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    The Prodigy / Lyrics

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    "Three" Lyrics

    The Prodigy feat. Cormega

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    [Prodigy and Cormega]
    For my G-pack niggas
    Right, right
    Shooting at cops nigga what
    For my G-pack niggas

    Fuck the police
    N.Y.P.D. - New York Pricks and Dicks
    They can't stop our floss
    Straight up (for you crackheaded bitches)

    For my A.M. niggas (for you crackheaded bitches)
    My Ante Meridian niggaz; what up dunn?
    Liqour store closed
    Hit the bootlegger, let's hit the bootlegger
    Straight up, yo

    Yo dunn, we got guns in the grass, it's three at night
    I'm about to take the last swallow of the Eases Jesus
    Who got fifty on the next tree, we gotta stop at the store
    We need D batteries for the theme music

    Snatch the biscuits from out the lawn
    Fuck a cab, lets take cracked-out Yolanda's Saab
    We gave that bitch two wibbles
    And skated off with her vehicle for that pillow

    All outside the borough, dunn what happened to Queens
    Like Supton(?) and 1-2-1, Farmers and 116th
    The got us on the be -Q-E, just to get a taste of that greenery
    We took our smoke out to Coney Island, posted up by the Himalaya

    Pina Colada champales mixed with Dani'
    That's St. Ide's in dunn lingo
    Spillin' it on the floor for our dead people
    While I spark the sequel shit; my niggaz got lungs

    When we smoke, that shit only go around once
    Dogs, we just killin' time
    Somebody just got they shit twisted on the block fuckin' up the grind
    So, 'til it pipe down

    We just going at these sluts - bitch, we want to fuck right now

    Son I'm on a bench high eatin' chicken wings and french fries
    A crackhead fuck spent his last bucks on six dimes
    I'm one gram from big time, a spliff away from overdosin'
    My heart is broken, my man started smokin' again

    P, I heard the tunnel open again
    I spoke to Flex he said he's gonna let both of us in
    It's time to load up the autos and semis
    I wish my niggas bank was in a physical form unlike

    I got my uptown nikes thugged out and icy
    Mad deep, jumpin' out the Cocaine white Jeep
    Through was strugglin', so I resume hustlin'
    Rap game or crack game my crew is still bubblin'

    Yo, three in the morning and the D's on the corna still
    Seems we were born to kill, yo P meet me on the hill
    So we can jet through Queens in SUV's
    Show these motherfuckers how we rep this thing, ya know?
    This song was submitted on February 24th, 2014 and last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Alan Maman, Albert Johnson, Cory Mckay.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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