"Top 3" lyrics
(GMoney)
Yeah
Four Door
Ayy
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Don't talk to me 'bout no get-back, nigga, I kill who shot me
Ayy, ayy, don't talk to me 'bout no top five, say Four in top three
Ayy, that Glock don't ever jam, I X my 43
I do it myself, I don't need no other nigga recordin' me
The bitch can't buy me a AP, that bitch can't afford me, mm
I tried to call that bitch, stupid-ass bitch, she forward me
Ayy, ballin' all first half, we just in quarter three
Nigga went to jail and found me, he dropped me a quarter ki'
Said he like me, I didn't talk and these niggas talk way more than me
Let bruh slide 'cause it was forty-one, it's supposed to be forty-three
That nigga said he got some smoke for me, then we goin' to see
Ain't nobody had kicked no doors for me, nigga, you know it's me
You ain't up that durin' that robbery, can't away from me
On that— uh
Stop these niggas, I'll pat and frisk niggas
Winter time when I come out, it's time to work my wrist, nigga
Son understand the shit I'm sayin', watch him get bigger
Nigga know I'm not no damn forgiver and not no forgetter
Halloween, nigga, I'ma be turnt up all the way to December
Mr., uh, Shoot that Motherfucker, arm, leg out the window
See me, try to go back on all that shit you said, remember? (Yeah)
B-A-C-K Door, that's just how I'm gon' play it, nigga
See a pussy nigga, slap a pussy-ass nigga
I don't like that nigga music, that shit trash, nigga
Record another song and give it to the trash, nigga (Yeah)
If you fuck up that bag, I give you, that's your ass, nigga
Told that bitch I ain't nothin' like your last nigga
Old bitch bringin' up old shit, left it in the past with her (Yeah)
Bitch say that dick so good, she damn near break my windows
Steak and hibachi, nigga came from chicken dinners
Can't tell who real and who ain't, niggas be pretenders (Yeah)
Nigga come down they block trippin', get put in a blender (Yeah)
Baby say she soul searchin', I'm a born sinner (Yeah)
Bring them Glocks right to the show, I perform with 'em (Yeah)
Shit get deeper than you know, you ain't goin' in there
Baby Four, he throw the fours, he a born member
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Don't talk to me 'bout no get-back, nigga, I kill who shot me
Ayy, ayy, don't talk to me 'bout no top five, say Four in top three
Ayy, that Glock don't ever jam, I X my 43
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Yeah
Four Door
Ayy
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Don't talk to me 'bout no get-back, nigga, I kill who shot me
Ayy, ayy, don't talk to me 'bout no top five, say Four in top three
Ayy, that Glock don't ever jam, I X my 43
I do it myself, I don't need no other nigga recordin' me
The bitch can't buy me a AP, that bitch can't afford me, mm
I tried to call that bitch, stupid-ass bitch, she forward me
Ayy, ballin' all first half, we just in quarter three
Nigga went to jail and found me, he dropped me a quarter ki'
Said he like me, I didn't talk and these niggas talk way more than me
Let bruh slide 'cause it was forty-one, it's supposed to be forty-three
That nigga said he got some smoke for me, then we goin' to see
Ain't nobody had kicked no doors for me, nigga, you know it's me
You ain't up that durin' that robbery, can't away from me
On that— uh
Stop these niggas, I'll pat and frisk niggas
Winter time when I come out, it's time to work my wrist, nigga
Son understand the shit I'm sayin', watch him get bigger
Nigga know I'm not no damn forgiver and not no forgetter
Halloween, nigga, I'ma be turnt up all the way to December
Mr., uh, Shoot that Motherfucker, arm, leg out the window
See me, try to go back on all that shit you said, remember? (Yeah)
B-A-C-K Door, that's just how I'm gon' play it, nigga
See a pussy nigga, slap a pussy-ass nigga
I don't like that nigga music, that shit trash, nigga
Record another song and give it to the trash, nigga (Yeah)
If you fuck up that bag, I give you, that's your ass, nigga
Told that bitch I ain't nothin' like your last nigga
Old bitch bringin' up old shit, left it in the past with her (Yeah)
Bitch say that dick so good, she damn near break my windows
Steak and hibachi, nigga came from chicken dinners
Can't tell who real and who ain't, niggas be pretenders (Yeah)
Nigga come down they block trippin', get put in a blender (Yeah)
Baby say she soul searchin', I'm a born sinner (Yeah)
Bring them Glocks right to the show, I perform with 'em (Yeah)
Shit get deeper than you know, you ain't goin' in there
Baby Four, he throw the fours, he a born member
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Don't talk to me 'bout no get-back, nigga, I kill who shot me
Ayy, ayy, don't talk to me 'bout no top five, say Four in top three
Ayy, that Glock don't ever jam, I X my 43
Fifty thousand on his top piece
Writer(s): A
