Die 3

Buncha pussies! .. Straight pussies!<br><br>I know what you thought..<br>Die 3, Die 3 - you fuckin with me, Die 3<br>Die 3, Die 3 - you fuckin with me, Die 3<br>Yeah Die 3, Die 3 - when you fuckin with me, Die 3<br>Ya ya, ya ya, ya ya..<br><br>(Pussies! You know what I`m talkin about?)<br>(Those two bitches I fucked with, you feel me?)<br><br>Yo, yo<br>(Really, reality - they ain`t feminine, you feel me?)<br>(Uhhhhh, I don`t know what the fuck..<br> I ought to even tell y`all about them faggots man)<br>Fuck it, tell `em<br><br>[Verse One]<br>I don`t know how to begin to tell ya<br>how we had provolone cheese, muenster, swiss, mozzarella<br>Bad light skinned bitches, call `em Old Yeller<br>Snitch to your girl, bitches call `em hoe-tellers<br>Trust me, any nigga talk about us don`t know better<br>Never heard them tales how we throw them shells<br>And how we never seen again after we post our bail<br>Need twenty million nigga just to close my deal<br>You know why? I think big, Alpha motto gotta think kid<br>Get dough until it`s leakin like Cheese Whiz<br>Beef be the salsa, murder somethin gotta do<br>Even if it haunts ya<br>Cats attack nice guys, scared of the monsters<br>Alpha nigga ride with it, side with it, or die by it<br>Bitch<br><br>[Chorus]<br>Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3<br>Why you fuckin with me?<br>Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3<br>Why you fuckin with me?<br>Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3<br>Why you fuckin with me?<br>Die 3, ya ya, ya ya, ya ya<br><br>(Chedda Boy, take it man)<br><br>[Verse Two: Chedda Boy]<br>Uhh, nine times out of ten I lay back and watch the world spin<br>I hit it first now I`m gettin at her girlfriend<br>That`s the Chedda Boy for ya, look black?<br>But the crib filled with Goya, Sassoon and Adobo<br>You don`t know we put six on doors<br>Dick to whores, talk slick I click the four<br>Spit for all my bad, and straight to plate grinders<br>Shoot craps with old timers, and beg for knowledge<br>Let it soak in, Chedda Boy done focusin<br>I know you noticed when, I used to hustle records<br>Now I hustle the wheel, of a big Lexus<br>I`m the thing in the hood, these bitches wanna sex this<br>Young, well connected, Outfit rider<br>Never switch side up, until the crossroad divide us<br>We gon` hold it down cousin, and the hood is buzzin<br>Chedda Boy this, and Chedda Boy that<br>And I`m glad it ain`t crack<br><br>[Chorus]<br><br>[Verse Three: Crisis]<br>Like Khalid Muhammad, the O-U-T heed the drama<br>If a nigga want me, he gon` see dalima(?)<br>Crisis, the heater palmer, I rolls a bead upon ya<br>Kidnap your morticianist before he enbalm ya<br>Better be thankful that you got me to warn ya<br>You gon` need some armor, plus weed to calm ya<br>The painkillers we the game`s realest G`s with honor<br>Strike like a Giaconna while you scream for momma<br>The theme of horror, we livin in dividend chasin<br>Racin, we impatient<br>First off, this is for guns that burst off<br>And when (?) throws, leavin they foes the worse off<br>You be lucky if I let you get a verse off<br>Your raps is weak, your gats don`t leak, nigga you`re soft<br>And second, I`m reppin with a automatic weapon<br>Shit get more dramatic when we step in, the army<br><br>{*violin music gradually fades out*}