Lyrics:
a chalk line
Now what the style ain’t
You tell me how well the child paint, Turner
A page in a book
See if the child who paints the house also paint looks
and drive
Until we found a town far enough away
And we talk and window shop
'Til I've forgotten all their names
I don't know who I'm gonna talk to now
Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh
Big black nigga, and an icy watch
Shoes on the coupe, bitch I got a Nike shop
Counts the profits you could
rolled, that dream I'm holding
In the candy Caddy' with with ninety molding
Bought a drop, put it in the shop
But everything I got, on that bitch stolen
to paint the picture your mind being the canvas
I take you spiritually high, your plane never be landing
No navigation locating that spot
When I hit that
like John Lennon
Buried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh
Big black nigga and an icy watch
Shoes on the coupe, that got a Nike shop
Count
'round the frames
Your songs an' your poems an' workin' folks' dreams
Will flame with our greatest of names
Your name I'll paint on my porters
My
"That Ain't Nothing"
(feat. Curren$y, Romeo, Silkk)
[Intro: Silkk, Master P]
Yeah
You ain't gotta go to no car lot
Come and shop at the garage
classy hot nights an much denim
Mall, wall to wall shop till the last ending
More stores galore, next door, more spendin
Gucci shops, prada buy rocks, even
Looking at my rollie, it's about that time
For me to paint pictures on
The walls of your mind
These quality masterpieces are hard to find
Swap from 6
bustin' down a Philly, finna fill it with a 20
That liquor got me swervin', E&J is what we sippin'
Just pulled it out the shop, so that paint still drippin'
bands
Paint looking like Candyland, it's Sllimm the South Paw triggerman
Flippin work and whippin weight, rock up, roll and get the papes
Chop them hoez
to shop at Vim
Now I take it real easy, the hood believe me (okay)
I don't mean Cover Girl when I say, "Easy breezy" (kyuh, kyuh)
Jiminy Cricket, let
peeled like paint
Bottoms up, nigga, give it all ya got
From the bottom to the top, or get shanked, get shot
Provocative footage of this lyrical abuse
Came straight out the trailer park screaming
I'm proud to shop at K-Mart, and it became art
And I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are
To this
oath
Sweaty palms have on niggas who be touchin' dope
Aventadors, smell the Pyrex in the air
I'm dealin' raw, D-boys so debonair
In the barber shop, it's
that I would make a killing
I told y'all I blow like Mount St. Helen's
I told y'all I'm the truth, they paint me like a villain
Sick on paper,
and lace
She looked pale "Yo",I thought it was paint on her face
She said it was the last house,corner rockin' bird lane
But you might need a cross
Got dammit man when my rubberband tires stop
I bounce back like rubberband and
Slingshot to the top, fucker
You might see me in a tire shop
I am letting
like
Uncle Luke house
Roll so many O's, it's just "Ooo" now
Andretti, couple more Chevy's
In the paint shop, they almost ready
When they hit the streets,
Mary Long is a hypocrite
She does all the things that she tells us not to do
Selling filth from a corner shop
And knitting patterns to the high
Mary Long is a hypocrite
She does all the things that she tells us not to do
Selling filth from a corner shop
And knitting patterns to the high
gold and some diamond rings
Do you wanna ride, wanna ride with me
This is not an Uber you can slide for free
Porsche paint look like ivory
She just wants
Mike Jones, Jones
Mike Jones, Jones
[Hook - 2x Big Moe]
I stay flossing in that candy paint
Blowin dank
Sippin drank on 84 swangers
Tearin up
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