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3 Stooges Video (MV)




Performed By: BabyTron
Featuring: Certified Trapper, BLP KOSHER
Length: 2:24
Written by: Danny G, Jakesand, James Johnson IV




BabyTron - 3 Stooges Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Certified Trapper, BLP KOSHER ]

(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Water, yeah
(Damn, JakeSand)

Free my dog, he 'bout to go from goulash to panna cotta
I don't burn, but if I do, then Adolf hidin' in the ZaZa
I might bulletproof the donkey with Ahura Mazda
They was laughin' at them open mics, I just did The Fonda
Bombed the block with a switch, would've think he Nuge
Opps trash in the bin, why you think they Brute
Jit was talkin' 'bout our generation, shit I can't salute
Oversaturated out the gate, bitch, I don't dilute
And I can't even hear the hecklin' when I'm drinkin' booze
Just Tron, Certified, and I, I'm the first Stooge
I'll poke an opp like Larry Fine, brother Moe too
Went from slidin' stolo, now it's donuts in the showroom
Five racks for a friend, this shit hairy, but I like the style
Jit sweet, I'm talkin' watermelon sugar high
Back-to-back shows, lost my voice, I'm sippin' chamomile
I'm in the Lab one mile away from 8 Mile

Lights hit my shit, purple, red, and blue
Tie your f*ckin' hands behind your back, we beheadin' you
Nigga tried to play me, stretch the boy with some baby food
If I was a '90s baby, why'd y'all pull out eighty twos?
If I can't get him, I'ma blick his mans
Blick his mans, nigga play a game, blow a whistle fan
Whistle fan, rich as a bitch, f*ck 'bout what you sayin'
What you sayin', bitch tried to slap me, sister, get them hands
Get them hands, f*ckin' back to back, finna get her ran
Get her ran, poppin' at his feet, make that nigga dance
Nigga dance, choose or you pick a side
Pick a side, she ain't suckin' dick, bitch, go get a ride

You the type to go down with Instakill
The RP hit me right away, this bitch an insta pill
If he post the drop on Live, we slidin', that's an Insta' drill
We is not the same, you post on finsta, I be in the field
White bubble Moncleezy lookin' like the Michelin Man
New crib, I'm in the big house just like a Michigan fan
Kalamazoo, Flint, Saginaw, A2
Mackinac down to the city, I be everywhere in Michigan, man
He ain't say a word when we caught him, but he pronounced dead
Finna drop a three, a deuce of purple, other ounce red
Shooter on your head like he tryna count dreads
Ayy, slidin' 'round, the whip got more buttons than a remote
Expensive habits, rather sip Wocky than some Patrón
Scammy fans, slide the 201 shit, then I'm gone
Bitch askin' why I'm actin' dumb like she ain't know I'm slow
Like I ain't pour a four
Let me chill and smoke this dope
Remember I ain't make the team, got somethin' to show the coach
Got somethin' to show his ho
You ain't schooled, not a tad bit, and you should-, ayy
You ain't schooled, not a tad bit, and you should go enroll
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, long live $cam, dumbass
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat)
Water, yeah
(Damn, JakeSand)

Free my dog, he 'bout to go from goulash to panna cotta
I don't burn, but if I do, then Adolf hidin' in the ZaZa
I might bulletproof the donkey with Ahura Mazda
They was laughin' at them open mics, I just did The Fonda
Bombed the block with a switch, would've think he Nuge
Opps trash in the bin, why you think they Brute
Jit was talkin' 'bout our generation, shit I can't salute
Oversaturated out the gate, bitch, I don't dilute
And I can't even hear the hecklin' when I'm drinkin' booze
Just Tron, Certified, and I, I'm the first Stooge
I'll poke an opp like Larry Fine, brother Moe too
Went from slidin' stolo, now it's donuts in the showroom
Five racks for a friend, this shit hairy, but I like the style
Jit sweet, I'm talkin' watermelon sugar high
Back-to-back shows, lost my voice, I'm sippin' chamomile
I'm in the Lab one mile away from 8 Mile

Lights hit my shit, purple, red, and blue
Tie your f*ckin' hands behind your back, we beheadin' you
Nigga tried to play me, stretch the boy with some baby food
If I was a '90s baby, why'd y'all pull out eighty twos?
If I can't get him, I'ma blick his mans
Blick his mans, nigga play a game, blow a whistle fan
Whistle fan, rich as a bitch, f*ck 'bout what you sayin'
What you sayin', bitch tried to slap me, sister, get them hands
Get them hands, f*ckin' back to back, finna get her ran
Get her ran, poppin' at his feet, make that nigga dance
Nigga dance, choose or you pick a side
Pick a side, she ain't suckin' dick, bitch, go get a ride

You the type to go down with Instakill
The RP hit me right away, this bitch an insta pill
If he post the drop on Live, we slidin', that's an Insta' drill
We is not the same, you post on finsta, I be in the field
White bubble Moncleezy lookin' like the Michelin Man
New crib, I'm in the big house just like a Michigan fan
Kalamazoo, Flint, Saginaw, A2
Mackinac down to the city, I be everywhere in Michigan, man
He ain't say a word when we caught him, but he pronounced dead
Finna drop a three, a deuce of purple, other ounce red
Shooter on your head like he tryna count dreads
Ayy, slidin' 'round, the whip got more buttons than a remote
Expensive habits, rather sip Wocky than some Patrón
Scammy fans, slide the 201 shit, then I'm gone
Bitch askin' why I'm actin' dumb like she ain't know I'm slow
Like I ain't pour a four
Let me chill and smoke this dope
Remember I ain't make the team, got somethin' to show the coach
Got somethin' to show his ho
You ain't schooled, not a tad bit, and you should-, ayy
You ain't schooled, not a tad bit, and you should go enroll
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia, long live $cam, dumbass
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Danny G, Jakesand, James Johnson IV
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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