Mr. 3-2 - Royalty lyrics

Published

0 38 0

Mr. 3-2 - Royalty lyrics

(Hook - 2x) Copper platinum, silver and gold Even with lint in my pockets, I'm still gon hold Sitting swoll down South, diamonds in our mouth We gotta put it in your face, just to show you what we bout (Mr. 3-2) Platinum tongue, platinum game platinum speaking Pimping the streets, over these beats I'm freaking Thugged out Iceberg, Gucci and coochie Strapped up at all times, I can't let these n***az do me Taking this gangsta sh** truly, keeping it playa Governor of this rap game, the Boss Man with long hair Sitting in a Versacci chair, calling shots Street Game CEO, my pockets is addicted to knots We bleed blocks and bust shots, and ride down on ya From Texas to NYC, all the way back to California You's a goner I got to get ya, straight like that Squash the chat, erasing your feature off the map What's the hap's on my feddy, cause I'm coming to get it Can't mention this sh** cold, but I'm leader ridiculous I'm wicked and stay true, to who loyal to me Copper platinum silver and gold, representing royalty (Hook - 2x) (Billy Bad Ass) For the love of this game doing the thang, loving this game Who's to blame, b**h read the chain Invisible set princess cut, spell my name f** you know b**h, ain't no need to explain I keep a thing for aim, flip a V-12 with bang 4.6 range, riding the South with terrain Strapped like Jesse James, the real gon feel my pain Check my veins, and if I knock down the d** Check my block, and if I knock down a thug Check my glock, it'll be eleven and one slug With n***az with mean mugs, thinking they seen slugs But I was leveled and seen, with n***az dicks in the mud (Hook - 2x) (Billy Bad Ass) Copper, platinum, silver and gold Pimps, k**ers, dealers and hoes Is all I know, riding close and slow from ma**ive cold Got licks where I whip's, 36 to 84 A Street Game contract, like big Shaq sh** And the Governor got my back, for you n***az with that jack sh** You don't know, you better ask Cause Billy Bad Ass, will get you a toe tag b**h (Mr. 3-2) Sitting swoll I'm cold, in this street game I play Me and Billy Bad Ass, ready to put work in cause it pays Punk watch what ya see, about royalty Cause you don't wanna cross that line, in your L-I-F-E G-O-V, represent the almighty dolla Fake n***az speak like hoes, but real n***az holla Holla-holla, if you ain't talking bout nothing b**h you better move around, get out my face and stack some'ing Quit fronting like you the man, cause I'm knowing you's a runner I'm a 3rd Coast Boss, with my lil' bro right up under ya Hitting these streets like thunder, in a Benz on cutters Mean mugging for the world, ready to k** a motherf**er (*talking*) Ha hoe n***az we fa sho n***az, kick do' n***a Smoke dro, f** your hoe fa sho n***a Running these broads b**h, royalty is money b**h Know I'm tal'n bout