
Lyrics
(Damn, Machu
Why'd you have to do 'em like that?)
Yeah, like I'm Clint Capela
I'll slam on yo, like I'm, huh
I'll slam on yo bitch like I'm Clint Capela
Clingy with the Glock, yeah
I'll take that bitch wherever
I ain't cuffing, you ain't Cinderella
Let a bitch pick whatever then
She put this dick together
Mister Punch God in this bitch
Ain't shit to switch the weather
I got a CPN with the
I could get whips forever
Feel like Pootie Tang, BB simon, bitch
I whip whoever
I hope yo granny far from the crib
This bitch'll hit whoever
Politicking in some BAPE
I know y'all sick y'all shrimp together
Keep the chop but I got the cutter
I'll switch to Zelda
Lil' bro like Machu with the hit's
He'll split yo weave
Gang and 'em some dogs, if I tell 'em
They'll sick yo kid
These exquisite-ass lamb chops
I ain't get no ribs
Ain't no 233, this five-seven out the big FN
Three stripe life, jogging pants off the 700s
Fuck a nine-to-five
Made ten by like 7 something
Running off on gang? yeah, okay
He know Heaven coming
My Caucasian shooting, yeah
I think he JJ Redick cousin
I need a hunnid cards
To touchdown expeditiously
We'll have his shit rocking and
Paint him like Xzibit team
Even the lil' me'll shit
On you like literally
You ain't ShittyBoyz if you ain't
Memorize them BINs with me
Looking in the mirror like, shit
He look like him to me
We'll flip the whole party 'round
Y'all like a gymnast team
High as hell, head spinning
Stan had to pick the beat
Dynamic duo like every time he trip, I tweak
High Tech in the deja blue
Turned the water red
How you think you finna fuck my
Bitch on a water bed?
Threw a prosthetic in the chop
It got a arm and leg
Niggas swear the sauce burnt out
But it's far from dead
Spark his head, if it's up, hit him up top
I can talk shit, dog shit
'cause I touch guap
Whether it's hibachi or the block
We can up chop
Yeah, and I'm yelling ShittyBoyz
Till my lungs stop
I don't see a muscle when I
Flex but I still act cocky
Smacking-ass drunker than a bitch
Told him lamb chop me
Bougie lil' piggy eating bitch
Wanna add broccoli?
If that bitch ain't on me
I bet my hands got me
Hmm, and yo bitch ass sloppy
Tryna add me up? Buddy boy
Must have a math hobby
I'ma jump in every one
You can't get a bag by me
Amiri jeans X Versace drawers
You can't sag like me
They let the wrong fucker
Get some money, man, i swear to God
On the West flashing out the
Window at like every stop
He wanted i11, LOL, he got eleven rocks
Heard yo bitch loyal, bucko, LOL
Go tell my socks
Blew off, newest GT with the roof off
Eww, you soft
Forty bitches but it's two Lofts
Ice on the buffs
Had 'em wishing that they threw salt
If I zoom off, I'm off the Runtz, bitch
Watch me zoot off unky crazy than a bitch
He talk to dawg like Stewie Griffin
Uh, you fuck that bitch? I
Know yo doonies itching
Fuck pulling over, fuck 12, bitch
We too resistant sometimes in life, yeah
You gotta make a you decision
Copyright(s): Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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