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taking pictures - fabolous lyrics

[verse 1: red cafe]
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 n-gga never put a pencil on a beat
spring fresh, at the spring fest
perfect attendence motherf-cker, we bling best
huh, this a bossed up king set
is 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 sear’s tower
live by the code, ride don’t dare cowar
24 straight hours, i’m jack bauer
punish the block, with the milk white powder
enough water to give the burrough a light shower
enough hammers grip grip, and cause thunder
i’m just here to get the bread, i ain’t talkin wonder
but the feds takin pictures of me
da lean like it’s on syrup, need a picture of me
i’m so brooklyn, i scream [? ]
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 ricky lake today
it’s the fidda didda dam on ya cam
murda a make dem boys blam

[verse 2: fabolous]
i wasn’t one that’ll flash em, i rather buck em
most n-ggas a stash em, i rather tuck em
i either cl cl-ss em, or rover truck em
den drive right past em like motherf-ck em
see the game likes wall street
i watch the ups and downs like stock betters
i’m velveeta with it, still gettin block cheddar
i’m with the rock shredders, glock outta the box getters
come through like katrina, they call em the block wetters
blah blah, thanks to the rock setters
i’m shinin, reclinin on this maybech’s leather
i’m in the rich yung 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 reg 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 livin room raiders
sn-tch wifey, come back for groom later
throw in the back of the van like she on room raiders
ha ha, the rookie n-ggas pay homage
the b-tches throw the box at me like vonage
the 4 hors-m-n, arm, ole, flair, tully
n-ggas this fully, ski mask ya skully

[verse 3: paul cain]
i’m a rich yung boss, gettin money is my occpation
my net worth numbers look like china’s population
i’m a hustla by blood n-gga not relations
stutta gang, cain put a stop to ya operation
stop debatin, i’m one of the hardest bar for bar
constantly splurtin and i could match the dealers car for car
n-gga the god a star, shinin like a?
some n-ggas marked with scars, ya’ll know who the gods are
but me i ride different, i ain’t with the dry snitchin
i ain’t like these guys b-tchin ship jumpin and side switchin
i keep live fish and all of my grind pies flippin
i’m bout a dollar, i stress it in every rhyme written
some n-ggas try trippin, walkin drive by grippin
keep the 4-5 clippin, never catch high and slippin
the kind of boss you might die if you try stickin
same dude dat tried 2 hit n everytime miss me
i’m untouchable, teflon b-tch
see me comin through, you betta strap ya vest on qiuck
the rumor is, g-ssed up on sum exon sh-t
not at all, take a shot at paul teks gon spit

[verse 4: freck billionaire]
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 fly skool
i’m fresh man like the 1st year of high school
foreign vehicles, yes i could get em homes
2 of everything, yes i get em cloned
ya meet ya maker if you play with my checks
testerosa, testaverde man i play in them jets(freck)
i f-ck dime b-tches, i’m a dime pitcher
my andre ag-ssi’s older than ya prom picture
i take it back, got the barkley’s with the strap
red nose pit, sh-t barkin with the strap
work in the hood, lone sharkin with the crack
i stay away from known snitches narcin in the trap
n-ggas getiin tats tryin 2 make they faces scary
i shoot ya tear drop n-gga, like jason terry
6-4 chevy, jus got it laced in cherry
red wheels too, don’t bring no hatin near me
to keep it real, i’m just glad to be here
ya’ll frown on the ground, we laugh in the lear
n-ggas throw shade at us cause they mad at the glare
ya hear clappin like the hova show at madison square
yea this how i eat now, see they got to pay homes
i make my change in the booth, i’m like a pay phone
i’m a slim thug, the bossman fellas
ya’ll n-gga like l.a., ya’ll loss and jealous
check it the ver 2, my phone cost 11 thou
you betta warn a brother like kevin lowes
you lookin at a n-gga who den sold cane
i put the purple in the air like soul plane
rap n-ggas thinkin like d-mn, what kinda lane he in
switch the black card from plastic 2 t-tanium
i spit the “a” cl-ss lines, they spit “b” sh-t
spit that “b” sh-t, ya never gon be sh-t
see how i “c” sh-t, i bone with the “d’ sh-t
got plenty b-tches down in philly on that “e” sh-t
i say “f” n-ggas cause i’m on sum “g” sh-t

- fabolous lyrics

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