Takin' Pictures

Feat. Freck Billionaire, Paul Cain, Red Cafe {*"Gangsta Grizzill..." echoes*} [Red Cafe] You know all we do is count money and touch bitches right? Gangsta Grillz... The money on the wood, the B on the hood So what I talk I live, let it be understood The smell is so good, Presidential on the street You know a nigga never put a pencil on the beat Freak, Irish Spring fresh, at the SpringFest Perfect attendence, motherfucker we bling best Huh? This a bossed up king set It's R, Cain, 'Loso and my mane Freck Can't be cloned I rise like baked flour Can't be stoned I'm high as the Sears Tower Live by the code, ride don't dare cower 24 straight hours I'm Jack Bauer Punish the block, with the milk white powder Enough water to give the borrough a light shower Enough hammers to drip drip and cause thunder I'm just here to get the +Bread+ I ain't talkin +Wonder+ But the feds takin pictures of me They lean like it's on syrup need a picture of me Yeah, I'm so Brooklyn, I scream April pay I'm so Flatbush, I'm Labor Day I'm the pie baker, I'm doin cakes today I'm gettin rid of the weight, I'm Ricki Lake today It's the Fi-di-di-di-damn on your cam Murderrrah, to make them boys blam on ya [Fabolous] I was the one that'll flash 'em, I'd rather buck 'em Most niggas'll stash 'em, I'd rather tuck 'em I either CL class 'em, or Rover truck 'em And then drive right past 'em, like motherfuck 'em See the game's like Wall Street I watch the ups and downs like the stock betters I'm Velveeta with it, still gettin block cheddar I'm with the rock shredders, Glock out of the box getters Come through like Katrina, they call 'em the block wetters {"GANGSTA!"} BRRAP, BRRAP, thanks to the rock setters I'm shinin, reclinin on this Maybach's leather I'm in the Rich Young mock sweater, block letters Nike Airs, croc leather, who rocks better Ask Greg Street 'bout the Las Veg' suite The Presidential joint with the Ronald Reag' sheets They either throw salt, or think it's nutmeg sweet So I keep the heat where the stomach and the legs meet It's 'Loso Croft, You can call me Tomb Raider We break in homes, we the living room raiders Snatch wifey, come back for the groom later Throw her in the back of the van like she on "Room Raiders" Ha ha~! The rookie niggas pay homage (what the bitches do?) The bitches throw the box at me like Vonage The Four Horsemen - Arn, Ole, Flair and Tully Nigga this fully, ski-mask ya skully [Paul Cain] I'm a Rich Young boss, gettin money is my occpation My net worth numbers look like China's population I'm a hustler by blood nigga not relations Stutter Gang Cain put a stop to your operation Stop debatin, I'm one of the hardest bar for bar (CAIN!) Constantly splurgin, I can match the dealers car for car Nigga the god a star, shinin like a Audemars Some niggas marked with scars y'all know who these artists are But me I ride different, I ain't with the dry snitchin I ain't like these guys bitchin, ship jumpin and side switchin I keep some live fish and all of my grind pies flippin I'm 'bout a dollar, I stress it in every rhyme written Some niggas try trippin, walkin driveby grippin Keep the four-five clip in, never catch me high and slippin (Not me nigga!) The kind of boss you might die if you try stickin Same dude that tried to hit and everytime missed me I'm untouchable, Teflon bitch See me comin through, you better strap a vest on qiuck The rumor is he gassed up, on some Exxon shit Not at all, take a shot at Paul, the Tec's gon' spit Muh'fucker! [Freck Billionaire] Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm West Philly Freck, yes I rock the best ice I lay my trap down like I'm tryin to catch mice And you would think I went to flight school I'm freshman like the first year of high school Foreign vehicles - yes, I can get 'em homes Two of everything - yes, I get 'em cloned You meet your maker if you play with my checks Testarossa, Testaverde man I play in them Jets Freck - I fuck dime bitches (what else) I'm a Dom pitcher (What else?) My Andre Agassis is older than your prom picture I take it back, got the Barkleys with the strap The red nosed pit shit, barkin with the strap Got work in the hood, loan sharkin with the crack I stay away from known snitches narc'n in the trap You faggots, niggas gettin tats tryin to make they faces scary I shoot your tear drop nigga, like Jason Terry Six-four Chevy, got it laced in cherry The red wheels too, don't bring no hatin near me To keep it real, I'm just glad to be here Y'all frown on the ground, we laugh in the Lear Niggas throw shade at us cause they mad at the glare You'll hear clappin like the Hova show at Madison Square Yeah, that's how I eat now, see they got the paid homes I make my change in the booth I'm like a pay phone I'm a +Slim Thug+, the boss man fellas Ya'll nigga like L.A., y'all Los Angeles/lost-n-jealous Check it, the ver two, my phone cost eleven thou' You betta warn a brother like Kevin Liles You lookin at a nigga, who done sold 'caine I put the purple in the air like +Soul Plane+ Rap niggas thinkin like "Damn what kind of lane he in?" Switched the black card from plastic to titanium I spit the "A" class lines, they spit "B" shit Spit that "B" shit, you never gon' be shit See how I "C" shit, I'm bowin wth the "D" shit Got plenty bitches down in Philly on that "E" shit I say "F" niggas cause I'm on some "G" shit