Lyrics:
to wager
He counts them up on missing fingers
Level three, all about me, the numbers decrease by ten again
Level four, reach for the door, the numbers
but I ain't even wet
Introductions passed before we met
I'll like you pic but who are you again
My mind has been conquered
By thoughts that have kept me
Something smelled like you, now I'm back in your room
Trying to figure you out, by the way that you move
I blocked your number, everyone you know
My
Heartache Number One was when you left me
I never knew that I could hurt this way
Heartache Number Two was when you came back again
You came
[Bun-B][Verse 3]
We goin hard in the paint like Carmello (Carmello)
This is for the boys who sip purple and sip yellow (yellow)
Shorty shake ya jelly like
[Bun-B][Verse 3]
We goin hard in the paint like Carmello (Carmello)
This is for the boys who sip purple and sip yellow (yellow)
Shorty shake ya jelly like
the stakes
Can tell by the numbers on my scale we eating great
With my head on a swivel alert at all times
I'm doing what I gotta to protect me and mines
Out
to the devil, I left no F's (Rah)
666, that's the three numbers
That I fuck with
Pull up in tracksuit's, my man dump it
Pigs on the whip
'bout to dash them gloves
Yo,
By God's grace and mama's prayers
Niggas act like they balling, got too much cheddar
But I'm all in, man
Gang, gang, we back
It's our time, man
I have a friend, he's mostly made of paint
And he wakes up, drives to work and straight back home again
He once cut one of my nightmares out
suckas
Imma fuck around and get that bentley truck by the summa
Word around town I'm that number one stunna
Puttin in work so you know we on the come up
Hmm, ah
I see a red door and I want to paint it black
No colors in my life, you better turn them black
I see them walking by dressed in their
her to come thru
She gone leave by 2
So just tell me whats the move
She like what we do
Told her to come thru
She gone leave by 2
Imma paint that bitch
I've got heartaches by the number, a love that I can't win
But the day that I stop counting that's the day my world will end
Heartache number three
the pump fake
Money good, that’s number 8
Clutch time, hard in the paint (Kobe)
Purple and gold, Laker legend
(Killer, killer)
Stone cold, ain’t no question
the numbers?
How much did you sell?
What's the radio spins?
How much shampoo can you sell with
Your face on it and shit?"
Remind me again why we in this shit?
younger
Hit the flint warm my hands by the fire
I burn like parchment
Am I on the decline
Don't wear a watch cuz it makes me remember
Rewinding clocks, was
with iron gates
And 2 GX 460s
In the driveway
Numbers on the whip
Like I'm surrounded
By Crips
But that's just that
Big body Lexus
Swapping mommies
Home Wasn't Built in a Day
Written by Lance Carpenter, Kelli Johnson, Todd Tilghman
In a one bedroom apartment
Over her grandma's garage
Just
of these bitches don't deserve conversations
Bet this 40 paint your block for fives and nines
Sometimes your biggest haters be right there right by your side
'em again
This time it's for the money my nigga
Brooklyn stand up
There's never been a nigga this good for this long
This hood
Or this pop is hot
'em again
This time it's for the money my nigga
Brooklyn stand up
There's never been a nigga this good for this long
This hood
Or this pop is hot
on the TV
And that's about the time she walked away from me
Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three
And are still more amused by TV shows
What
Alright Alright
Vibing in the trap
Yeah Right
Vibing in the trap
Yeah Yeah
I can paint the prettiest picture of you and me
DaVinci couldn't recreate
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