3hree Kings Lyrics - The Underachievers

I got 7 mac 11's, it's a 147 on any peasant 

With a stone cold vengance will get ya brethren 

This the daily routine chase dreams and scoop green 

But of course this broke niggas wanna get in between 

So i keep my eye wide on the New York crime side 

It's 33 reasons why i'm just too fly 

My ora stay beaming indigo blue feeding off ya soul 

Fool beating off the pro tools ahh 

Do what i gotta till my crew hold a lotta ones 

Momma see what i become shining on the world her son 

Told me i would be the one way before neyo 

You niggas ain't believe though now i'm bombing like my weed smoke bitch! 

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Smoking on this loosie still elegant like a 2 piece 

Mister writing on my iPhone i stuffed my pockets with lose leafs 

Like loose leaves fall in autumn i turn the clock never stalled em 

Spit fire like we some sawyers they look they never saw us 

I'm painting let me do my thang yo type always bend a name or 2 that i'm 7 chains 

Bumping they music will leave stupid like heroin rather medicine 

That's to eat that proper sediment for better man 

Like a black hearse we lead and we stay ahead of them 

Edison the way the light bulbs on my head they shimmering 

If yo shit ain't lit you ain't using yo head severit 

Shoutout for the battle but none of these niggas helmets fit ughh! 

You unprepared homie you need my messages 

My flow like walking on stilts giving niggas that leverage dropping gems and shit 

Filled up inside of my penmanship peep the redder it 

We make new rules like we presidents 

I'm tryna win but in the process of a better man 

Who you better than? never me nigga i got synonym 

Stay anonymous only few niggas conspire with 

Spitting higher shit that boom bap lyrical scientist 

People trying it tell em conquer their whole environment 

Yo tv lying man flip egg brain and they frying it 

Devine, illuminated fire spinning 3 eyes 

Creating my reality since a nigga was knee high 

Photos 

See i, come through and always handle my B.I 

Rock split life after death shouts to B.I 

G.I Puppies up in heavens with the angels 

Leave them niggas on ankles sting them niggas like a bee hive 

We are street kings similar to T.I 

We are 3 kings gifted on the M.I 

C.I see why niggas hate cuz we up 

Mad as shit cuz they down 

I would hate to be y'all 

My gun would make you revolve 

I got 8, 38's increase the murder rates 

I send niggas to pearly gates 

I Know magic my gun would make you levitate 

Hit you with the shotty catch a body then we celebrate