In The Paint Testo

(Verse 1: Wicked) Pick up trucks Big yay Mac 11s Thrust out hoop Bad hoes 357s I heard the word Powder head 50 grams I'm in the cradle slangin' Billows and cocaine I fit the lamer I admire ya Scrub you to death like my Pit bull terrier See I got something for all y'all Wanna be stalions It's the magazines Black stallions Every numbry Every punk Have you ever seen inside Of a Regal trunk? My life is worse than any hand in poker Come on and pull me bitch I ain't no joker I ain't that nigga that rap But don't want nothin' Saying he never had nothin' So he don't need nothin' Watch him blow holes to his salary his whole round Pop a clown And leave him dead in this dope town And after that Beat his head with a pipe Kill for the hype Kill for my strike I ain't Jamaican but I Get a pussy oil (?) Left him cold Take his soul (chorus) We in the notherfuckin paint Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, My nigga Nino in the paint Big D, he in the paint I'm in the paint... (Verse 2: Wicked) Met a pair of the dank Keep seeing myself In the bank Yeah i oughta' get a full-time And do the right thing I got a full-time Slangin' cocaine My brain's fucked up off them Sniper nuggets Late nights fuckin' And wicked(!) book it See a bumper in the hood Won't be faded man it's fucked 'Cause I made it See killin's what we do In the dec See killin is normal For respect I gotta grind down to the local See some work that I got From my uncle See my whole family We in the paint You wanna trap in my hood But you can't Pick up trucks Mac 11s Plushed out hoops 357s Quick to bust you With this black stallion And falling victim to a trigger Of a little stallion 'Cause them young boys Be weedin' and dustin' Instead the cops Are being busted They call this schools Got them filled with greed But a bitch don't know me I'm hard to read When a bitch don't know me I squeeze with speed When a bitch don't know me I fool the breeze (?) (chorus) (3rd Verse: Nino) I lifted two 'keys But both of them were fake Fuck Nino couldn't tell Even if he checked Hop in the hooptie Headed to Augusta Lookin' for my man The perfect busta Check his dough I got 36 for 2 Send some real work Back to my crew Back down the way I heard them niggas want game back Catch you like a scar I'm gonna crack your head with a car jack See he forced that judgement I know you want it slower Heard about two killings I did in Colordo Picked up bad habits When I was younger My pops always told me Get a fool's drama (?) But I'd never thought He'd take this shit this far Killed a motherfucker outside a sports bar I ain't even flinched He hit the road I shot him again Then took his gold You know my Wicked He saw the whole thing I told you before 357s Pick up trucks Big yay Mac 11s (chorus)