Lyrics:
Yeah I'm a ten
Give you a taste of what you had before
I'm a post this picture make you wish I was yours
Pose for the camera flick yeah
Bomb ass
quite over mine
And I’m over sleepin’ by the phone for a come on over call
Shadow stains of picture frames painted all over the wall
And I’m far from
made by Quincy Jones
Leave a message by the beep and I still won't come to the phone
I just made an easy 50 simply running through a show
Aye please
two new ones
When they plastered those dip-shit's Dylan
Klebold and Eric Harris'
Pictures on the front of every
Newspaper don't be surprised if
Every
painter)
And I jus love it man (Lovely Daze like this)
I love paintin' these pictures for the hood
You dig (that's where I'm at Eastside)
Its Dip-Set,
Very flattering however they even
Liked the single "Love
You Till Tuesday" i've got a copy
Of the American album and
They've printed the picture
A little
down to twenty, that's how many wrecks I see there every day
Caused by the girl wearing nothing but a smile
And a towel in the picture on the billboard
hoes in this house!
Square nigga with greasy raps
At the front door better let him in
I'm tryna get to where Weezy at
I'm a young George Jefferson
It's
like, yup do that thing you do (I am)
What you mean? baby gurl I need some liquor too
Aye, she need a picture too, Big Ben she want a picture too
I
that two hours ago
I'm drinkin' alone
I know every song on that jukebox
I know how to hang up the phone
And I know that if I call on George Jones
I
interruptions
The revolution will not show you pictures
Of Nixon blowing a bugle
And leading a charge by John Mitchell
General Abrams & Mendel Rivers
To eat hog
Armstrong.
Saint's marched right in from my Close and Play.
When I was a kid
I had a little picture
And I looked at that picture
All the time.
Painted by
Training generation fallout
Waterfall bricklayer pincushion crawl out
There's smoke in my iris
But I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids
So
a nigga will never get the crown
But if I get your picture will I own her lick her down
Then a lick her down will never be a nigga down
And her beating
out there, I could use it right now
You know, I feel pretty good, but that ain't sayin' much
I could feel a whole lot better
If you were just here by my
hundred trucks
There’ll be skinny dippin’, beer drinkin’, smokin’ fat ones
I think I hear Willy, George Jones or Hank
Buddy, make them guitars twang
Repeat
the back and she fainted
I threw on my mask and I skated
A trace on her face from a picture I painted
Set me a pace and I patiently made it out
Take
When you see me, you gon' try to avoid me
(You must was geeking)
I just might take a Perc' and then go turbo
Turn into Boston George by my peso
I
on the ave
Hoppin' out the DBS, gеttin' to the bag
If you gettin' in my way then
I'm gеttin' to the mag (You know)
True story (Yeah) it's too gory (Yeah)
let them fall
Take them down stone by stone
Revealing the colors I've painted
Oh all of this time is not wasted
And I choose to stop being jaded by it
picture me balling, painted a picture and I was just talking
How bad you want it cause I see you walking
Niggas in trouble like principle office
Thought I
Kostya I'll fight you living as a Tszyu
I'm living in the Zoo like George from Pentridge
I've cut laps with who
Speak in rhythm mostly forgiven
Mother
Lil John
Ah, ayy
Ugh, huh
Suh, shuh
Jones, Jooo
Bitches
Too much all of that goddamn shit, player
Just ballin'
I'm so tired of ballin',
cold ones, leave your worries behind
I'll sing some Waylon Jennings or a little George Jones
Play you anything you want to help you lighten that load
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