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Threesome Video (MV)






Jay Tee - Threesome Lyrics




[ Featuring P.S.D., Latino Velvet, Mac Lee ]

I told they: Good is pee'as
We just don't give a shit 'bout that huch
If you ain't blowin' don't touch
Orum, capulatin', Playa-Hatas get baddered
Get a suck ass to the pisa and the rest don't matter
Hoochie, Kochie, came down for Uchie, tryin' to clown y'all
Get sourround in Hammer
Southpark re-see downer
N 2Deep and Manish come about them pantses
On the table, on the frigidy, on the couch, on the canvas
Uhmm
Assholes and ellbows tell hoes it's pimpy
Gon' play a huch till I die, so go arach from respect me
Crew thanger, Hoo Banger, Bad braw breathness
And divide hoes like the Looies playa shit forever
I took a flight to Ohio
High oh
Selver header, young sister, but a hoe
Chick is grabbed to a liver
Give a f*ck
Live it up
Lil Huch don't hide it divide it
Make a word

Oh
Best my touch upon the scrill'
Fo' real
Servin' comebacks
Because they seem to love it
Oh, feel nickle thang, relate it
Captain saver
Never huch and trust homie
Shake and fake some phonies
Got the Poni-es
Whizzahs!
On the po-one
H-Spotter
Then I got her
All up in her face
She's straight lace
It's paper chase and taxes to the thirdy
And dressed to impress if the tram-bitch worthy
Don't "Sir" me
No, Biatch
Please
I'ma trees with my cuddies
If it ain't hoes then it's money
Act funny if you want to
Up in the corner to the Country-Club, Crside California
I told you, though, you hit it hoe,
The cloud
If your lungs stick
Coo' thang niggas ain't down with that dumb shit
Not one bitch but two hoes
Big banks and new clothes
It's the path I choose, fo' real, no so choose yours!

Up in a big, blown caddy nine-lighter seville
We ridd'n right on the side and playa fo' real
I got's to skill
So tear it off, kick down, break bread
P.S.D., Mac Lee, Jay Tee - shake phat
International player try'na pass go
Bitch give me your cashflow and everythin' I ask fo'
I make the grass grow greener
Just a little cleaner then the average
V-Town savage
This can be lavage
Plushed out ice-cold
8.1 ain't the nice pay - the prize is sold
So let you pin the loadem in a moudy
Gett'n rowdy
Cousin' rockets
Three motherf*ckers about they pay talkin' shit all day
As up fo' sho' we gon' stay'a
Go to bay'a
Been take a brought down on our way'a

Yeah, you know
A motherf*cker gon' get payed, partner
The gorgers
So we hit the strip
The dick gon' grind
And the mouthpiece will shine
So chock this up as a confirm for kill
By 3 real motherf*ckin' players
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I told they: Good is pee'as
We just don't give a shit 'bout that huch
If you ain't blowin' don't touch
Orum, capulatin', Playa-Hatas get baddered
Get a suck ass to the pisa and the rest don't matter
Hoochie, Kochie, came down for Uchie, tryin' to clown y'all
Get sourround in Hammer
Southpark re-see downer
N 2Deep and Manish come about them pantses
On the table, on the frigidy, on the couch, on the canvas
Uhmm
Assholes and ellbows tell hoes it's pimpy
Gon' play a huch till I die, so go arach from respect me
Crew thanger, Hoo Banger, Bad braw breathness
And divide hoes like the Looies playa shit forever
I took a flight to Ohio
High oh
Selver header, young sister, but a hoe
Chick is grabbed to a liver
Give a f*ck
Live it up
Lil Huch don't hide it divide it
Make a word

Oh
Best my touch upon the scrill'
Fo' real
Servin' comebacks
Because they seem to love it
Oh, feel nickle thang, relate it
Captain saver
Never huch and trust homie
Shake and fake some phonies
Got the Poni-es
Whizzahs!
On the po-one
H-Spotter
Then I got her
All up in her face
She's straight lace
It's paper chase and taxes to the thirdy
And dressed to impress if the tram-bitch worthy
Don't "Sir" me
No, Biatch
Please
I'ma trees with my cuddies
If it ain't hoes then it's money
Act funny if you want to
Up in the corner to the Country-Club, Crside California
I told you, though, you hit it hoe,
The cloud
If your lungs stick
Coo' thang niggas ain't down with that dumb shit
Not one bitch but two hoes
Big banks and new clothes
It's the path I choose, fo' real, no so choose yours!

Up in a big, blown caddy nine-lighter seville
We ridd'n right on the side and playa fo' real
I got's to skill
So tear it off, kick down, break bread
P.S.D., Mac Lee, Jay Tee - shake phat
International player try'na pass go
Bitch give me your cashflow and everythin' I ask fo'
I make the grass grow greener
Just a little cleaner then the average
V-Town savage
This can be lavage
Plushed out ice-cold
8.1 ain't the nice pay - the prize is sold
So let you pin the loadem in a moudy
Gett'n rowdy
Cousin' rockets
Three motherf*ckers about they pay talkin' shit all day
As up fo' sho' we gon' stay'a
Go to bay'a
Been take a brought down on our way'a

Yeah, you know
A motherf*cker gon' get payed, partner
The gorgers
So we hit the strip
The dick gon' grind
And the mouthpiece will shine
So chock this up as a confirm for kill
By 3 real motherf*ckin' players
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: RONALD RAY BRYANT, JAMES ANDREW TRUJILLO, ARTURO MOLINA
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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