Lyrics:
thing
I hate the law for what they done did they broke in niggas cribs
Wish I woulda caught 'em I'dda split they fuckin' wig
3rd Ward let me claim my
Mercy Me, I'm on fire touch me
And get burned to the 3rd degree
Servin' fiends, out the drive-thru
When I used to work at the
Burger King, now watch how
I
3rd degree
Turn to sky to burgundy
Raining down with burglary
Hanging from suspensions like the overalls on Urcles' knees
Now we tagged in mentions
down like that
Stunt up on me
You get the 3rd degree
Straight burned by a wolf like me
Turn me into a tyrant
Go on and test me
Blazin' fast when unruly
gonna say
They better not fuck with me
No explanation please
It's Tara Lee
I'm giving you 3rd degree
I'm with that fuckery
Bitch please
I might just
with me
How can you not love khris
Until u bring that 3rd degree
Damn you on third degree
Book smart and you in these streets
How can they not respect
said, boy
In the year 2000, it's all about Wayne
It's your throne, man, run that thing
17th ward to tha 3rd ward downtown
Do that there
The old me is dead
The new me ain't willing to die
Resurrected my concious
The zombie been feindin 3rd eyes
Just to see thru the soul
Of those needing
that 3rd degree, it's absurd to me
They try to make fun of just what I prefer to be
This ain’t thug life but the Pac in me
No drugs, no love, no stopping
crazy bitch so don't tempt me
Gon fuck around and convince me
To make a bitch hit his knees
And burn his ass with that 3rd degree
Ima demon bitch
I'm
Remedy uh
It was healing me uh
You were hurting me uh
Burning me to the 3rd degree
To be honest
I'm well polished
With all love
Look at what I
it mr Clean
I'm gotem lock in dope fiend
I shoot first I'm misses purgery
I'm spitting facts call me 3rd degree
Cause they claiming I'm Spitting
kinda hard
Emotions had to toss
Mama raised a Boss
Hustler from the start
Tried to put us out
Got a 3rd job
Trappin played my part
Even tried to rob
I
words like Ron Burgandy
Give these beats the 3rd degree
It occurs that musics just a church to me
And I'm losin Faith
And I'm losin Faith
And I'm losin
the street
My friend, poor Cherokee Louise
Ever since we turned 13
It's like a minefield
Walking to the door
Going out to get your 3rd degree
And comin' in
Break me off proper, gun in that doctor
Gats at yo head, call me Mr. Non-stopper
Tech 9 shooter, lady, ruder
Down South hustla, West Coast ruler
3rd
soldier till I die
We run this place, and I say the same shit, with a gun up in my face
I ain't scared to die, bitch like I said before, ho
3rd Ward, I'm
Uh, Yeah
Ridding through the 3rd
With my niggas
Ridding dirty sipping dirty too
Tell me what’s the word
I'm a winner
Ain’t no competition nigga skrt,
to the mainey for that curry stick
Niggas got bold hopped on past 3rd
Bounced on real gangsta whipped out them niggas nerds
Niggas been bitches been suckas since
I wasn't rich or poor
Niggas be slick
Thinking they plug hunting
Tryna Richard porter
3rd person
Serving dese niggas
Man go see him
To place a order
how mixing these proverbs, words in reach
Make every verb fit perfectly
I had to get the right angle to furnace
Need 87 burned, so I hit em at a 3rd
idolize me that ain't never grew w me
Doohicky Can't get a lie pass my 3rd eye
Get A job
Job for what i rule the underworld guy
I ain't rappin everyday so
Break me off proper, gun in that doctor
Gats at yo head, call me Mr. Non-stopper
Tech 9 shooter, lady, ruder
Down South hustla, West Coast ruler
3rd
silence make it happen
My niggaz, get smoked out high niggaz Branded up down to ride, for G.I. niggaz
We ain't gangstas, but demand respect
Ay yo let's
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