3 gram backwood - icebirds, bando & 44 oakboy lyrics
[intro: 44 oakboy]
this a shawty another exclusive, n*gga
let’s go
[verse: 44 oakboy]
choppa spit jus like a fan
jus knocked her down, couldn’t be her man
too much smoke off in the room, you might get high off second hand
that lil’ b*tch, she got a tan
can’t get this drip, it came from france
takin’ trips jus me and ben
i’m overseas, gon’ in the wind
don’t worry ‘bout me, bit’, mind your business
off the lean, don’t sip no henny
couldn’t cuff the b*tch, so i jus hit it
can’t trust these b*tch and these n*ggas
stay wit’ 3 grams, i don’t do the swishers
chop up a brick, might f*ck on your sister
count it up quick like i’m on a mission
play wit’ her heart, that wasn’t my intentions
the money is comin’ my hands is itchin’
didn’t go to school but thumb through tuitions
can’t be my b*tch, ‘less you independent
slide wit’ the stick, can’t get caught slippin’
slide on your block, light it up and i’m dippin’
send me the address and you know that we shippin’ it
came up from nothin’, i’m steppin’ in fendi
no need to talk, i shot ‘til it empty
[verse 2: icebirds]
aye, don’t do no talkin’, the racks, we got plenty
shot a hunnid’ round ‘til it’s empty
feelin’ like wayne, gotta keep it a milli’
word around town, i’m the man in the city
n*ggas start cappin’ and sh*t and we on that
pull up wit’ stick, i’m bringin’ that sh*t to your doormat
n*ggas start runnin’ and sh*t, that’s a four flat
we the one started this sh*t and they know that
hop out and sn*tch up that boy, it’s no kodak
the bands all in my pockets can’t fit
smokin’ on gas, i got sh*t on my mental
me and bando runnin’ plays out the sprinter
you forever losin’, i’m always a winner
d*mn, i gotta run up the digits
whoa, big bags of strong and you smokin’ on midget
3 grams in the ‘wood and it got me litty
aye, these n*ggas wanna fit in but they can’t
we cannot talk unless you talkin’ ‘bout bank
you cannot hit this backwood right here, it’s some dank
choppa hit ‘em, turn that boy into plank
[verse 3: bando supreme & icebirds]
walk wit’ bruiser like i’m a cripple
you only get money ‘cause you work in the middle
the 2*3 ain’t come wit’ a pistol
i give her the bone, she ate up the gristle, yeah (aye)
[?] like kodak (kodak)
i get money, you know that (you know that)
money is old like a throwback
[?]
frog eye tear up the street when i leave (vroom)
brand new whip wit’ no keys
bad b*tch, do as i please
long hair came wit’ no weave
f*ck the b*tch then i’ma leave (i’ma leave)
no you can’t be on my team
money stay strapped to my jeans
ain’t no way you can compete
[verse 4: 44 oakboy & icebirds]
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