Songtext Three Prodigy

Three

Yo dun we got guns in the grass

Its three at night

I'm about to take the last swallow of the EZus Jesus

Who got fifty on the next tree

We gotta stop at the store

We need D batteries for the theme music

Snatch the biscuits from out the lawn

Fuck a cab lets take cracked out Yolanda's Saab

We gave that bitch two wibbles

And skated off the a vehicle for that pillow

All outside the borough dun

What happened to Queens like Sutphin and 121

Farmers and 116th

The got us on the BQE

Just to get a taste of that greenery

We took our smoke out to Coney Island posted up by the Himalaya

Pina Colada Champales mixed with Dainey

That's St. Ides in dun lingo

Spillin it on the floor for our dead people

While I spark the sequel

My niggas got lungs

When we smoke that shit only go around once

Dogs we just killin time

Somebody just got they shit twist on the block fucking up the grind

So til it pipe down

We just going at the sluts

Bitch we wanna fuck right now

Cormega

Son I'm on a bench high eatin chicken wings and french fries

A crackhead fuck spent his last bucks on six dimes

I'm one gram from big time a spliff away from overdosin

My heart is broken my man started smokin again

P I heard the tunnel open again

I spoke to Flex he said he's gonna let both of us in

Its time to load up the autos and semis

I wish my nigga Spank was in the physical form of life

I got my uptown Nikes thugged out and icy

Mad deep

Jumpin out the cocaine white Jeep

Through with strugglin so I resume hustlin

Rap game or crack game my crew is still bubblin

Yo three in the morning and them Ds on the corner still

Seems we was born to kill

Yo P meet me on the hill

So we can jet through Queens in SUVs

And show these motherfuckers how we rep this thing

Ya know