lirik lagu fabolous - takin' pictures
feat. freck billionaire, paul cain, red cafe
{-“gangsta grizzill…” echoes-}
[red cafe]
you know all we do is count money and touch b-tches right?
gangsta grillz…
the money on the wood, the b on the hood
so what i talk i live, let it be understood
the smell is so good, presidential on the street
you know a n-gga never put a pencil on the beat
freak, irish spring fresh, at the springfest
perfect attendence, motherf-cker we bling best
huh? this a bossed up king set
it’s r, cain, ‘loso and my mane freck
can’t be cloned i rise like baked flour
can’t be stoned i’m high as the sears tower
live by the code, ride don’t dare cower
24 straight hours i’m jack bauer
punish the block, with the milk white powder
enough water to give the borrough a light shower
enough hammers to drip drip and cause thunder
i’m just here to get the +bread+ i ain’t talkin +wonder+
but the feds takin pictures of me
they lean like it’s on syrup need a picture of me
yeah, i’m so brooklyn, i scream april pay
i’m so flatbush, i’m labor day
i’m the pie baker, i’m doin cakes today
i’m gettin rid of the weight, i’m ricki lake today
it’s the fi-di-di-di-d-mn on your cam
murderrrah, to make them boys blam on ya
[fabolous]
i was the one that’ll flash ’em, i’d rather buck ’em
most n-ggas’ll stash ’em, i’d rather tuck ’em
i either cl cl-ss ’em, or rover truck ’em
and ten drive right past ’em, like motherf-ck ’em
see the game’s like wall street
i watch the ups and downs like the stock betters
i’m velveeta with it, still gettin block cheddar
i’m with the rock shredders, glock out of the box getters
come through like katrina, they call ’em the block wetters
{“gangsta!”} brrap, brrap, thanks to the rock setters
i’m shinin, reclinin on this maybach’s leather
i’m in the rich young mock sweater, block letters
nike airs, croc leather, who rocks better
ask greg street ’bout the las veg’ suite
the presidential joint with the ronald reag’ sheets
they either throw salt, or think it’s nutmeg sweet
so i keep the heat where the stomach and the legs meet
it’s ‘loso croft, you can call me tomb raider
we break in homes, we the living room raiders
sn-tch wifey, come back for the groom later
throw her in the back of the van like she on “room raiders”
ha ha~! the rookie n-ggas pay homage (what the b-tches do?)
the b-tches throw the box at me like vonage
the four hors-m-n – arn, ole, flair and tully
n-gga this fully, ski-mask ya skully
[paul cain]
i’m a rich young boss, gettin money is my occpation
my net worth numbers look like china’s population
i’m a hustler by blood n-gga not relations
stutter gang cain put a stop to your operation
stop debatin, i’m one of the hardest bar for bar (cain!)
constantly splurgin, i can match the dealers car for car
n-gga the god a star, shinin like a audemars
some n-ggas marked with scars y’all know who these artists are
but me i ride different, i ain’t with the dry snitchin
i ain’t like these guys b-tchin, ship jumpin and side switchin
i keep some live fish and all of my grind pies flippin
i’m ’bout a dollar, i stress it in every rhyme written
some n-ggas try trippin, walkin driveby grippin
keep the four-five clip in, never catch me high and slippin
(not me n-gga!) the kind of boss you might die if you try stickin
same dude that tried to hit and everytime missed me
i’m untouchable, teflon b-tch
see me comin through, you better strap a vest on qiuck
the rumor is he g-ssed up, on some exxon sh-t
not at all, take a shot at paul, the tec’s gon’ spit
muh’f-cker!
[freck billionaire]
yeah, yeah, yeah
i’m west philly freck, yes i rock the best ice
i lay my trap down like i’m tryin to catch mice
and you would think i went to flight school
i’m freshman like the first year of high school
foreign vehicles – yes, i can get ’em homes
two of everything – yes, i get ’em cloned
you meet your maker if you play with my checks
testarossa, testaverde man i play in them jets
freck – i f-ck dime b-tches (what else) i’m a dom pitcher
(what else?) my andre ag-ssis is older than your prom picture
i take it back, got the barkleys with the strap
the red nosed pit sh-t, barkin with the strap
got work in the hood, loan sharkin with the crack
i stay away from known snitches narc’n in the trap
you f-ggots, n-ggas gettin tats tryin to make they faces scary
i shoot your tear drop n-gga, like jason terry
six-four chevy, got it laced in cherry
the red wheels too, don’t bring no hatin near me
to keep it real, i’m just glad to be here
y’all frown on the ground, we laugh in the lair
n-ggas throw shade at us cause they mad at the glare
you’ll hear clappin like the hova show at madison square
yeah, that’s how i eat now, see they got the paid homes
i make my change in the booth i’m like a pay phone
i’m a +slim thug+, the boss man fellas
ya’ll n-gga like l.a., y’all los angeles/lost-n-jealous
check it, the ver two, my phone cost eleven thou’
you betta warn a brother like kevin liles
you lookin at a n-gga, who done sold ‘caine
i put the purple in the air like +soul plane+
rap n-ggas thinkin like “d-mn what kind of lane he in?”
switched the black card from plastic to t-tanium
i spit the “a” cl-ss lines, they spit “b” sh-t
spit that “b” sh-t, you never gon’ be sh-t
see how i “c” sh-t, i’m bowin wth the “d” sh-t
got plenty b-tches down in philly on that “e” sh-t
i say “f” n-ggas cause i’m on some “g” sh-t
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