October / 3 Storms lyrics by JID - original song full text. Official October / 3 Storms lyrics, 2020 version | LyricsMode.com
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JID – October / 3 Storms lyrics

[Verse 1: J.I.D.]
I had a dream, had a dream
Seen things, tryna paint a scene
Lot of weed so I don't really dream
More like a kush coma cuz this shit was distinct
Yea, I ain't go too deep just to tell you I'll be the king by the end of the week
Exit the stage to your left, take that front row seat, you've been impeached
She wet them sheets when I rap offbeat
JID DiCaprio, put a cap in your soul, dig deep
That nigga a fool, he shot the nigga midweek
Couldn't sleep for a week and he still on the streets
I'm just another man in the mind from the East
Had to put down the cleats when I picked up the beats
Rapping under my helmet, they throwing hail marys
Hellbent on being the best, I had to pick one so tell me somebody
Nah, that's just combat for you wombats
Your niggas react like tomcats to a strong bat
My niggas just tell me they want that so they hunt that
Taunt that until it's in a lunch sack, greatness
Get your show or your stage ripped, going ape shit
I'm just a nigga from the 6, hop off the grave-ship
Slave-shift, great shit, momma I made it
And I hope it never fades but it will one day
In the days that y'all got to suck seeds to fucking succeed
I'm in my all black tuxedo, hair nappy
JID Buckwheat
My girl tryna leave cuz she probably tryna fuck me
Probably tryna puff weed

[Interlude: J.I.D]
Blood on the leaves, blood on the leaves
They killing niggas for drugs, that's blood on the weed
Some dumb shit

[Verse 2: Johnny Venus]
Initial, Check
Sweat drippin down my neck
Anybody's guess what a nigga gon do next
First chair, I can't rest
Middle names yet I'm anxious
These niggas ain't about they Hanes yet
Nightmares, I can't breath
Pain test, asteroid, I came blessed
Still, Spill Vill til they sorting out my will
Lehman Brothers, Goldman Sachs, til they sorting out my deal
Southwest, where they sort it out with steel
Carnegie, Rockefeller, head out in Ben Hill
Hotter than that TEC that he caught off a deal
Had to keep him safe, keep his body count nil
Crazy like that man Joey Bad back in South By, standing next to strangers
He stepping on my J's but it ain't nothing, I'm humble
Can't wait to grab the microphone and make that thing run, tho
Drove 5 states just for 15 minutes
All through the hate just for 15 minutes
Make it even worse dog, yea we ain't hit it
Conscious up ended
Face so offended
Drugs help me blend it though
So now I'm high and low, you know
Tryna get a hoe, life reciprocals
She beg don't let her thighs go
I beg don't let my eyes close

[Verse 3: Doctur Dot]
Uh Huh
Come sit beside a suicide survivor
You can die tonight, bruh
You can die tonight, bruh
You can die tonight, bruh
Won't nobody find ya body if I hide ya
Lose ya like a lighter
Always been evasive when it came to conversation
Fuck whatever question you asking off top
Keep it locked like the ness monster freaking out the Scots
God is the best sponsor of my freaky thoughts, ooo wee
She's a freaky girl, She's a leaky faucet
On my semi tall shit
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy naw kids
What that got you feeling so important
Of course that's some bullshit
Got a following from these recordings
And now them courses in college, kinda pointless
Whatever, I enjoyed fucking every little spoiled bitch
Daddy had your life planned out 'fore you was born bitch and your rebellion was taking long dick
It's the nocturnal, Doc-turnal, hotbox burner, popping like cob kernel, Cobb County Counts
Always fucking with a dark person filthier than Pac murder files in a pile of dirty towels
Some real rabble rousers in your house
Cut the lights, close the curtains
Couldn't clean the bloody sheets cuz we drank all the detergent
Masturbating, so perverted
Only take it if you serve it
Only thank you if it's perfect
You forget this-ugh-like honey bun, let that pussy cum right on my tongue
I'll leave you undone
Lighten up, thunder to come
It's a conundrum, why you still trying to run even though we know your body is numb?
Niggas flexing like the party was fun cuz the populars attended
Blah blah, fuck them niggas
Underdogs are better winners
Bet a miller I could get your bitch then get her wetter, clitter than them pitter patter strokes that you give her
Spillage Village

Lyrics taken from /lyrics/j/jid/october_3_storms.html

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