Trae - Inkredible (feat. Lil Wayne, Rick Ross) | Текст песни

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• Trae
• Inkredible (feat. Lil Wayne, Rick Ross)

[Verse 1 - Trae]
The Truth back, lets get to bidness
There’s something unfamiliar
Call it a foreign image
Paint heavily leaking
I guess it wasn’t finished
Riding with something freaky
They tell me she the business
The chain clear, stones never cloudy
60 rats or better, nigga ask about me
Certified gangsta, bitch don’t ever doubt me
Welcome to the streets
You can’t get in without me
I’m Presidential, Obama painted the Vogues black
Toping in the Chevy, top rollin’ back
My life a motion picture, bitch I ain’t gotta act
I send ‘em to your section, nigga hold that
It’s raining scattered bullets
Too late to run for cover, I drain ‘em like Kobe
Then I evacuate to the gutter
On something that’s pokey with looks
And a trunk that like to stutter
I rank as the king of the city
It ain’t gon’ be another

[Verse 2 - Lil Wayne]
Uh, I’m sending shots, it’s happy hour
I shoot from close range, I’mma need a shower
Brains in the sink, body on the counter
Women and the kids, leave ‘em how I found ‘em
I’m a real nigga, stand still nigga
I cut ya face, have ya lookin’ like Seal nigga
Then I pull ya card, then I deal witcha
Gamble witcha life, is this your lucky night?
My bitch so fucking right, every night I fuck her twice
Big boy money bitch, pockets on Charlie Wise
Tatted up, I’m scarred for life
Tell the cops I know all my rights
Got choppers I don’t mean Harley bikes
Drop ‘em like a bag of ice
Shades dark, flag bright
Wallet chain, chrome horse
Hair to the fucking back, call that shit Rosa Parks
Dr. Carter man I gave Hip Hop open heart
Young Money baby aka Noah’s Ark
Haha

And I’m Noah haha
Young Mula baby

[Verse 3 - Rick Ross]
My money long, my temper short
My cars foreign, my dick a boss
The guns new, the beef old
It’s time to come through like never before
Liquid C4, look at me hoe
Look into my eyes, do you see a C.O?
I’m talking kilo’s, time to reload
Map fout ou deyo, “Shut the fuck up” in Creole
Bitch I’m paid up, get ya weight up
Pillow top back, realest shade up
I got them automatics so you know I’m automatic
All my auto’s automatic, you know that’s automatic
What you niggas wanna see
Don’t get caught in the street
I got G’s that’ll wait for a quarter key, nigga
I’m living nigga
Fuck the critics nigga
Shit is serious nigga
You hear the lyrics nigga
It’s Ricky nigga

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