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letra de 3 mins of death - lud foe

[intro]
you made this beat?
gang, gang
outwest 290 sh-t n-gg-
you know i’m rockin’ n-gg-
get your guns up, get your funds up
you on that opp sh-t, get mopstick b-tch!
aye, aye

[verse 1]
i’ll tell you one thing you shouldn’t did was diss me
i just left your b-tch and she already miss me
i just bought 1,000 red skullies, boy ain’t sh-t cheap
get d-ck sucked from your lil b-tch, she’s a big freak!
big rims on a big truck on a big street
big heat for these lil n-gg-s think they want beef
thick b-tch, stash a quarter brick in her b-ttcheek
your mama might get touched if a f-ck n-gg- touch me
i’m holding on these racks
i’m toting on this mac
you holding on that b-tch she’s a rat, ratatouille
canary yellow diamonds got me shining juicy fruity-fruity
we got 30 clips, 50 clips, shoot a movie-movie
hit the gucci store i walked out double g’d up
i feel like cago leek, these lil n-gg-s got me t’d up
you sneak diss, we catch you in the streets, better not freeze up
i give her knee pads so she don’t scr-pe her knees up
b-tch you thought i was done, hoe you thought i was finished
you f-cking with me, they shoulda told you i was a menace
i got a loaded sniper rifle, k!ll your -ss from a distance
i’m getting money, now these b-tches see i ball like the pistons’
n-gg- if you don’t want these problems better stay out my busines
i’m flexing on these broke hoes, call it ballet fitness
a hardhead make a soft -ss, he didn’t listen
i bought a chevy brougham, sat that b-tch on 6s
think i’m the gingerbread man, how i bake those cookies
they know that i’m a pro, yellow ferrari, it’s a banana boat
its not a joke, you will get smoked, like you was h-lla dope
i’m living lavish, i wasn’t living like this 2 years ago
you dramatic, sh-t get tragic we pull up with automatics
red tape on your block but don’t n-body know what happened
i wish a n-gg- try to rob me (rob me, f-ck n-gg-)
let a f-ck n-gg- try to rob me! (let a n-gg- rob me)
i’m an outwest n-gg-, that’s where i be on some hot sh-t
i can’t even conceal the glock cause its a mopstick
why this b-tch keep calling my phone? she on some thot sh-t
i remember i was selling blows on that block sh-t
think he the predator, i’m the janitor, get mopstick
i’ll f-cking get rid of her she was trying to hold me hostage
i’m two steps ahead of you boy
don’t think i’m scared of you boy
we’re lamping on your -ss if we can’t find you we’re k!lling your boys
i’m go in with the silencer like these n-gg-s, ain’t making no noise
my young n-gg-s some n-gg-s scavengers
like it’s christmas, we bringing out toys
i’ma “jimmy choo” walker, that b-tch a stalker i’m getting annoyed
we pull up and we leaving you dead, some you can never avoid
the bottom my shoes are red, christian loubatin boys
i got two b-tches up in my bed, one of ’em maybe be yours
we riding with .50s and macs
rolling off h-lla flatts
i f-cked her doggy style, nutted all over her back
they say i’m a problem child, i be murking them tracks
we tape a n-gg- up like a mummy and call it a wrap
i never worked a job, every night i slept in the trap
that b-tch is full of rats so every night i’m laying down traps
gang!

[outro]
no hooks, outwest 290 sh-t n-gg-
aye, ysn young street n-gg-
b-tch get your guns up, get your funds up
you on that opp sh-t, get mopstick b-tch!
straight gang sh-t, know how i’m rocking n-gg-

- lud foe

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