Reggie Sinatra - 369 (feat. Romanchikku & luvdionn!)

Three, six, nine, like oh she fine
Roll it, till you pass it to me one more time
We roll
So get stoned
And we roll
So get stoned
And to the window
And to the Wall
Until the dank smell leaves my car
And we roll
So get stoned
And we roll
So get stoned
Money make
Chase
Pull up in a fucking lay
Simply gotta count my cash bag
Make it back
Throwing 10,20's on a honey bunny ass
And the brother bout the dues
Forty acres and a mule
How I spend it all on tools
Think to myself, what else could I lose
Love is luck for fools
And if we talking, honey meet my dukes
Or my dick
If the Gucci condom fit
And If we bouncing to my house then the Nikes scratched a bit
Shit
Three, six, nine, like oh she fine
Roll it, till you pass it to me one more time
We roll
And get stoned
And we roll
And get stoned
And to the window
And to the Wall
Until the dank smell leaves my car
We roll
So get stoned
And we roll
So get stoned
Yeah we be chilling, get high as fuck
In side a Bentley truck
Imma go roll it up
Twenty-five bands
Off a swish
And I jump
In her guts
Till i rip em up
Hop off my dick
Like its double dutch
Eren Yeager with the blast
Then she gonna hit me right back, back, back, back
These rappers be acting like know it alls
All they be talking is cap, cap, cap, cap
They heard the tape and they laughed
They laughed
And pussy dudes said it was wack
Ain't no one really said that
I thought it was funny like
Like cat in hat
Rhyme scheme like Dr. Sues
Now they bumping my music
In places I don't know where at
That bitch is inlove with the fame
So I renamed my dick
And I wrote this right after I fapped
Don't get involved with a kid
I'm loose
The tooth
The gap gear I got bout to hit
Post with the Motley crew
The sack
The wood
Your girl pull up, smoke and get hit
Pushing this weight like piston
We up in The Sack doing different positions
These people wonder how I got the vision
I took twenty/twenty and made some additions
Woah Aye
I was tripping
But I'm back now
Got the racks out
Here we go
Aye
Got to many problems
Not feeling right
Losing control
Aye
Violence ain't the only option
We gon talk shit
We gon boast
Aye
Momma told me that I'm popping
To much talking
We gonna blow
You can't see a thing like my last name is Cena
If shawty is fine then I might have to keep her
Broke bitches come back like a golden retriever
I'm just getting started, I keep getting cleaner
Top of the morning to ya nice to meet ya
I hit the gas and I'm high Wiz Khalifa
Running a race, you bitches gotta keep up
Better listen to me when I speak, I'm your teacher
I'm tryna get high with a big booty bitch
But that big booty bitch just be taking a lot
I whip out the nine and I come for the block
She giving me kisses I'm ready to rock
Be afraid of the glock cause it's ready to pop
Couldn't buy all the fucks that I give out of stock
She wondering how many times did I miss
Just take a look at all the albums I dropped
Three, six, nine, like oh she fine
Roll it, till you pass it to me one more time
We roll
And get stoned
And we roll
And get stoned
And to the window
And to the Wall
Until the dank smell leaves my car
We roll
So get stoned
And we roll
So get stoned

Written by:
Abraham Breton, Adnois Breton, Dennis Ballew

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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