Lyrics My 3 Sons - Chris Rivers, Young Dirty Bastard

My 3 Sons

Ain’t rockin' Moccasins
Hoppin' in lava Timbs just to stomp you in
Hotter than the round their house with no oxygen
Clockin' in, pocketin' knowledge and all the complements
Pay homage to the gods like 'Pac, Nas and the god Rakim
The list goes on but it’s hard to say top five
So you tryna stay humble but you realize your time’s arrived
The clock decides, hip hop’s been the prophet of finest rhymes
For many lines, and now if I said to me Chris is mine
You can’t rewind, yeah the future is here now
Once feared now I’m revered for this near perfect and clear sound
That’s pretty vain
I’m not cocky just feel the pain of a thousand whack rappers
Everyday of this game contagious just lay the lames
Yeah, hell suffer of my mighty rap
These line’ll let you fight with the Aftermath of the lightin' flashy’s cutting
glass
Comparin' my silent and devils to dragon God of rap
Like Tom I’ll be here forever
«MC's in this place to be»
«Burnin', burnin' hot!»
«The Tyson of sound, it’s twenty seconds to a round»
«MC's in this place to be»
«Burnin', burnin' hot!»
«The Tyson of sound, it’s twenty seconds to a round»
Well it seems to be hard for you niggas
It’s those three sons killin' off all your wishes
Young Dirty and Chris Rivers, just know I’m rockin' with you
E3, it’s that hard hittin' Compton nigga
Keep your eyes open, hand on the prize
E3, I’m on the hunt and on the rise
Grown man, I’m out to get it but don’t be surprised
If our pops was here we’ll be on, but some don’t realize
OG kush do wonders, it enhance my sight
My eyes on the money green instead of white
Got to get it while the time is right
And if you go against the grain then you die tonight
And there ain’t no escapin', there ain’t no hidin'
Why must he be a violent?
He’s so violent
Put pressure on the pistol, if you jump niggas try
I ain’t lie, we are no real gangstas move in silence
Straight
The best rapper just arrived
Here’s advice and it’ll legitimize your eyes
I got a hundred notepads, no lie
Mic check one, two, one, three (Young Dirty Bastard)
I’m the rapper that’d make a Christian’s head spin
Don’t need the devil to perform excellent
I reverse the AIDS virus with this medicine
Scientists creatin' false accusations, false evidence
I am the truth, dun-dun-der-dun!
I am the truth, the X marks the booth
I piss on a mic, the next rapper up
Lil' Wayne kisses the mic
I guess you’re not tongue kissin' Baby tonight
These rappers pay for fuckin' radio spots
Here’s a free listen, nigga I come and never stop
These unsung artists are undeveloped sperm out my cock
I’ll abort your ass nigga
I’ll abort your ass, real fast
Young Dirty Bastard!