"3 Stripe Killaz" as written by Matthew Seligman, Jalil Hutchins, John Rivas, Y and Thomas Dolby....
I'll be that sacrafical dog nigga
Cowboy, Made Men, thug nigga
Specialize through the job nigga
Three hundred and fifity seven degrees Fahrenheit on the thermostat
When I burn the clap at night, Star War
Millennium guns, titanium
Strap bombs on my back like them Iranians
Surgacial gloves, murderin' thug
Get the worst when I bug this verse in a slug
Blaze wit eight clips, rip like some shit off the Matrix
Boston, state of mine, stay sick
Live rounds, five pounds of heat yo
'Cause most of ya'll killas ain't down to beat
Spit digital depth, studio crime, shitty flow
My dirty work get you murk in my Simi yo
Twice style bring it foul to ya life style
Floss in my neck of (Yo!) da woods (Yo!) I put your lights out (Yo!)

I throw my grees high,
Red black silver tab Levi, stay high
Buy the around in a gray five
I call my niggas on my hands feet, voice recanition
Recognize by high park camition
My black be hat, tilted a lil' to the left
Maniac Boston Mass. nigga modo life or death
I'm blowin' hash 'til my very last breath
And I won't stop buckin' 'til there's no one left

Spit the hot shit for niggas on the block down on rock shit
All about money and skins, and burnt chocolate
Three stripe killaz out the gates of Boston
Run up on this, run wit caution

Out of town Roxbury niggas blust shots
South Van High Park stay hot
J.P. Dorchester smoke trees
Providence Springfield niggas toke heat

Fedaralli most wanted, P.P.V. most tonted
Try to put my head in a gotlent
I'm off pro V, roll freely in a 850
And bang my own shit in my CD deck
Wit ten thou worth of ice around my neck
'Cause I have to pay the price for the love and respect
I walk through the bricks of Kevlar, long sleeve
'Cause ain't no honor amongst thieves
Mad raps runnin' for cheese and get caught in the trap
Suspect 'til prospect for guns and ones
I represent for crooks, killers and dope dealers
See live hustlers turn to job squealers
Can't hold water so they pissed on a nigga
Caught in a quiz now, go figa
My mind setters get the paper and jet
And anybody in the way will gettin' wet
Or help for a Hanson ransom, if they won't pay
Blast 'em, we mash 'em wit four pounds
With devices that silence the sound
With no faces, no trace or no plates

Spit the hot shit for niggas on the block down on rock shit
All about money and skins, and burnt chocolate
Three stripe killaz out the gates of Boston
Run up on this, run wit caution

Out of town Roxbury niggas blust shots
South Van High Park stay hot
J.P. Dorchester smoke trees
Providence Springfield niggas toke heat

Spit the hot shit for niggas on the block down on rock shit
All about money and skins, and burnt chocolate
Three stripe killaz out the gates of Boston
Run up on this, run wit caution

New York Cali motherfuckers bust shots
New Orleans Tennessee niggas stay hot
D.C. Philly motherfuckers smoke trees
Detroit Carolina niggas toke heat

Out of town Roxbury niggas blust shots
South Van High Park stay hot
J.P. Dorchester smoke trees
Providence Springfield niggas toke heat

New York Cali motherfuckers bust shots
New Orleans Tennessee niggas stay hot
D.C. Philly motherfuckers smoke trees
Detroit Carolina niggas toke heat


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"3 Stripe Killaz" as written by John Rivas Jalil Hutchins

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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3 Stripe Killaz song meanings
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