Triple Threat

[Intro: KrispyLife Kidd]
This like two, two minutes
Ayy, dreepzeyyy, you got the flame
Uhm, KrispyLife, nigga
Y OG on the beat
Alright, uh
Yo, clako, let's turn it up

[Verse 1: KrispyLife Kidd]
You ain't got enough money to fuck with me, get yo' weight up
It's not my birthday, but I got my cake up
I tell that bitch keep her face down, better ways up
We don't nobody, aimin' for you head, shoot your face up
If ain't nobody outside then we shoot your place up
Uh, that's a whole lot of violence fess
I'm all about my green like I got a Irish dad
I don't fuck with this bitch, all she do is nag
Huh, oh, where you from, nigga?
This shoot every round in a minute, this that one pistol
Get the right attachment and turn this bitch into that onе pistol

[Verse 2: YSR Gramz]
Screw the barrel on that- (A-ah)
Scrеw the barrel on that bitch, it sound like a whistle
I'm shittin' on these niggas, pass me some tissue
Auntie just gave me a pint, you don't know Krispy
I think that bitch [?], why the fuck you kiss her?
I heard they ain't even pop, dawg you gotta beat with a pistol
Bitch I wouldn't fuck you, I wouldn't even fist you
Them fake ass shoes on your feet, them are not official
FN Five-SeveN shoot baby missiles
Baby J talkin', now I make 'em diss you
Free my pops off that sail, I can't wait to get you
I know that nigga wasn't-, alright, alright, a-alright
I know that nigga was not gon' shoot 'cause he showed his pistol

[Interlude: YSR Gramz]
Like I know you all think like I'm high as hell or I just be sayin' shit but, like
A nigga that show his pistol ain't really finna bust that bitch, just think about it, gang I ain't gon' lie
No cap, alright

[Verse 3: Fraudskiii]
Five, tens, twenties, fifties, hunnids, bitch I need it all
Like I'm playin' in the NBA, I'ma fuckin' ball
I treat all my opps like Pokemon, I'ma catch 'em up (Grrrt)
You can be a giant, I'm like David, I'ma knock you off
If you net banging you a tissue 'cause you ultra soft (Uh)
Catch a opp drivin', shoot his tires, make him crash like Paul (Fa-fa-fa-fa)
The homie caught a opp we call him zombie 'cause he tried to crawl
You're the type to snitch on your-, alright
You're the type to snitch on your bros after y'all break the law
I know a white boy who tote 9.'s, we call him Jamal
Back in middle school I used to be suckers in the hall
How the fuck are you a shooter? You be shootin' walls

[Outro: Fraudskiii]
Ph-h-h
How the fuck? You a lame ass dude man