ice - og 3three lyrics
[intro]
might be in milwaukee chasing bands in the snow n-gga
yeah, three
[chorus]
climb to the top of the pint of the seal
my n-ggas we chasing bags for real
f-ck one bag, we need a mill
my n-ggas we all need a deal, gang
shoot to the top just like rocket
nothing but hundreds in my pocket
i’m like whoa kemosabe
i’m like f-ck ’bout what you hollerin’, gang
[verse 1]
call for the pack you know i send it
we wrap it up and then remix it
my n-ggas we stuck up in the trenches
you know that gang forever getting it, gang
my n-ggas we holdin’ it down for real
we balling hard with no deal
ice on me but i can’t chill
i’m screaming f-ck how n-gga feel, gang
they want me to flock but i can’t go
i keep hitters on the road
i got that bag, yeah that’s for sure
you play, you gon’ die, thats a must that you know, gang
[chorus]
climb to the top of the pint of the seal
my n-ggas we chasing bags for real
f-ck one bag, we need a mill
my n-ggas we all need a deal, gang
shoot to the top just like rocket
nothing but hundreds in my pocket
i’m like whoa kemosabe
i’m like f-ck ’bout what you hollerin’, gang
[verse 2]
these hundreds will make you dance
these hunnids ain’t come from france
these hundreds will make you do it
these hundreds all in bands
plus i’m on that fluid, shout out to my mans
we running them bands, i’m working my hand
going kirko with the bands
fell out with my last, sh-t what to do
ain’t have no f-cking option, so i gotta send my crew
i worked my wrist and stood in, all the pots too
i was a crack baby, a trench baby, ooh
sh-t what to do, i’m stuck up in the trenches
i told the b-tch it’s game time, like it’s fourth and inches
make the b-tch catch the sideline if she ain’t wit it
ask the b-tch where your game face ho, why you ain’t gettin’ it?
[chorus]
climb to the top of the pint of the seal
my n-ggas we chasing bags for real
f-ck one bag, we need a mill
my n-ggas we all need a deal, gang
shoot to the top just like rocket
nothing but hundreds in my pocket
i’m like whoa kemosabe
i’m like f-ck ’bout what you hollerin’, gang
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