lirik lagu mike jones - 3 grams
[intro: mike jones]
money train
my life
high life
mike jones (who?)
[hook: mike jones]
three grams in my swisher, n-gga
went from bein’ broke to bein’ a rich n-gga
[verse 1]
yo, hold up
three grams in a swisher, n-gga
if it ain’t ’bout the money, get up out my [?] n-gga
all these [?] call me club godzilla, n-gga
hit that matrix when a b-tch try to kiss a n-gga
bendin’ corners in that benz on them inches, n-gga
if a b-tch rollin’ with me, she look exquisite, n-gga
jacker run up on my window, leave him missing, n-gga
make that boy disappear like a wizard, n-gga
hold up. club god i’m [?]
h-town n-gga, deuce out the roof
your baby momma rollin’ with me in the coupe
she wanna blow a n-gga like a flute
got a big, six-bedroom, house in the wilderness
and i f-ck your hoes in it
hold up
i’m from h-town, b-tch
that ain’t no slab if it ain’t got no 84’s with it
hold up
[hook]
[verse 2]
three grams in my swisher, n-gga
went from bein’ broke to bein’ a rich n-gga
‘member me instead, goin’ half on a nick’, n-gga
now, i’m only rollin’ up ape’s out the zip, n-gga
higher than a clip, n-gga
tryin’ catch a play or a l!ck
cause a broke n-gga never did sh-t, n-gga
no need for favors, i ain’t ask my neighbor
tellin’ all them labels, “i ain’t signin’ sh-t”, n-gga
called up skip
he said he just got in some piff
and he had a good deal on the split, n-gga
ok fo’ sho’
i’m on the way to the sto’
i’m only tryin’ to smoke
ain’t fitna flip, n-gga
three different buds, we blow just because
i swear my eyes feel tighter than a grip, n-gga
it’s the money train
your -ss ain’t got no money, man
you might as well close your f-ckin’ lips, n-gga
what, motherf-cka?
[hook]
[verse 3]
three grams in my swisher, n-gga
a lot of gold [?] issue, n-gga
the ’87 with the gl-ss that i’m pullin’ out
twenty four inches, [?] like what they talkin’ ’bout
been a no limit soldier, feelin’ like i’m master p
and i don’t make ’em say sh-t, but they pay a fee
i’m the dopest n-gga in the motherf-ckin’ industry
alot of gold and tattoos got ’em feelin’ me
cortez kings what these n-ggas really wanna be
hot boy, cash money, [?] a g
louisiana [?] shinin’ for my n-gga snoop
cause all my n-gga ever wanted was a f-ckin’ coupe
three grams in my swisha, n-gga
light it up and pray for it like a bishop, n-gga
if you ain’t talking ’bout money, i don’t hear sh-t
this that three gram dope boy g-mix
i keep me…
[hook]
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