Lyrics:
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
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
(Yeah, keep tryin' me)
I'm still the type to gon' and slap the fucking shit outta you bro!
3rd quarter drop so tell yo' niggas I'm comin' with it
And this
many see
At the job or in the street
Burn flow like 3rd degree
I know they plotting and scheming
Cause they wanna murdah me
Loving this life
That's the way to be
Burn a couple of niggas
Ain't no 3rd degree
You Talking too much homie
Say less
I ain't built off no damn stress
Imma
Heard Of Me
These Niggas The First To Swear They Hot But Nigga We Been On 3rd Degree
Aint No Chance Of Holding Me
What’s They Score Like O For 3
He
trick
I took 2 losses
This the 3rd time
I start throwing round rocks
I could brush
Ain't no use in the flossin
Competing with bosses
I'm the prince of my
my content to leave no blank space (Wooh)
In my thoughts, in my rhymes, in my words
You can spray bad bars I'll spray worse
You might catch some 3rd
on the microphone
I'm scoping 3rd eye strobing mind open sweat streaming
Flesh gleaming best feeling high energy peaking deep meanings
Freak when I see things like
don kyou de doko don koubi suru nihon tou ni
From 3rd street to 4th streeth, from main street to the carnal desires,
Pack up the duties left
blunts, no 3rd Degree
It's M.O.B. 'til I R.I.P.
Already
I'm on my G
Come to my city, better pay the fee
Don't fuck with me
I'm bipolar
Bite my style, I
Feel your big toe - 2nd toe - 3rd toe, 4th toe, little toe.
Feel after.
Move your attention to your left hand. Move the fingers of your left hand 1 by
No 3rd degree
A bunch of Planktons tryna steal my secret recipe
'Cause I'm that DJ that throws a party on sesame street
Don't come to my turf, thinking
speak fact
That's just who I am
Kill you in the 3rd degree
I'm just giving you a few
Minutes of poetry
I'm just giving you a few
Minutes of poetry
I'm
wishing big, timmy turner
said i can't buy a queen i gotta earn her
nigga you touchin me, 3rd degree murder(STOP)
genuinely concerning
it's really a burden,
the shallow end
Yea I'm fucken out of it
Pop them like klonopin
Get so bored with normal life
Yea you can keep the shallow end
Murderous
Murder me
In the 3rd
You not dealing with kids
You ffff with real gangsta
Don't mess unless
You want to suffer the consequences
Don't make me catch 3rd degree
I don't want
Wooo
4Laa
Its Man$on nigga Gusto
Pak Life A.N.T
3rd Fanga Music
Aye this shit just
Just to make yall feel good
Manson
Check me out though
Turn this
where death is, where no more breath is and
3rd graders learn how to leave you chestless
Where god is dissed, dismissed and distant and far
From
the 3rd degree
Ain't afraid to admit it, cause I seen niggas worse than me
Who am I to judge a man when I'm a man myself
In the dark, trying to get me
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
not lose and if you thought
I will settle for anything less than homie
I got news to the 3rd degree
NC's in a state of emergency
(Yes, yes, get it
Two hours later back in the hood slangin' dope
'Cause its an everyday thang where I hang at
3rd Ward Calliope projects I thought I name dat
Where
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
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