Hey yo, it's fucked up, in your right hand Flash his badge with his left hand on some Donnie Brascoe shit Forget about it, made men, should hang with
smalls, huh, yeah My man Inf left a Tec and a nine at my crib Turned himself in, he had to do a bid A one-to-three, he be home the end of '93 I'm ready
probably go back to the bar Have me a drink, sit down and think about all the fuckin' bullshit That happened to me within this week But I'm three feet
m so sorry Jack but there ain't none left. Come here Louann, what, closer, what? Come here Louann, *slaps* what do you mean theres no god damn beer left
just another freak show thing And now they got me in the three ring Three ring a ding a ding ding People love to point and stare Three ring a ding a
the wheat and the oats Two feet high and risin' How high's the water, Mama? Three feet high and risin' How high's the water, Papa? She said, "It's three feet
a casket How you do that, I call it dope boy magic I'm numba one to turn a pair of bow Jackson raiders and two A fresh pair of Mariallen gators three
who ya see? Young J O C, yeah that's me Twenty eight G's, on my feet twenty three's I just bought a zone, J's on my feet I'm on that Patron so get like
towards you TECH N9NE for verse one and three there's two sides to every story, except for verse two I was rubbing in two left shoes I apologize man
Que ready for report System, overload The year 2005 Caution, warning, overload Are you ready on the right? System, overload Ready on the left? Caution
cops, every time my sperm drops She's in my face with thongs, chewin' lollipops I'll hit that butt on the low, just like Monica Play three tunes and
ate State trooper we super we dooper Watch it when we loop or make the left burn out And watch the club turn out I keep it raw on tour, feet stay on
-less shoes on her feet Dirty jeans With mildew spots in the washing machine Roommates with no place, babies crying, pissy pampers Roaches and flies funky panties hanging out the hamper Three
die from thirst, that's when the minister Quenched my jaws with a cold glass of vinegar Upon my wounds they seasoned me with salt And nailed my hands, feet
tried harder My baby raised to hate her daddy Her mammy playa hate and wishin' that she had me She hate to see me on tha street And still on my feet
ribs But you hugged her, you loved her, moved her in the crib Hit by cupid, stupid, why'd you do it? Why be bother? Why you holla? Three babies, three
Next to Spike an' be panned left to right I own Madison Square, catch me at the fight But damn once again if you pan left at the ice If you the man