3 the Hardway

Lyrics

[Intro: Styles P] My nigga Young Roddy S.P. the Ghost Jet Life, D-Block You already know... aight [Verse 1: Styles P] Nigga you lookin' at Keyser Söze Zips on deck, bricks on deck and Rosé (Rosé) The young Jet, the old G (Yeah) Spend on smoke what these niggas pay for the whole Key (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) Lowkey (Low), or highkey Drop a piano on your head if you try me (Feel that) Or Young Roddy fly in the Maserati (Fly) Or the fleet with grow hand for the best look (Best, the best look) The work move faster then Russell Westbrook (Fast) Kevin Durant on the dope stamp (Oooh) My niggas potheads, but we the most in (We in) I ain't the swag champ, I'm the Lo champ Come and light it up with the Smoke Champ D-Block, Jet Life, you know both camps I get it in and I get it out Pitch ya money to me, I hit it out [Verse 2: Young Roddy] I started smokin' heavy cause times was gettin' Harder Step brother [?], left me a revolver Welcome to me, city land of the less fortune Glenwood Apartment AKA the Carter Uh, where they don't throw [?], they throw crosses Last name Spalding AKA I'm Ballin' Us against the world, fuck them niggas, we a problem So sucka free, sucka niggas pay extortion "Hold On" video had rocks in my pocket Linked up with DZA, got a plug up that Sour Hooked up with Styles, now I'm good out in Yonkers Good in any hood, I don't need no co-signer My girl on that Molly, me I'm on the Chronic Tre 1st and D-Block, real niggas mobbin' Bet somebody hammer 'round this bitch got a body Went from no bottles into bein' a role model Owww! [Verse 3: Smoke Dza] Righhht Hit my nigga Route with the Dour I been that nigga since niggas to Eddie Bauer A couple days, I ran through a quarter pounder Now I'm rolling up some Harlem shake, no Baauer Smell a stench that will wake the whole crowd up Smokers Club client, founder Run around Harlem on some Mayor shit Nigga prob let the AR spit On the block, he do the Graveyard shift Stay on it like clockwork We don't prolong, we pop first Put him out like he pop percs Shout out to my dogs Three way call from behind the wall My little homies strapped like they goin' to war Like fuck it, mystery go-goin' get me out in the morn' Come out with Packs like crack of dawn Save your profit nigga, weather the storm, keep hustlin DZA...