Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 3 AM, artist - Andre Nickatina. Date of issue: 10.08.2009
Song language: English
3 AM |
| Brave like an indian the Mohican of his last |
| No money weed or ass baby no backstage pass |
| We rondezvous, I’m flippin on my kenneth cole shoes |
| And some bitches talk too much I’m letten them bitches spread the news |
| Like channel 4 |
| Why gangsta niggas love to snort blow? |
| Chewy is the god down here in the 'Moe pina colada |
| The set done got hotter than a sauna |
| We break 'em like a puzzle then we gather like pirhanna |
| I keep my money by my nuts |
| Dip through the cuts we don’t front we at the front and we roll big blunts |
| Layin pagans down |
| Just like a bearskin rug |
| Goin deep into the depths just like a Russian navy sub |
| On course, rollin with the front lights off… I can smell the gunpowder |
| Bullets dipped in the sauce |
| Some jokers floss |
| Yeah, but is the impression they’ve adapted |
| My steel declare’ll spark the flare |
| The or the plastic |
| Burning rubber |
| Doin doughnuts that the pigs just couldn’t eat |
| They brought the coffee and the cream but all they saw was tire streaks |
| I’m on the streets |
| I can feel my mother worry in her sleep |
| It’s 3 a. |
| m |
| I’m with Sun Kim and we smokin to the beat |
| It’s Nickatina… |
| Meow Meow Meow Meow |
| Meow Meow Meow Meow… |
| I be a suitor, a freeway drivin bay bridge commutor |
| My roll of decks in full effects has turned into a computer |
| We got weed, but cheese out all the snitches |
| We want the money and the women |
| You can keep them scandelous bitches… for ya self |
| I make ya put ya mic up on tha shelf, broke ass hoes they want new cothes |
| Be axin niggas for help, but I can’t hear em' but I can hear a needle |
| Drop on top a pillow |
| When a clucker fiend here go a sceme, a piece of yellow skittle, a tin shot |
| Follow me as I parade around the block, blowin wind like a tornado |
| Dirchargin' like a Glock, steel plated, I usually get an X when I’m rated |
| Them sucka MC’s Them wannabees, they talk when only faded, like the blunt. |
| that once was plump then burned to ashes |
| I garuntee my third degree is just like twenty lashes, on ya face |
| I’ll one hundred percent represent my race. |
| while them bastards blast that rock |
| n' roll, my niggas crank the bass for tha chamillion |
| The F finger answer all ya questions, my pitbull alliance no doubt |
| My only cure is protection stutter steppin |
| My killer cross ain’t false it’s been perfected |
| Baby ya got nice clothes, but I’ve come to see ya nekked |
| Like it’s ya birthday, like a fiend would say |
| When they broke and they on the rock |
| Your conbination has been invaded, your safe has been unlocked |
| It’s Nickatina |
| Baby just pull ya panties down, all that other shit is um… irrelivant |
| Meow Meow Meow Meow |
| Let me hear that |
| Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow Meow |
| Three Oh clock in the morning… |