Lyrics Takin Pictures - DJ Drama, T.I., Rick Ross

Takin Pictures

The Feds takin' pictures on me
Nigga’s still snitchin' on me
(Nah)
900 for the sip
What you think I’m smoking, homie
(Ha ha)
Oh what you think I’m joking, homie?
Blue rims, yeah, the coupes crip walk
(Woo)
Certified plastic think I’d rather make hits
Between me and you, yeah, I’d rather flip bricks
So tell me what’s wrong with glass pots and a scale?
Pose for them bitches like the double XL
Homie, we ball 'til we fall, Magic City we to the mall
Trying to stay out of reach of the long arm of the law
I’m calm like snowfall through preliminary hearings
They indicting niggas for bootlegging and racketeering
Prolly got me on the camera while I’m copin' out the car lot
I’m coming out the banks, big cred' with the Karl box
It’s Willie, my futures bright like a highlighter
They taking pictures cause I’m fly like a skydiver
Feds takin' pictures
Jones, you ain’t seen money
(Nope)
Until you seen me
(Jones)
220 for Bentley GTC
(Ballin')
And the money ain’t a thing like J Dupri
(It's nothing)
When you ballin' 'round the country like the major league
(Pick a team)
So peace up, A town down
(A town down)
Tear your streets up with them A-K rounds
(Bang, bang)
Now whatchu know about that?
I know all about that
3 birds, 3 nights can make a 100 thousands stacks
(That weight nigga)
And man, they got it on camera
(What?)
The Feds been watching since the boy touched Atlanta
I’m the biggest mobster to ever hit the pop charts
I’m a easy target they know a nigga rock hard
Get a clean check cut slip it in my account
Write 'em out a China White a lil' cut’ll wipe 'em out
I ain’t with the rapping boy, I’m puttin' in the work
In these niggas with the rapid lay his ass in the church
Get some information for you informants I got the YAY
And I’m selling them cheaper than yesterday so whatchu say?
Feds takin' pictures
They snapping while we trapping, trying to find out what happened
They wanna lock me up before my album go platinum
I took my cell phone and through it, my bank account I blew it
I got to cut my conversations, I don’t want to do it but
Who’s that peeping in my window
It ain’t no love they tired of telling on they kinfolk
So if you’ve ever been broke and turn a penny to a twenty
Let me hear you holla if you want me come get me
Whether you know me as T.I.
or you can call me T.I.P
And know the APD and F.B.I.
they talk about the G.I.B
And they know I be high when I’m in the V.I.P
I’m sure they see me as I fly through the city and that brand new V.I.B
Young, rich and famous with a pistol you can call me Chi Ali
But I’m the greatest in Atlanta they be calling me Ali
Feds takin' pictures