Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Draped Up, artist - Bun B. Album song Trill (Amended), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.08.2013
Record label: Rap-A-Lot
Song language: English
Draped Up |
Big terrible Texas, where legends are born |
Lil Keke the don, original Screwed Up Click |
This dedicated to DJ Screw, Fat Pat, Big Mellow, Big Steve |
Bun… |
Draped up and dripped out, know what I’m talking bout (x4) |
Well it’s big Bun B now, baby, Mr. Woodgrain |
With diamonds up against them balling through your hood mayn |
And I’m smoking on some good mayn, the color purple |
Not the movie, but the kind that have you going in a circle |
Chrome, looking more classy than the Transco Tower |
Car drippin' candy paint like it just came out the shower |
Like 'Face I got the money, the power and the finesse |
To roll around one deep with hundred-thousand round my neck |
I’m looking real shiny; |
you can see me from a mile away |
Thought you was doing it, until I came and took your smile away |
Pull up on your side in the turning lane |
Pop my trunk, break you off, chunk a deuce |
And I’m Cadillac turning mayn (I'm gone) |
Little swang to the left, big swang to the right |
My plates scraping and I’m sliding the pipe, it’s super tight |
So don’t try to knock us baby, don’t try to hate |
That’s how we do it in that Lone star state; |
get it straight |
(We be…) |
Draped up and dripped out, know what I’m talking bout (x4)] |
Now if you never been to Texas, there’s a picture to paint |
Cause we doing it real big, in case you thinking we ain’t |
It’s lots of money on these streets, being spent and being made |
All it take is one look to see these boys getting paid |
They living laid in big houses, with pools in the backyard |
Certified gangsters so you never see us act fraud |
With iced out watches, bracelets, chains |
Pieces, teeth, mayn we throwed in the game |
We got screens in that headrest, visors in the ceiling |
On chrome 83's and fours and Vogue peeling |
With bumpers and belts across the back of my trunk |
Push a button, and my car is waiving bye to you punk |
We from the land of sippin' on syrup and (banging the Screw) |
We slab swangin' comin down and through, I thought you knew |
Back in the days, all they ever did was doubt us |
Now the South is in the house, and they can’t do nothing about us |
(We be…) |
Draped up and dripped out, know what I’m talking bout (x4)] |
One time for my trill niggas reppin the block |
The real soldiers on the frontline is keeping it cocked |
They hold it down for they hood, throw it up, let 'em see it |
So they can know how you G it, if they hating, so be it |
We ain’t playing where I’m staying cause it’s way too real |
No matter the situation, we gotta keep it trill |
Got the steel on my side when I ride cause I’m ready |
I got 20/10 vision and my trigger finger steady |
I’m an Underground King homeboy, and not a simp |
And I gots to represent 'til they decide to free the Pimp |
I’m down for my click, just like I’m down for my block |
And I’m a stand up for my partner 'til they let him off of lock |
So go on, body rock, Southside or lean back |
Two-step with your boy if you about your greenbacks |
This here is a Texas toast so raise your glass |
Because the whole dirty South fittin' to show they naked ass |
(We be…) |
Draped up and dripped out, know what I’m talking bout (x4)] |