| Now my candy, is so fresh so clean
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| I break them boys off when I pull up on the scene
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| In my candy, with ten coats sprayed tight
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| And that Northside royal blue is settin off the white
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| On my candy, sho' ain’t the average paint
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| You go to Ike tryin to buy it he gon’t tell ya ya cain’t
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| Have my candy, it’s like a one-of-a-kind
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| And you might have a painted slab but it ain’t pretty as mine
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| Cause my candy, worth mo' than money can buy
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| Brought it to Funkmaster Flex and seen a grown man cry
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| For my candy, sittin on nuttin but glass
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| Stoppin traffic on the freeway, when I fly past
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| In my candy, got no competition on the street
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| You can win a Dub car show and still can’t compete
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| With my candy, cause it’s the sweetest on the block
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| And I’m trill, workin the wheel, that’s why they all jockin
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| My candy~!
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| Candy, painted, drop top, El Do', riiiide
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| Now my candy, is sittin tall on them Vogues
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| It’s like an alarm clock, wakin up all the hoes
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| My candy, is wetter than high tide
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| And it’s lookin like I just had a blizzard inside
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| Of my candy, got mo' wood in it than a forest
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| One look’ll get you hooked like a motherfuckin chorus
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| My candy, drips an unerasable stain
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| It’s real magic, not like that motherfucker David Blaine
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| My candy, it got the woman on the front
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| And a Ph. D in showin niggas how to stunt
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| My candy, it got the fifth up on the back
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| And it’ll swang through your hood like it don’t know how to act
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| My candy, the 8th wonder of the world
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| Like floatin downstream when you’re starin at the swirls
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| My candy, ridin real trill, stayin true
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| And it’s a legend in H-Town like DJ Screw
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| My candy
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| Just like candy, it’s so sweet
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| Fadin niggas, on these streets
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| People watch as I ride by
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| In my candy, I’m gon' shine
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| Now my candy, is so smooth, so laid
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| And these boys can’t comprehend how the paint got sprayed
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| My candy, makin people stop drop and stare
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| Pull out any car you want to but it won’t compare
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| To my candy, it’s like a fo' wheel mirage
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| That’s too pretty to park, in a motherfuckin garage
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| My candy, it’s like a part of the fam'
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| So lose my friends or my ends I wouldn’t give a damn
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| But my candy, is an extension of me
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| So when you lookin at my car you lookin at Bun B
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| It’s my candy, player, throwed, fly
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| And you can’t fuck with it no matter how hard you try
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| My candy, the other level of the game
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| If you ask me again, bitch I’mma tell you the same
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| It’s my candy, yeah nigga mines not yearns
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| Long as I got syrup to sip, and Swishers to burn
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| In my candy |