lirik lagu dorrough music - ice cream paint job (remix)
[intro: dorrough] {snoop}
hah! {west coast, baby..}
yeah, remix! this time i say
yeah, buddy – live good, eat good
old school chevy to a cadillac fleetwood
got the inside – (black!), and the outside (black!)
thinkin ’bout a maserati, but i rather ride (‘lac)
a.c. blow (whaaat?!), like wind chill (chill!)
paint drippin like the rain on a windshield
[hook]
cream on the inside, clean on the outside (remix! hey!)
cream on the inside, clean on the outside (remix! hey!)
cream on the inside, clean on the outside
ice-ice cream, i-i-i-ice cream paint job
cream on the inside, clean on the outside (that girl…al-rite)
cream on the inside, clean on the outside (that girl…al-rite)
cream on the inside, clean on the outside
ice-ice cream, i-i-i-ice cream paint job
[verse 1 – dorrough]
m-m-m-mama black, daddy black
uncle black, granny black, catch me in a cadillac
(cadillac) say, ridin on a foreign ti’
wit some ice cream paint, got the shoes and i had to match
my car, yo we stunt like that (like that)
down in dallas, texas, yeah it’s crunk like that
all i gotta do is this, drop the top and show the wrist
and i can pull a bad chick off eye contact
yeaaaaaaa – it’s ya, it’s ya, it’s ya boy dorrough
i got a wood grain wheel and a wood grain flo’
paint job, fresh sprayed, pop trunk, might wave
yeah, buddy, i’m paid, umm, everybody know
that getting money is the mission, it’s the auto clone magician
0-9, but i drive a 0-12 expedition
wit a auto-start ignition, fo’ fifteens hit it
wit a sign on the back say “let’s go fishing”
[hook]
[verse 2 – snoop dogg]
yeah, west coast n-gga
cream on the inside, clean on the outside
twenty-fo’ on the ol’ schools sittin up high (high)
push – i hit the gas, f-ck a red light
all chrome chevy signs on my tailpipe
i smash out doggy dogg live the boss’ life
show these n-ggas what it cost and how to floss it right
they hear the song and they jerk to it all night
euro grill, candy paint dripping off white (drip, drip, drip..)
yeah, we got the streets turned up
purp in my blunt, brown in my cup
boat motor in my engine, 15s’ in my trunk
ice creams’ on my feet, i’mma f-ck the streets up
(f-ck it up!) wet paint job, shift kit, no clutch
pocket fulla money wit some hustle boy chucks
sugar coat seats, soft white crust
they say they ridin clean, but they ain’t got it like us!
[hook]
[verse 3 – nipsey hu$$le]
it’s 15s’ in the trunk, let my beat bang (yep!)
half of chicken on my neck, let my chain hang (yep!)
four fifty yellow rock’ll make the -ss sw-ng
chevy tuned up, bangin hu$$le is my last name
for the rap game, still us in the fast lane
pulled up at the spot, parked the regal on the gr-ss mayne
swisher sweets same color as the wood grain
they say, “why you leave it running?” i say “cuz i’m in the hoooood, mayne~!”
clean on the ourside, cream on the inside
ask around, bet they tell you that i been fly
way befo’ xzibit show, i had a pimp ride
and “all money in” is the motto that we live by
look, sh-t kept gettin betta fo’ me
you hatin on me? it’s whatever, i get cheddar, homie
i’m well-paid so the people know me
ridin wood grain and leather only
hussle
[hook]
[verse 4 – jim jones]
splash – (candy bought) i’m drippy
car so clean that the paint looks slippy (hold on!)
caught the swag flu so i got these n-ggas sick-y
coney ice cream the way the girl started l!cking
(baskin robbins) give her the shovel the way she diggin me
(dig that!) victory – (ow!) just the b.i.g. in me
yeah, my game fly, i make the nasty girls get wit me
(nasty!) and after the telly, it’s all history
(gone!) chickens – rotisserie
we can make it snow motherf-cker, better get your skis (we got it!)
told her turn it up as i hit the speed
push the head down, word is bond as i hit the weed
(uh-ohhhhhh)
[verse 5 – soulja boy]
yeah shawty, soulja boy big dawg
black-on-black lamborghini, ice cream paint job
wooosh! black card bank card
so much money, look like i had the bank robbed
flow cajin, spicy punchline
disrespect me, get jumped like the lunch line
t-tanic swag like i’m standin on a boat
man ya boy’s got money, but your flow still broke
no pad, no pen i’m goin ing
flyin down the highway, blowing on a kush-ington
i’m gettin money like i never would believe
so many tattoos that my skin cain’t breathe
i’m gettin old money but i’m a youngsta
my swag presidential, make obama wanna sponsor me
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