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