Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The 3 Lyrical Ps, artist - Sean Price. Date of issue: 07.08.2017
Song language: English
The 3 Lyrical Ps |
| Yeah, P! |
| (La musica de Harry Fraud) |
| I could tell by your beard you don’t love Allah |
| You got the Bryant Gumbel face |
| It go, waste removal, we dispose brothers |
| Embarrassing the family, Keyshia Cole mother |
| Man down, stand down, blam rounds |
| At bitch niggas thinking that me and my camp clowns |
| Listen, Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey |
| I’m strangling brothers, I’m harming them daily |
| I shoot a fair one with a midget |
| Duke, I shoot an airgun at a pigeon |
| Shut the fuck up! |
| Y’all niggas is bantamweights |
| Fucking with the white with the Tony Montana face |
| Andre Iguodala |
| I smack shit out of you, make your padre give me dollars |
| I’m not just a rapper I’m a painter by trade |
| Abstract art, just throw a grenade to your brains |
| Word to me and mine |
| Every word from P divine |
| I smack shit out of niggas dressing like Kia Shine |
| Yeah |
| The rap great, the beat crazy |
| On the daily, serve bullets across your temple get grazed it |
| Blood pouring out that vein, that’s not wavy |
| All I do in this world is get the money mainly |
| All I want in this world, my pretty |
| Four pound in her Chanel clutch, yeah that’s sweet |
| For the life, I’ll put your brain next to your feet |
| Break all your toy soldiers and make it complete |
| Then take a couple double shots with the team |
| And party like it’s 2020 on the beach |
| Life is what you make it so I made it iconic |
| I fuck her so good, yeah my dick is bionic |
| I’m dope like chronic, I’m nasty like vomit |
| I spit up a verse, on your level? |
| I’m beyond it |
| Black Mafia, Infamous, on that Mobb shit |
| Baby, you are now rocking with the best, we good regardless |
| I hear you talking but it don’t mean shit |
| 'Cause niggas will pop on you like SEAL Team Six |
| Cheers to the killers in limousines |
| Dope’s from Thailand, but it’s shipped through the Philippines |
| Soaked in kerosene and thrown in the guillotine |
| Burnt with your head cut off, you don’t dream |
| You’re gelatin, my skeleton is like Wolverine’s |
| Your family come for revenge, blow 'em to smithereens |
| I’m like Morpheus on opiates |
| Matrix, facelift with the can opener |
| Gatling on the stand whenever the van open up |
| Doors slide, pit’ll hit your face like it’s rawhide |
| Bullets hit your teeth like it’s fluoride |
| I’ma bring you through hell, I’ll be the tour guide |
| So what you want the hawk or the .45? |
| Don’t you ask me 'bout no rappers they can all die |