3 Sports
3 Sports

Tee Grizzley - 3 Sports Lyrics

9

3 Sports Lyrics

Wayne, what up, though?
You know what time it is, let's get it

I get that one shit, sell it, throw the profit in the stash
Gotta toss me what I grab, they be coppin' it too fast
Run your mouth and you'll get caught, we ain't givin' out no pass
Extra clip with the glitch, that bitch empty out too fast
That kit you see me wearin', that bitch cost 1.5
Disrespect, that's expensive, it's gon' cost one of your guys (oh, they dead)
You think them lil' boys can fuck with us then you blind
Touch down, fifty Ps, shout out to Delta Airlines (touch down, nigga)
I'm ballin', if it's smoke, we gon' hoop (lace 'em up)
Niggas made some lil' noise, shit was flu, boy (shit was flu)
I can be constipated and still shit on you
And bitch suck it like I got somewhere to be because I do (hurry up)
She asked for a watch, I'm like, "Is it heroin or crack?"
Gotta be on some hard drug to think I'm doin' that
Your pockets the opposite of your bitch stomach, they flat
Brodie seventeen, he done stepped on more shit than a frat (baow)

Rappin' and trappin' and slidin', nigga, three sports (three)
Blowin' niggas out in these streets, who keepin' score? (keepin' score, man)
Don't compare your bitch to my bitch, your bitch a whore (don't do that)
Stop comparin' me to your nigga, that nigga poor (don't do that)
Rappin' and trappin' and slidin', nigga, three sports (all three)
Blowin' niggas out in these streets, who keepin' score? (Blow they ass out)
Soon as you done with that package, come get some more (come get it)
Soon as we get that from the plug, we goin' north, nigga (we out of here)

In your city, tryna plot on us, that's a waste of time (don't do it)
G7, we spank shit nationwide (all over)
Cut into the fiends, have some fuckin' manners, make a line (make a line, nigga)
Two things we don't waste, pape' and time (uh-uh)
And that grandmama you got (oh yeah), that keep a lot of money?
She was stuffin' for my granddaddy, she know about Kentucky
Feelin' lucky, let me go and, damn, let me stop speakin' (let me stop)
Almost fucked around incriminated my Chaldean (Chaldean mafia)
Take a whole brick (yeah), throw it in that mix (yeah)
Put my sauce on it, turn two of them to six (yeah)
Stalkin'-ass bitch that I only hit twice
Duffle bag full of yeahs and we only hit 'em twice, nigga (come get 'em)

Rappin' and trappin' and slidin', nigga, three sports (all three)
Blowin' niggas out in these streets, who keepin' score? (Blow they ass out)
Don't compare your bitch to my bitch, your bitch a whore (don't do that)
Stop comparin' me to your nigga, that nigga poor (don't do that)
Rappin' and trappin' and slidin', nigga, three sports (all three)
Blowin' niggas out in these streets, who keepin' score? (Keepin' score)
Soon as you done with that package, come get some more (get this shit)
Soon as we get that from the plug, we goin' north, nigga (fuckin' out of here, nigga)

Writer(s): Dwayne William Moore, Martin Rafeal McCurtis, Terry Sanchez Wallace
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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