3 Kings 创作者：
Jay Rock

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调：D minor

Verse 1
Am Am 
 
Niggas talking shit when
C C 
 
we step up in the club
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
It's all good 'till you get
hit with a slug
Am Am 
 
Yeah he on the wall,
C C 
 
coughing up blood
Am Am 
 
Should have known not
C C 
 
to fuck with us thugs
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Catch me in the hood, blowing on bud
Am Am 
 
Nig ga, fuck your dollar man,
C C 
 
I'm all about dubs
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Catch me in the kitchen, cooking up drugs
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
[?] I'm all for the bubs

Verse 2
C C 
 
I'm all over the stove like pots and pans
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Hit the corner with the rock,
the Glocks in hand
Am Am 
 
Rock hold more shell
C C 
 
s than a taco stand
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
If I pop, the block hot like a summer jam
Am Am 
 
Damn, I won't hesitate,
C C 
 
to let the pistol whistle
Am Am 
 
Bullets like many missiles,
C C 
 
go straight through your tissue
Am Am 
 
And your momma yelling,
C C 
 
crying sneeze into some tissue
Am Am 
 
I'm like, damn Rock,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
you could have worked out the issue
C C 
 
Really hard in the club without
no bodyguards
Am Am 
 
This where OGs fresh out
C C 
 
the penitentiary are
Am Am 
 
For those who don't know me
C C 
 
don't pretend you're hard
Am Am 
 
Yeah that loud talking shit,
C C 
 
that'll get you scarred
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Left hook, knock your punk
ass on your back
Am Am 
 
Your head busted,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
now it looks like the crack of her as  s
C C 
 
Then I'm back posting up on the ave
Am Am 
 
With the homies smoking and joking,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
counting that cash

Interlude 1
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
I'm like a sound system

Verse 3
C C 
 
bump
base on the block
Am Am 
 
Niggas scheming,
C C 
 
bulletproof doors on the drop
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Well I ain't got a garage, '64 in the lot
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
In the city of god when they bust at the cops
Am Am 
 
I stay with a fed,
C C 
 
always keep me a bitch
Am Am 
 
Always holding a crip,
C C 
 
always keep me a clip
Am Am 
 
Yeah, these niggas like to trip,
C C 
 
I'll send them to their destination
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
To that hot place,
Am Am 
 
you can talk it out with Satan
C C 
 
I'm hot faced,
Am Am 
 
I was blessed with raw game
C C 
 
Bitches fiending for my dick,
Am Am 
 
call me cocaine
In the hood,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
like tall cans and low daddies
C C 
 
I'm so so gutta like ghetto swords
Am Am 
 
and [?] alleys
C C 
 
I'm from CA,
Am Am 
 
but some call it killer Cali
Where we banging,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
get some bitches don't know who their [?] is
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
Twist up dro, laid back like re  cliners
Smoking on five,
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
got me higher than airliners
C C 
 
Yeah it's

Verse 4
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Jay
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
Rock nig gas
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Straight
Am Am 
 
out the
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
projects, Nickerson Gardens
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
DeeJay Dave, I see you my nigga
C C 
 
Fat Boy I see you my nigga
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
Am Am 
 
C C 
 
That's how we
Am Am 
 
do  it here
C C 
 
Top Dawg
Am Am 
 
Entertainment mothafuckas
C C