It's been a long time coming, 84
Prophet
Tell me who the f*ck is you? The pack came through and it smell brand new
My shit built through like its all bamboo
Know some crippin' ass niggas, they be comin' out the blue
And if you listen a little, I can show you how to talk to the birds, Dr. Dolittle
I tuck the heat in the middle, and if it's little, still change his address to the hospital
Peep game, I'm the grill, cause I hold flame, the whole thing, plus the propane oh man
I rep the Strict Nine gang and I remain
Shorty throw me signal like she switchin' a lane
I'm secluded, that mean you should leave
Birth control, put a hold on your seed
And believe it you bleedin', nigga
Have you lookin' at yourself like you conceited, nigga
Yeah, that's who I be, the rap Ali
To rap like this, you must sting like bee
How you hate on me? Cause I had a threesome before a state ID
Two bad bitches, all attention on me
Had them all on their knees, mouth wide, say please
I don't talk, no cheese, I'm not a rat, not me
I thought of zero degrees, how you niggas all freeze
Strict Nine, always good in the hood
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, you a bitch, nigga
And I see you with your chain, I'm a rich nigga
F*ck your bitch the same night, I'm a sick nigga
You don't know how to flip from a loss
Turn an eighth to an ounce, now you is your own boss
It's the price it costs, you tryna ice with frost
That's not a joke, nigga
F*ckin' bad bitches when I'm broke, nigga
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, your connect so trash
Nigga, what the f*ck is that? Matter of fact, bring it back
I don't need no slack, that's anonymous bud
Don't want my name on that
I've been ill since birth, you hear me when it hurts
Every time I write a verse, I pray without a church
And the hood is gettin' worse, so I'm ridin' with a body
Like I'm drivin' in a hearse
Bitch, popping pussy and she do it for the squad
I'm not a ghost writer, she just wanna take a bar
She f*ck with Strict Nine, cause she know we goin' far
Only one to do it better, got three letters
God, the type of shit that I'm on
Throwin' dirt on my name, they must've thought I was a lawn
They don't hear about me, so they thought I was gone
Now he tryna get his life back, nigga, that's a respawn
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Prophiavelli - 3 Letters Lyrics
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It's been a long time coming, 84
Prophet
Tell me who the f*ck is you? The pack came through and it smell brand new
My shit built through like its all bamboo
Know some crippin' ass niggas, they be comin' out the blue
And if you listen a little, I can show you how to talk to the birds, Dr. Dolittle
I tuck the heat in the middle, and if it's little, still change his address to the hospital
Peep game, I'm the grill, cause I hold flame, the whole thing, plus the propane oh man
I rep the Strict Nine gang and I remain
Shorty throw me signal like she switchin' a lane
I'm secluded, that mean you should leave
Birth control, put a hold on your seed
And believe it you bleedin', nigga
Have you lookin' at yourself like you conceited, nigga
Yeah, that's who I be, the rap Ali
To rap like this, you must sting like bee
How you hate on me? Cause I had a threesome before a state ID
Two bad bitches, all attention on me
Had them all on their knees, mouth wide, say please
I don't talk, no cheese, I'm not a rat, not me
I thought of zero degrees, how you niggas all freeze
Strict Nine, always good in the hood
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, you a bitch, nigga
And I see you with your chain, I'm a rich nigga
F*ck your bitch the same night, I'm a sick nigga
You don't know how to flip from a loss
Turn an eighth to an ounce, now you is your own boss
It's the price it costs, you tryna ice with frost
That's not a joke, nigga
F*ckin' bad bitches when I'm broke, nigga
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, your connect so trash
Nigga, what the f*ck is that? Matter of fact, bring it back
I don't need no slack, that's anonymous bud
Don't want my name on that
I've been ill since birth, you hear me when it hurts
Every time I write a verse, I pray without a church
And the hood is gettin' worse, so I'm ridin' with a body
Like I'm drivin' in a hearse
Bitch, popping pussy and she do it for the squad
I'm not a ghost writer, she just wanna take a bar
She f*ck with Strict Nine, cause she know we goin' far
Only one to do it better, got three letters
God, the type of shit that I'm on
Throwin' dirt on my name, they must've thought I was a lawn
They don't hear about me, so they thought I was gone
Now he tryna get his life back, nigga, that's a respawn
Prophet
Tell me who the f*ck is you? The pack came through and it smell brand new
My shit built through like its all bamboo
Know some crippin' ass niggas, they be comin' out the blue
And if you listen a little, I can show you how to talk to the birds, Dr. Dolittle
I tuck the heat in the middle, and if it's little, still change his address to the hospital
Peep game, I'm the grill, cause I hold flame, the whole thing, plus the propane oh man
I rep the Strict Nine gang and I remain
Shorty throw me signal like she switchin' a lane
I'm secluded, that mean you should leave
Birth control, put a hold on your seed
And believe it you bleedin', nigga
Have you lookin' at yourself like you conceited, nigga
Yeah, that's who I be, the rap Ali
To rap like this, you must sting like bee
How you hate on me? Cause I had a threesome before a state ID
Two bad bitches, all attention on me
Had them all on their knees, mouth wide, say please
I don't talk, no cheese, I'm not a rat, not me
I thought of zero degrees, how you niggas all freeze
Strict Nine, always good in the hood
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, you a bitch, nigga
And I see you with your chain, I'm a rich nigga
F*ck your bitch the same night, I'm a sick nigga
You don't know how to flip from a loss
Turn an eighth to an ounce, now you is your own boss
It's the price it costs, you tryna ice with frost
That's not a joke, nigga
F*ckin' bad bitches when I'm broke, nigga
That's a motherf*ckin' fact, your connect so trash
Nigga, what the f*ck is that? Matter of fact, bring it back
I don't need no slack, that's anonymous bud
Don't want my name on that
I've been ill since birth, you hear me when it hurts
Every time I write a verse, I pray without a church
And the hood is gettin' worse, so I'm ridin' with a body
Like I'm drivin' in a hearse
Bitch, popping pussy and she do it for the squad
I'm not a ghost writer, she just wanna take a bar
She f*ck with Strict Nine, cause she know we goin' far
Only one to do it better, got three letters
God, the type of shit that I'm on
Throwin' dirt on my name, they must've thought I was a lawn
They don't hear about me, so they thought I was gone
Now he tryna get his life back, nigga, that's a respawn
Writer: Stephen Gonzalez
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid