This is a song about "Drain threes"

My pistols represent mebust until my rounds emptyback for the street fame

I strain to remain being in reign, no need to feign as i drain my champagne

I’ve seen this young’un on the train, i had to pick his brain

Spray arrangements made to slay and drain their brains 'til they insane

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

The ball in my fingers. i be shooting threes outside all day with my hittas and i

Come see me in my court, scoring them threes.

Nigga, i'm a bastard, i fuck with chord keys

In case i don't get intell all my people i'm a ridahnobody cries when we die

The ball in my fingers. i be shooting threes outside all day with my hittas and i

All this icin i'm ashamed, look like lightnin' in the chain

He was just another kid down the drain, drowning the pain in cocaine.

I got ones, threes, all the sheez you wish your js were as fresh as these

She like me from that no hands but i'mma need her to use no teeth

Makes bitches in threes all drop to their knees

I'm everything that they call nice