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Текст (слова) песни: King Tee - 3 Strikes Ya Out



{*whispered*}

Love me.. give me love..

Give me love food..

Give me love, so that I can.. kill..

Give me love, because I can.. kill..

Hes not real.. (the devil) and she must die..

Die.. (he is the son of man, he is the son of God)

{*beat drowns out whispered vocals*}

[king tee]

Three strike youre out theyre makin niggaz behave

No more slaps on the wrist gettin 90 days

Welcome to the next level, its the new world order

Snatch ya like a tractor, might kill ya for a quarter

I put that on my moms, thats on everything I love

Nigga what? catch a l, make you cry like a dove

So sucka free is the only way for me

You dont get paid just for bein o.g.

Weve been had, weve been tricked, weve been played

Right when we, went left, for what? we shoulda stayed

Stressed all the homies just to show they mean business

Rushed em with the quickness, killed em with the sickness

Tried to save his life, give him cpr, huh

Somethin for the lungs, fat african drums

So clear up your sinus and keep your nose clean

Khakis so hot it makes the one-time stop

[chorus]

Three strikes, youre out, then a nigga pays

We in the cage, black man is bein slayed

Three strikes, youre out, then a nigga pays

We in the cage, black man is bein slayed

[king tee]

Get with the lyrical miracle whippin up

Gingerbread cookies out you rookies, huh

I cant stands no more, grab the floor

Hit the deck when I let loose the tec (cmon)

nique, freak any beat nigga

Westside 106 (? ) street, uhh

The locos, chocolate like cocoa

Get your punk-ass balled up in the trash (ahh!)

You stepped on my stars, motherfucker say sorry

This wild styles like lion country safari

This is for my locs back at the ponderosa

Check my file, bring it to trial

Get with that new, ninety-fo shit

Yes its funky like a jackass, dont even trip

I got pages and pages of metaphoric phrases

Too complex for the human eye to catch

Its the, gangsta boogie, do you want a example

Or do you just wanna taste a sample?

Out of control, gone, warped, zoned, toned

Hand me the heater, I need the speakers

Sparks, flames, no name but peep game

Smoke like a choo-choo train

Its the criminal minded nigga king tee

With the westside riders, comin creepin crawlin like spiders

Weve been bit by the dog, call the catcher stretcher

Judge fletcher betcha, raise your blood pressure

The unsolved mystery, mixed up our history

Put us in the twist, we no longer exist, like

.. dinosaurs dissapeared, then its like

.. mine and yours dissapear, so its like

Servin soon, here comes your doom

Right when the world go ka-boom, so am i

Sane, or, sick in the brain?

Or do everybody style sound the same? (yep)

[chorus] - 2x

[outro]

Yeahh... beat terrorist.. (? )

Tr, the funk ignitor

My nigga king tee with the funky west shit right?

Check this out..

Beat terrorist, beat terrorist, beat terrorist, beat terrorist, (? )

 

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