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