Lyrics:
the house
And you gon' have to pay me homie, I'm not leavin' this couch
Baby it's cold outside, we just sittin' by the fire
While the little duns is playing
around my nigga
In high school you always held me down my nigga
Im thankful to see Thirty - three years of life
Im proud my brother Ant just had twins with
Yeah yeah
Radical Chris again
Lord you changed my story
Yeah eem eem
They said I would never live to see thirty-three, hmm
But look at me
So many
as a street thug
At age sixteen I started sellin' cheap drugs
Ecstasy will cost you three
A year later I robbed a dope house and stole a ki
Thirty-six is
DMC, we have a mid-thirties male found down, unresponsive
Possible overdose, substance unknown
Pulse is 60 and thready, respiration's eight
He's
At this rate I'll be belly up by the time I'm thirty-three
They will do the autopsy, but it was jealousy
You can donate my my organs to someone else
moments
Broke in money
3 scars on my face
But that shit don’t makes me Tony
I rather not think about it
Rather join this crowd
My mind is way too crowded
I'm on lonely street age nearly three
Recently Mama's crying all the time
Is it because of me or my younger sister,
Even Dad was weeping when he
Yeah
Migos
First kicked the door when I was seventeen years old (seventeen, woo)
Seen my first fifty, ballin', eighteen years old (eighteen,
(three), two (two), one (one)
MCA, Adrock, Mike D, that's how we get it done
Like ladies and gents, attention
Nas in the house with Beastie Boys
We can
house
We took everything
Put some raid on them roaches
He sprayed everything
The other homie got caught Up in a drug raid
The whole spot full of cops
When
the trip twice the second just wasn't laxed
The homies peeped a garage with thirty birds in the back
Doubled back
Then we talked about the house we was
could go back, who knows what he would've done
If I gave him thirty quid for petrol so he wouldn't feel the need to run?
Maybe if someone did that, we'd
By my will we'll take what we need
Even daughters bound and gagged
Ears parted with heads
Splinters of wood in throats of old men
Burn houses
I'm on lonely street age nearly three
Recently Mama's crying all the time
Is it because of me or my younger sister,
Even Dad was weeping when he
fucked me up, the hater side was the most crowded
I don't claim clicka, but I do be around it
And when I leave the house, I don't never leave without it
I
it up by ounce
The feds watchin' this bitch
Oh lord it's three strikes and I'm out
I'm gone
What's your body count nigga?
I'm double digits
thirty years but he sleep with these hoes
Spending all this money, going out to eat
M.O.B. man, money over bitches
These niggas say they real, but they
three years.
Seems like thirty, seems like thirty.
See my eyes, I can hardly see.
See me stand, I can hardly walk.
I believe you can make me whole.
for a watch?
Five fifty for a ounce a kush, three fifty for a pair of jeans
And thirty thousand for a Charger
(Take it all, you need me)
Two hundred for
wanted to puke after a crazy party with a few of his best mates too/
Chorus:
Verse 3:
After about a year or two came his daughter Sue/
Jason was happy
out of time
If you wanna be successful then be careful what you get surrounded by
I keep going out my mind
Trying to beat out the lies
But I'm crowded
This old town is filled with sin
It will swallow you in
If you've got some money to burn
Take it home right away
You've got three years to pay
When I was almost eight years old
How was I s’posed to know
That little boy in corduroy
Was just about to grow
To a man like me
At the count of three
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