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letra de intro (who harder than me 3) - ar-ab

[intro]
who harder than me 3
obh [?]
got to earn this

[verse]
og getting smoked by the ounces
whole ki getting broke down to ounces
was in the trap house sleeping on couches
now i talk investments with my accountant
how we make it this far with no cosign?
how he get caught with a brick and did no time?
i made 80 off of sour back in ‘09
we turned [?] house to a goldmine
me and [?] wrote raps, we used to battle n-ggas
now we watch n-ggas scream when the ladder hit him
got tired of seeing mom cry, i had to get it
i make a model b-tch crawl like a caterpillar
drunk at 4, fell asleep at the stop sign
only crackheads bling on my hotline
i’ll beef with whoever long as i have mine
k!ll kids?, i don’t give a f-ck if it’s not mine
pip, my n-gga [?], he used to cut loose
that n-gga jumped off a roof off of dust juice
my brother, lik, he’s get his off the muscle
just know my hand on gun if i don’t trust you
you n-ggas worship money, can’t take it with you
a broke n-gga have your girl sending naked pictures
.22, .45, it don’t make a difference
just know i’m going for your head if i come to get ya
these motherf-ckers trying to question my integrity
i bet the scale says a hundred if you measure me
this dope money got my pockets on heavy d
and that p-ssy says he’s cool, and he better be
i inherited the block, it was left to me
trying not to let the streets get the best of me
i’ll make my shooter be the last thing you ever see
all i do is get a signal like a referee
my dad went to work and smoked in the back room
murda had the k with the half moon
[?] turned his kitchen to a classroom
cops kick the door, we emmitt smith to the bathroom
i remember when i used to work for [?]
his tables turned, now i’m giving work to [?]
i had one job, i ain’t work a month
on a mission f-cking b-tches, i was curving them
the root of all evil was being broke
you got more, he kicked your door and he your folk
his own girl set him up and he ain’t know
his own blood took his life for a ki of coke
i should put insurance on my glass pot
twenty pounds of weed in the glad lock
i’m making pickups on my trap block
the cops ran down on me on my last stop
they say it’s money on my head, i still sleep great
why would i starve while these b-tch n-ggas eat steak?
if i pay for four, i want to see eight
she on the block list if she make me wait
[outro]
who harder than me 3
enjoy the rest of the mixtape
i’m just going in on the whole mixtape
enjoy
king ab

- ar ab

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