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lirik lagu mo3 - hardaway

la da da da da
da da da da
it’s only right that i tell my side of
the story (mo motherf~ckin’ 3, yeah )
i pray that the gun jam
when they catch me lackin’
assalamu alaik~m, walaik~m salam
allah my creator, they hate that i want
i’m the undertaker, i don’t need a gun
yeah i’m still the same, with or without it
i’ma rep the gang, but i keep it on me
rockin’ like my chain, smoke him like a doobie
shoot him by his brain, school em’ with the toolie
ooh, i’m not a lame
up it i’ma shoot it we are not the same
you up it just to scare me let me walk away
god why he playing he gone die today
fans going crazy when i’m out of state
hoe wanna rape me tryna get a baby
n~gga plottin’ on me sn~tch him by his face
(?), malcom x him out the gang
leopard car, whole burner by the way
chinchilla, four wheeler doing the race
my philosophy is something different
she won’t swallow me she not frisky
b~tches lie to me i’m not trippin’
n~ggas lie to me i won’t listen
pop up with them sticks and get even
glock tucked with this d~ck in my britches
fornicate shine like an ornament on the christmas tree
hoe do not mention me, bleed from the body
like a hoe on the period came from the streets
but i speak somethin’ serious (for real)
there they go, lurking i’m looking all in the mirror
yeah, we ready we go get it and heat it i got a visual
yeah, talk to the devil lay down on my pistol
told the reaper don’t k!ll him if i can’t go with him
beef on the block i don’t talk i just whisper
we beat they block up f~ck the law this that issue
glizzy this glock 23 hold 50
pay extra for the fully so that b~tch shoot swiftly
go and ask the last n~gga what he did to me
stole from me like a snake now he
starving sitting looking
in my ig pictures wishing he was wit’ me
yeah, all these racks on me like serena playing tennis
look me in the face n~gga when you talk to me
lil n~gga but i’m big b~tch thought i was a bully
all black akon dripping wit’ the hoodie
lethal when i spray somethin’ jumping out of bushes
lost a lot of n~ggas to the fact that i’ma win
could never call a n~gga knowin’ i ain’t got a friend
17 on the cell block i was in the pen’
and i can’t name once a n~gga came to visit
yeah, i grew up the hardaway
so i refuse see that struggle on my daughter’s face
my son getting bigger look just like me and it’s hard to say
hope that boy don’t grow up to be no gangsta
he just one yellin’ gang, i’m like d~mn tre
when that cell lock on that cell block
i’m like d~mn got on my hands and pray
when they got my own that’s real to feed my fam
made me a man mi a top shotta, mi murda di bwoy
bomboclaat, running the land of apes
booyaka, booyaka, ruger
but i demand the k
i demand the cake, your b~tch fed me grapes
and the love for went four way
hey or you’ll get amputated
i do not procrastinate
i’ma go on and sh~t on these boys
and i’m not constipated, aye
aye, b~tch i’ve been patiently waiting
i had some harder days (harder days)
they hurt my feelings and i can’t lie when
i hear people say, “mo3 fell off, oh, he ain’t hot no more” but did you think? sh~t got real
that’s what that is, i had to fight them cases
i’m a gangster, i ain’t fakin’
keep it real before that deal
foreign whip when i was racing
really real, was in that field
ask my momma, ask my auntie
.40 glock man down, ba, ba
knock his face in
osama take him under, ba, ba
oh, he shaking
i was broke like you
i was poor like you
i ain’t have no where to go
i couldn’t buy no food
barely had a cell phone knowing that
bill was due (can’t call me)
i was wearing the same clothes and
the same shoes, yeah, yeah
god gave me the strength to do my thing so i’ma do it, no i’m not a saint but still
a praise him in my music
stood up like a man held it down and kept it moving
why they in a rush to take me down hope i lose
me, yeah, yeah
i had it the hardaway, yeah, yeah, oh, yeah
no weapon formed against me, shall prosper
it won’t work
#llmo3

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