ynw melly, jit4 stan & ynw4l - 3 pointer lyrics
[intro: jit4 stan]
yeah, but it’s 4 a.m
you really wanna grab anyone
(trill, where the f+ck you at?) uh
[chorus: jit4 stan]
we got arps and .223s, let me know what you want
n+ggas play with me, they get to see who die behind that phone
grab a glock and add the box and wear all black, create headstones
i can be at the studio and i’ll still’ll get you gone
they just one call away, i love the bros, i know they ain’t gon’ play
i took the harder way, no nine+to+five, i hit l!cks every day
g hit me up, tell me what you need, i’m on the interstate
i finger f+ck, screamin’, “what the f+ck?” d+mn, i miss the drac’
i gotta chill, i heard the feds out, them people watchin’ me
i catch a lo’, foe, i’ma air it out, up the score for the team
can’t even pulled up in the hood, they puttin’ cameras in fourteen
police raid the house, we get the ’vette, the denim people green
[verse 1: jit4 stan]
how you n+ggas be like thirty? so many scared of me
these n+ggas p+ssy, how you go up in that car, don’t get your mans? you n+ggas rookies
i could really teach you somethin’, get on feet, hop out with fully
we really bta the opps, you could that tell we the bullies
i swear that store be ghost town, n+ggas say they be outside
walk around with thirty, i’m not by myself, i’m with the guys
heard some n+ggas screamin’, “b,” this one come and set a fire
i’m steady screamin’, “free lil smack” and all my smackers certified
ayy, lil’ youngin, where you from? you better throw it up with pride
i tell you no lie, yeah, i got a smacker with one eye
mr. eye, i know, he the one that introduced me to a switch
no time for hoes, me and bronem never trippin’ ’bout no b+tch
what’s your favorite gun? a test, yeah, you know i love the glizzy
i asked him why he sent [?], yeah, you ain’t gotta fiend, f+ck that b+tch
they gotta die, i’m a demon, n+ggas know what time it is
why you wanna beef with 4? n+gga, you know
[chorus: jit4 stan]
we got arps and .223s, let me know what you want
n+ggas play with me, they get to see who die behind that phone
grab a glock and add the box and wear all black, create headstones
i can be at the studio and i’ll still’ll get you gone
they just one call away, i love the bros, i know they ain’t gon’ play
i took the harder way, no nine+to+five, i hit l!cks every day
g hit me up, tell me what you need, i’m on the interstate
i finger f+ck, screamin’, “what the f+ck?” d+mn, i miss the drac’
i gotta chill, i heard the feds out, them people watchin’ me
i catch a lo’, foe, i’ma air it out, up the score for the team
can’t even pulled up in the hood, they puttin’ cameras in fourteen
police raid the house, we get the ‘vette, the denim people green
[verse 2: lil poppa]
i keep agreein’ that i can’t live without it, go check the score
you can keep all the fake love ’cause i don’t want it anymore
way better than before, it’s like my heart and mind at war
i won’t be hard to find
say, once you walk out that front door, so your love was never mine
right now i’m finna go on tour
and you better not try or my mans jumpin’ out the floor
try to keep my life proud, they love me ’cause i ain’t show it
but cash rules everything around the ones i love
gotta be a more righteous way of livin’
sh+t’ll be fine, it’s finna be healthy in a minute
i just need a peace of mind and my iron, stand on business
and roger in his prime, show the world what they been missin’
what they missin’ probably, so how you gonna try to go and get it?
[chorus: jit4 stan]
we got arps and .223s, let me know what you want
n+ggas play with me, they get to see who die behind that phone
grab a glock and add the box and wear all black, create headstones
i can be at the studio and i’ll still’ll get you gone
they just one call away, i love the bros, i know they ain’t gon’ play
i took the harder way, no nine+to+five, i hit l!cks every day
g hit me up, tell me what you need, i’m on the interstate
i finger f+ck, screamin’, “what the f+ck?” d+mn, i miss the drac’
i gotta chill, i heard the feds out, them people watchin’ me
i catch a lo’, foe, i’ma air it out, up the score for the team
can’t even pulled up in the hood, they puttin’ cameras in fourteen
police raid the house, we get the ‘vette, the denim people green
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