Lyrics:
Telephone call like
Blowing up your phone like
Knocking at your door like
Breaking down the door like
Hit you in the moonlight
I know you want me
driving a Trolley
Roll on da track like I’m driving a Trolley
These niggas rap but flow on a Track like dey drivin a jonny
If I get my foot in the door just
know how shit travel, word of mouth, have them kick-in boys all in my house
Knockin' down my glass door, tryin' to rip up my marble floor
But ain't
are justified by the means
When Jack's on the scene
Track the movement, don't lose it
Cause if he come through the back, he attacks
Crack, cocaine,
you'll still see me
I go forward, right by three, three, three
I'm Jamie, don't watch J-M-E
I do what I want, I'm free, free, free
Wiley's my bredrin, he's
Prince of the ghetto
Ny3 kwaami ny3 shaami
K3 moko lu3 ny3 tsaami
K3 noko hu3 ny3 kaami
Gamashi eba shiamli
Hol' it down for the Ga tribe aka kpata ny3
tracks
He grabbed her by the hair, she broke his jaw it cracked
More cops arrived, they both bloodied down by the five
Wildest niggas just smilin'
On the banks of the river by the railroad track
And we kept chickens in a pen in the back and everybody said we was po' folks
My daddy was a farmer but all he
Twins (repeat 3x)]
Fuck that one
I got my Nina gun pistol!
Down on they brain
[Verse 2: D-Roc]
I make you want to pop that thing girl when the bass
Twins (repeat 3x)]
Fuck that one
I got my Nina gun pistol!
Down on they brain
[Verse 2: D-Roc]
I make you want to pop that thing girl when the bass
somewhere that we could never go
No tracks by the rov from apolo
The landers scotch tape, foil, and poles
The earth should look bigger than the moon in its
the dough
All you got is three niggas kicking at your door, ha ha
Here come the paramedics, here come the paramedics
It goes one for the ghetto, two
Prada, count up nigga
1,2,3,4,5
All my bloods, they survive
And I'm a Samurai for the calls
I might be bad like a boss
I might end up down with my click
that was back then, now look where we at
Straight to VIP, my niggaz, man we deep
You gonna go by 2 or 3
Before you get to me
The bitch, and she a G
Yo, why can't I ignore The things I've never seen but known as happened before
My mind's trapped in a lore but I'm always asking for more
Three
marching down to the ground
To get out of the rain, boom! Boom! Boom!
The ants go marching three by three, hurrah, hurrah
The ants go marching three by
I'm saying, the vet, not the pet
Dig this here man
Like my nigga Cashball, you know what I'm saying, me and DeAnte say
Man, it's "stacks, tracks
I wasn’t black, I didn’t grow up poor
So up yours
Up doors and knock down doors ’til
I get three downed doors
3 Doors Down, "Kryptonite"
Shit, you
value him it's most upfront in
Songs like 2013's "Lil Nigga Snupe
" a chilling track inspired by
The murder of the
18-year-old Louisiana rapper
Lil Snupe,
to the train
When I heard a female
That was calling my name
She said Cayne
I watched her run down the street
So I stopped in my tracks
Cause I'm down to meet
She
saucing, beat the track like I'm judo choppin'
I'm bustin' down the door
Imma bout to go to war
I ain't done this thing before
I'm taking off, imma soar
5 PM sunny side, walking down the BLVD
Knocking on the door, we called but KS always makes it hard
Like we said link at four but of course he ain't
was born and fucking raise there
Yeah
Nobody know by the name boi RJaY
On the track
Never left this game bitch right
Everybody thinks I was long gone
and bring it down to the rented
By now, it's a little past five
And I'm still trying to roll, could barely open my eyes
Next thing I know, she giving me
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