Bee-Gee - Three Thirty-Nine lyrics

[Intro: Jet 2] Three thirty-nine a.m Just finished working on the last track of A Daredevil's Dream So it's a celebration [Verse 1: BeeGee] Bossy, no guidance but never will he sell his soul Not having it is evil so the money is the main goal Remain strong in these streets, mean muggin' grittin' teeth Tempation is after you, so compatible within these sheets Money, cars, clothes, hoes, damn I want a lot of those Don't you f**ing judge me, n***a who's not really shallow though I don't give a f**, this is me; I accept that Confidence is key that's why you bang all my worse raps Pull at Lucy's late at night Higher than a Nasa flight Get an enchilada plate to prep me for the wake and bake Tighter than some leggings dude BeeGee is never begging you I'm pegging you lyrically English language symphony Take my girl to Tiffany She comprehends it shopping spree LV, Jimmy Choo, Fendi is undoubtedly In the bag, my pants sag, she love a n***a's mannerisms OG like me never on no vandalism, b**h [Verse 2: Jet 2] Lookin' like a... Lookin' like a million dollars or something just by the way I sit Put me in the room, I'll probably hit just to say I did Wake up searching for it justifying the way I live It's heaven sent... kickin' rhymes for a dime that's no where a ten of ten All black everything, leading will like the men in them Chasing after cake like Rihanna after the S&M As soon as they steppin' out, I'm steppin' in If I ever had two exes, they just took an L cause I'm one of the freshest men Crew is like an army of messengers, got the game on lock Like a figure four, we're no wrestlers, this ain't wrestling This is more like vaseline on the a** of three models Real toasty, going down on the third floor of the Bellagio Word to BeeGee, n***a Wrekless ENT, n***a Shaq and Kenny Charles announcing it, TNT n***a Shout out paparazzi eating Pocky's on a beach Oh, you caught me want a piece? What you TMZ n***a? [Verse 3: Rico] Damn, I swear my crew the hardest Been working to get acknowledged So if you n***as ain't targets, then Listen to the words that we been said Been spittin' rhymes since licorice and a Big Red Gettin' a big head, let me slow down for big head She a super bad b**h, but she'll be coming for big bread Yeah, God damn this sh** is superficial But I swear if she on her menstrual, I'mma grab my pistol bruh Shoot a b**h with a punchline, her p**y next You just lunch while we've been waiting for crunch time And yeah, this a bad time and boy, yup droppin' bombs n***a ain't ready, just call my a** Osama Yo' momma know what's up, cause drama So call yo' momma right now, she gon' slobber On the knobber If a n***a ready, I just tell a yellow-bone Just hop up on the corn-a-cobber Hit her real quick and yeah the b**h way thicker Than the last one, smoke her like the last blunt Spit it like a pastor n***a, do you feel him? I'm a real n***a, get it boy I'm a villain Or hero, everybody know what's up, the real one Jet said all black, do you f**ing feel him