Three’s UP lyrics
by Gucci Mane
[Chorus: D.B. Tha General]
3s up, we sliding Veezas
We got our cheese up, mobbin with my feet up
Broke b*tch, an old b*tch, get your cheese up
[Verse 1: D.B. Tha General]
Money long, you know how that b*tch go
Any n*gga not bout doe, send that b*tch right up the snow
He want 4, hell no
Man, you know that ain't goin go
See, 3 5, where we're at, b*tch n*ggas die
Run and hide, I'm a motherf*ckin goon
I'm a beast, in the dark full moon
In that whole cartoon, b*tch talkin bout gettin chips, but ain't have no money
You ain't suckin di*k, I'm on her quick
Show her that I'm with the sh*t
With the clique, so I gotta get sick
You trippin, gotta calm your ass down
Got the mac, and a couple racks, see, I'm from the town
[Chorus: D.B. Tha General]
3s up, we sliding Veezas
We got our cheese up, mobbin with my feet up
Broke b*tch, an old b*tch, get your cheese up
[Verse 2: V-Nasty]
Keep a zip, smokin on that good sh*t
You suckers hating on me, Imma show your ass hood sh*t
Playin with my money, I wish you would, b*tch
I been gettin racks, out in Holliwood, b*tch
I get sick quick, f*ckin with the squad
Only on this day, you f*ckin with the mob
Keep my 3 up, boy, that's who raised me
Eastside of California, that's who made me
I f*ck with my hood, 35th, stand up
Ask about the last, hood rat now
It's a robbery, b*tch, put your hands up
You hoes down there, while I got my bands up
[Chorus: D.B. Tha General]
3s up, we sliding Veezas
We got our cheese up, mobbin with my feet up
Broke b*tch, an old b*tch, get your cheese up
[Verse 3: Quise Tha Criminal]
b*tch, we T'd up, throwin them 3s up
Me and Evie blowin purple, he be havin a seizure
Run up on us if you want to, I bet we won't freez up
I'm the shoulder heater, rappin on, ain't no playin with them actors
I'm all about that action, choppers and them gloccs
f*ck dien in the hood, I kill you in the block
Hood n*ggas pistol whippin, start pimpin
Thes hoes like Cur DeRico
From uptown to shutdown, movin pounds
Doin shows, different citys
Real n*ggas, f*ck m, on my di*k, your b*tch suck for me
Like a n*gga that been to jail, I gettin a rest
We poppin bottles, me, and my brother Jeff
[Chorus: D.B. Tha General]
3s up, we sliding Veezas
We got our cheese up, mobbin with my feet up
Broke b*tch, an old b*tch, get your cheese up