1, 2, The 3

"1, 2, and 3"

Yo, let's do it

... we gon' do this one

Let the beat ride for a minute though

Will {?} in the house from the town

FaceMob in this bitch, 'bout to tear shit down

Uh-huh, yeah, there it is

Yeah

Still the, truth in the game ain't a damn thing changed

Prone to tote heat up and then shoot flames

Double the O.G. of a deuce thug thang

Bitches who know me know how I do dames

Still, fuckin with James we roll in this shit hard

I locked up the South, he locked the 5th Ward

Loaded and cocked, I'm known to be a block bleeder

Known to get paper and I ain't fin' to stop neither

I got {?} drive Porsches and shit

Ranch got horses, golf courses and shit

Eat shrimp steak crab raw oysters and shit

And still fuck around with all my boys in the bricks

International nigga, I been in and out the states

Kingston, Brazil, bitches feedin me grapes

I can, cut it and bake, all I need is some soda, a plate

A microwave, Pyrex and a cake

You can get it how you want it, what I'm spittin is free

I don't need to hold in court what I can hold in the streets

Niggaz know how I was raised so ain't no question these

Consequences you gon' face when niggaz fuckin with me

There it is

One for the niggaz wanna cross me up

Two for the bitches wanna toss me up

Three for the people tryin to get my mail

Wanna send me to jail so they can lock me up

Four for the hoes who wanna block my shine

Five for the snitch who went and dropped that dime

Six for the suckers who ain't got no game

That's a God damn shame, that's why he hatin on mine

From the North to the South I don't need no passes

You bitches get out of line, I'ma bleed yo' asses

Look man, I ain't the huffin puffin type

I'ma put that pistol in your motherfuckin life

Mayor {?} call my crib, I be gettin them greens

Fuckin the finest hoes that can fit in some jeans