Prodigy 3 Stacks Lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Old school Pt.2, feel it
The realest, who be the realest?
That's how we do it, man
We run through it, nigga

I'm the number one insane rapper mix CD stabba'
Your album was doo-doo, I threw it out the passenger
The number one crapta, the 8, the 12, the 16, 22's and 23's
Sometimes I could blow a little steam

I got a lot on my chest but I keep it quiet
So I don't blow the steam
Get 'em every time, my military bars
Will leave a permanent mark on ya brain

The comeback kid, to see you get your ass whooped
Mad witnesses, these niggas mad shook
I don't have a clue, why he chose to speak on my name
When you know I'm gon' shoot

You know I'm gon' crack yo' face
When you see me in the place I'm a dangerous person
Behind the rope, poppin' off with the girl
You got the ratchet in the car
I got the ratchet on my person

3 stacks, 3 stacks, 3 stacks
And a pocket full of hacks
It don't stop, it don't stop, it don't stop
When it's on it go pop

Yo, it been a long time since I sold a dime on a dime
This shit too hot, whoa
It's poppin' uptown when I used to see Flaco
Now back to the block hollerin' 'I got those'

I got those in every state
Like the same amount of snitches that you got in your face I'm a make my cracks bigger and take over the whole hood
Shit changed, dunn the ladies say that I'm no good

I smoke wood, to get high till we pass out
Cash over bitches, that's how we ride out
I[a G, rep QBC, with a fully on my back, kidWho want beef? Loose teeth over bullshit, you want that? I'm a crazy motherf*cker' beat you down with a batIt's 'Big Twin' if you don't know, you betta' recognizeI'm not the one to f*ck withI'm down to catch a homicide, yeah3 stacks, 3 stacks, 3 stacksAnd a pocket full of hacksIt don't stop, it don't stop, it don't stopWhen it's on it go popFerrati Testarossa, I start the motorGo from New York to South DakotaWhen I was a kid I drank beer, not sodaNever hit the girls if they panties had the odorYou put my songs for sale and I'm a good earnerAnd I shot ya man, so I could test my burnerMy 223's spit, flyin' down the Van WyckWhen I'm in Queens, I make sure I see my man twinWhen I'm in Brooklyn, I holla at GLove to see the girls ass-naked in the TeeTake her to the crib, turn on the flat-screenMy couch is Gucci, sit ya ass next to me3 stacks, 3 stacks, 3 stacksAnd a pocket full of hacksIt don't stop, it don't stop, it don't stopWhen it's on it go pop]