3/15 Lyrics

(Knock on the wood so I knock on my dick)

(4, 5, 6 stacks in my face)

(When I come to the hold up place)

(Run so fast like an 808)

Knock on the wood so I knock on my dick

4, 5, 6 stacks in my face

When I come to the hold up place

Run so fast like an 808

No j's no get no fade

In the crib no dish no plate

No kiss no miss no play

The pistol miss no shots no shave

I know rain when it come both ways

No ice when it come from a chain

I know crystal this no game

Those tricks don't make no stages

I know canvas can hold ranges

I know trances that hold ages

I know bricks that drop from the hay

I know since two bit cops finna cave

I can run but I go no places, no patience, so gracious

When you let down guard no traces

But I guess you can say cold cases

(Hold up Bato hidden where you been)

Man you cannot guess but go crazy

(Close up you the model for the kin)

For the kin go rough go chasin

(Flow's up, you the father for the kids you the model for the ends)

(You the water in a drought you the color in the grey you the follower the friend)

I'm the follower the friend when the income down in the dumps and you doubt yourself in advance

So quiet when I look I'm intense

So tied to the books and the pens

No lies finna drop in the end

Don't fly too close to the sand stop

I don't name drop, I know fake shots can hold face swaps

I don't like to float in the rain drops, I do paint docks I do save lots

I do save lives, I do shame opps

I do stay while I don't make bops and heyyy

Spittin on while I lay

Now I spend long nights wide awake rackin up on bars and analogies and metaphors

Pouring down drinks with the four four bitch so thoughtful old gone menopause

Little do you know it's yo mum and her mum sippin tea aw stop we're not animals

Animals getting it raw got her lipstick drawn all round my genitals

Imma chat with your babe

Dripping my blood on the chat got chapped on a text

Shat on a bitch

Giving her the shaft got shacked so hard got shaq for a dick

Back on a whim

Back with the bag of the big white stacks and a bitch might stand for the gram and a pic

Cuz two can play that game but you ain't one of them so I dance my dance and I dip

Two friends not one of them stressed

Too bent to realize that you blessed

Too pent up I don't know what the commotion been on side of the mess

Now you don't come by to the fence

And I'm all so right in the head

So say whatchu want in the end

Knock on the wood so I knock on my dick

4, 5, 6 stacks in my face

When I come to the hold up place

Run so fast like an 808

No j's no get no fade

In the crib no dish no plate

No kiss no miss no play

The pistol miss no shots no shave

I know rain when it come both ways

No ice when it come from a chain

I know crystal this no game

Those tricks don't make no stages

I know canvas can hold ranges

I know trances that hold ages

I know bricks that drop from the hay

I know since two bit cops finna cave

(I know since two bit cops finna cave)