Three Six Talk lyrics

by

Quality Control


[Verse 1: Lil Yachty]
All I got left is a four, I'ma drink it slow
I tote a big .223, pinch that baby nose
I give a f*ck 'bout politics, I just play my role
I drunk three pints before gym, still be looking swole
I put red dot on his face like your mama mole
All I done did, I should move into a commode
Bad boujee b*tch off IG suck a n*gga soul
Drac' by my side, like a Glock, no, I could never fold
Broke n*gga mad 'cause I'm rich and I f*ck more hoes
Lil' b*tch still touring round my house, we gon' cut her toes
What happened to that one n*gga? sh*t, we'll never know
House so damn big, at the end, it's a pot of gold
Heard how they move when they goal is to wipe my nose
My nose too dry, if it's wet, someone gotta go
I might max out off that X, God was speaking back
n*ggas hit my (Huh?), and took my (Shh), I won't play with that
I'll pay for spinners 'fore I pay for that **** back
**** tote a five, stepper with that mac
Pouring up this Quagen, f*ck around and have a heart attack
Slime had a drought in they spot like an architect
Arc'teryx jacket cost a rack, it ain't never match
Matching with my whips like I'm Tip, I keep twenty straps
n*ggas freaking out, I keep calm 'cause it's under wraps
Riding with that SIG, bullets big, it could kill a calf
Cup filled with red like it's going down statistics graph
Graduated from school and the only thing I actually use is math
[Verse 2: DC2Trill]
Carat each diamond, gold AP, n*gga, do the math (Yeah)
She been sucking di*k for three hours, she need to take a bath (Yeah)
Matsuhisa, ate fire wagyu when I eat the calf
Trackhawk with the wide body, it's gon' leave the tags (Whew)
Finna find them n*ggas who took that (Shh), I'ma get 'em (Brrt)
Your n*gga testified and you still with him, that make you a rat
I poured a six of the Keisha, that's gon' bring me back (I poured a six)
I just pulled up in a car that you could never have
Spinning his block, so we leaving the cellphone
Buy some Rick and go to Chrome
Getting cash, ain't ever home
With my Glock, I'm not alone
You not legit, not f*cking with you
It's just us, get out the picture
Do it, bet that chopper stick 'em
Screw it, let's go handle business

[Verse 3: Draft Day]
Yeah
Now she see that you got motion, she want all forgiveness
When that light wasn't on me, I know you weren't paying attention
I'm tryna run up these Ms and quadruple that
n*ggas say they be in the gym, but we ain't seen a stack
White and gold bust-down Cartiers, it's a yay party
I'm always on time with this sh*t, you can ask Ashanti
I could talk that Three Six talk, why that syrup got me?
And I know that I'm godbody, we made like John Gotti
Concrete Boys, n*ggas know it's us, they ain't seen what we seen
Boat just pulled up in that double M, it was one of fifteen
All my n*ggas stand f*cking tall on everything they mean
You n*ggas hide behind the cameras, your life behind the scenes
[Outro: Draft Day]
Boy
Phew, phew, phew
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, mafia
Yeah, mafia
Yeah, mafia
Us, blatt
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