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3 Sum (feat. Robb Bank$)

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Lirik
Yo man, this a hit, big hit

Ayy Ben, this, this shit might be a hit right here

You know we thuggin', Broward County to the death, n**a

You already know, n**a, f**k that n**a

What? What?

Yeah, yeah, yeah

I like head, I like p**y

I like that mouth, but I don't like kisses

I like threesomes with multiple bitches

I like Felisha, I like Jenny

I like ridin' that b**h like a pony

I like to get my hands dirty 'bout my doly

I know I make a b**h sick, let her s**e (yeah)

Heard your wrist tickin' loud with that fake-ass Rollie, p**y

Whoa, whooped out a twelve inch, said that taste it like candy

Whoa, how the f**k you walk past me and you ain't bow down to me (mwah)

Whoa, I get a lil' money and I can't even talk to these p**s (mwah)

Whoa, I see the n**a dead in the streets, I can't say nothin', no

You gotta drip, don't cuff that shit

You lovin' that thot, don't cuff that b**h

I got yo' paycheck on my wrist

I could pay your tuition if I wave my hand

Got a bachelors degree, I'ma bachelor the b**h

In her dorm room at UCL

Feel like B2K, shit, I'll never fear

I'm in my trap, baby, you know I ain't miss

I got Marcus using when I jump out of the car

Black man ride, pullin' up like, "Eugh"

Leather jacket, Margiela like Fuzzy

'Member when I was locked up in the County

Mama threw all my Perc's down the toilet

An officer watchin', was lookin', he try to find me

So my lil' brother cry when we lost our granny

Ten BB I said when that n**a met Manny

I can't talk to these niggas at all

If you f**k thirty, I'm tryna see a n**a ball

'Bout, 'bout, 'bout, 'bout, 'bout that vibe

Might expose the story, I ain't watch it all

I done got tired to the Audi

A b**h got a Rolls Royce truck, B

Gave her Caribbean, hold that car

I like head, I like p**y

I like that mouth, but I don't like kisses

I like threesomes with multiple bitches

I like Felisha, I like Jenny (like, uh)

I like ridin' that b**h like a pony

I like to get my hands dirty 'bout my doly (b**h)

I know I make a b**h sick, let her s**e

Heard your wrist tickin' loud with that fake-ass Rollie, p**y

Whoa, whooped out a twelve inch, said that taste it like candy, yeah

Whoa, how the f**k you walk past me and you ain't bow to me (mwah)

Whoa, I get a lil' money and I can't even talk to these p**s, yeah (mwah)

Whoa, I see the n**a dead in the streets, I can't say nothin', no (yeah)