Inkredible Lyrics - Singles - Trae

[Verse 1 - Trae] 

Tha Truth back, lets get to bidness 

It'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 

Sixty 'rats or better, nigga ask about me 

Certified gangsta, please 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 rolling 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 they'd like to stutter 

I rank as the king of the city 

It ain't gon' be another 

[Verse 2 - Lil Wayne] 

I'm sending shots, it's happy hour 

I shoot from close range, I'ma 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 looking like Seal nigga 

Then I pull ya card, then I deal wit'cha 

Gamble wit'cha 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 choppas 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 

Ahaha 

And I'm Noah! 

YOUNG MOULA BABY 

[Verse 3 - Rick Ross] 

My money long, my temper short 

My car's 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 kilos, 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 ki', nigga 

I'm living nigga 

Fuck the critics nigga (Fuck 'em) 

Shit is serious nigga 

You hear the lyrics nigga (Yep!) 

Its Ricky nigga