Lyrics
Madrox:
Product of the ghetto
Three jokers like the male Nicholson and Leto
Real kinds, yea we blast on the instrumental
Smile a dick behind bandanas and influential
And I’m mental at the same time make it special
Rhyme my rhymes like bullet holes fuck the pen, pencil
Make casualty out of foes, body make a stencil
For the sidewalk talk, he said he had potential
But he dead now, that’s the story of the competition
The bitches don’t exist in the mix of any music I listen
It’s like divine intervention
But can you separate the trill from the ill that’s the question
G’s up, fuck hoes always been the same since Atlanta? day
Ain’t a damn thing change in the muthafuckin' musical play
Three fingers in the air
Give a fuck what they say
Chorus:
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat?
Anybody want some, killas, rough necks
Even baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin' better lay down
You feelin' some kind of way now
We’re gonna leave everybody dead
RIP just like the mutherfuckin' soul stand
Monoxide:
Lit the end of the weed up
And let the trunk pop
Turn your front lawn into a hood store parking lot
I got the beat bangin' like blue jeans
Houdin' in the buffalo sauce without the blue cheese
I said I ain’t fly no more I got the new wings
I got ‘em all watchin' how we do thing, changing up the routines
Aw — you ain’t fuckin with the new team
I don’t give a fuck how you doing
I just want to find out where you stand, start shooting
Fuck arguing, I got no time for it
I’d rather get my dick sucked and just ignore it
I get for it cause your writing a check and your mouth get paid for it
I’ll bitch slap your lips back
Step quick like Kit Kats
You’re on my galaxy like I was Chris Pratt
I want ta fuck, where your bitch at
Better put a leash on it or we’re gonna have a mishap
Chorus:
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat?
Anybody want some, killas, rough necks
Even baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin' better lay down
You feelin' some kind of way now
We’re gonna leave everybody dead
RIP just like the mutherfuckin' soul stand
Blaze:
Put your eyes forward, triple threat, get it lit
Man every set, where they at, fuck the bitches actin hostile
Bible ain’t no rival in the taint
Put your three fingers up if you fuckin with me
East side, I still claim, ain’t a tight ass
Somebody turned up dead in the basement — nothin' changed
Think we in the same lane highly confused
Four second story tellin got me midly amused
But like every politican you’re abusing your power
Time to hit the pot, or better yet, hit the showers
Yous some cowards
What you’d thought I’d stay back — never that
The credits on the block bringin' sevens on the track
You bitches still like the debt, thought you accept
Representin' what I think somebody always get the xxx
Rest in Peace with your edits
Who discredit the fam
Triple threat is back and we ain’t even going ham
Chorus:
Thugs, Felons, Hoods, G’s
Stay the day loaded and we’ll make you rep the beat?
Anybody want some, killas, rough necks
Even Baby G better show the 3 some respect
Anybody steppin' better lay down
You feelin' some kind of way now
We’re gonna leave everybody dead
RIP just like the mutherfuckin' soul stand