Rick Ross, Dr. Dre, JAY-Z - 3 Kings lyrics

William Roberts II

[Rick Ross, Dr. Dre, JAY-Z - 3 Kings lyrics]

Geah classic hip hop shit
Dr d-R-E rozay and Jay
Let's get 'em!

We started out mopping floors
And now we front row at the awards
Number one for the last twenty years
If you real, mothafucka scream cheers!
Mothafucka scream cheers!
Heh, and it is what it is
He wanted to shine at the swap meet
Till the white boys got him in that hot seat
I only love it when her hair long
You should listen to this
Beat through my headphones
Money long, number one twenty years strong
Fuck a gym, I am him, andre Young
G5s to 6-4s, Dre got 'em
If the bitch bad, I got her in red bottoms
Great weed, nice homes, bread proper
Tec nine, one chamber, top shotta
Bentley coupe, new yacht, my helicopter
Born broke, real nigga
Straight outta Compton
The fuck you magazine niggas want from me?
I rewrote the game, nigga, now talk money
All-black, on my Al Capone shit
I built a house, nigga, get your own shit
I only love it when her hair long
You should listen to this
Beat through my headphones

See y'all niggas
Hit the switches on that shit one time ugh
Let the top down

I came a long way from the weed game
Twenty stack seats at the Heat game (Woo)
And I'm still strapped with the heat man
(Ugh)
Can't be steppin' on a nigga feet man (Hah)
80 pair of sneakers came from the D game
Cousin was a Crip, said it was a C thing
Brown bag money in a duffle bag
Fuck 'em all, wet 'em
Then we gotta double back
The homie whippin' chickens in
His momma kitchen on the mission
Said he get it for his son tuition (Ugh)
Real nigga's dreams comin' to fruition
Stumble, but I never fall
Leanin' on my pistol (Woo)
I only love it when her ass fat
We should listen to this track in my Maybach
(Maybach Music)
I'm just tryin' to be a billionaire
Come and suck a dick for a millionaire (Ugh)

Ugh it's just different
I know it feels different ugh

I only love her if her eyes brown
Play this shit while you play
Around with my crown
King H-O, y'all should know by now
But if you don't know, ugh
Millions on the wall in all my rooms
Niggas couldn't fuck with my daughter's room
Niggas couldn't walk in my daughter's socks
Banksy, bitches, Basquiat
I ran through that buck fifty
Live Nation fronted me
They workin' on another deal
They talkin' two hundred-fifty!
I'm holdin' out for three
Two-seventy-five and I just might agree
Ex-D-boy, used to park my Beamer
Now look at me, I can park in my own arena
I only love her if her weave new
I'm still a hood nigga
What you want me to do?
Been hoppin' out the BM with your BM
Taking her places that you can't
Go with your per diem
Screamin' "Carpe diem!" until I'm a dead poet
Robin Williams shit, I deserve
A Golden Globe, bitch!
I'll take a Ace in the meanwhile
You ain't gotta keep this, Khaled
It's just a freestyle
Fuck rap money, I've made more off grapes
Fuck show money, I spent that on drapes
Close the curtains, fuckboy, out my face
I whip the coke, let the lawyer beat the case
Murder was the case that they gave me
I killed the Hermès store, somebody save me
Stuntin' to the max like, wavy! Oh, shit!
Oh, stuntin' to the max, I'm so wavy
Used to shop at TJ Maxx back in '83
I don't even know if it was open then
I ain't know Oprah then
Had the XL 80 bike, loud motor, they be like
"Damn!" when I'm comin' through, rrraaanngg
Had the grill in '88, y'all niggas is late
You got all that, right?
Ugh! I love this shit like my own daughter
Spray these niggas, baby
Just like daddy taught ya

Young it's just different

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