Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Picture Perfect, artist - Mike WiLL Made It. Album song Est. in 1989, Pt. 2.5, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 23.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Made-It Mafia
Song language: English
Picture Perfect |
Them brown bags, I sold that; |
them street corners, I know that |
Appetite, I’m so hungry; |
Democrat, I go donkey |
Weed head, I’m junky; |
White boy, I smoke honkeys |
Niggas like what Juvie on, he’s wilding out, he’s straight tripping |
Y’all niggas is straight pussy and ya’ll are about to be rape victims |
Boy I’m fucking with truckloads, started off from an 8 ball |
Like airplanes on a runway, a real nigga gonna take off |
I’m the reason my street hot, still stick to my G-code |
Tees, Bo’s and my Reeboks, and I’m cheesed up; |
I’ve got Cheetos |
I told ya’ll I’ll quit beefing; |
I’m chilling dawg, I’m on rehab |
My lawyer told me my record clean and if y’all fuck with me, I might relapse |
Like Noriega got a lot of guns, like Las Vegas I’m pimping |
Laws keeping their distance, ain’t no penetrating my system |
Bad Boy, not Puffy Hot Boy, get stuffy |
My main bitch got a black card and she’ll spend it all cause she love me |
Bitch I’m picture perfect, I paint a perfect picture |
I’m spooning with your bitch and make you do the dirty dishes |
Man I hate the thirsty bitches, cut em off like circumcision |
I’m the type to talk shit and it’d be words of wisdom |
Monster, killer, real nigga hustla on the reala |
My nigga, a dope dealer dealer |
Hustler, shining, a Big Tymer nigga |
So high on my grind I’ll be high flying nigga |
With my strapped up, my guns tight |
These niggas know I get money |
Come from Uptown nigga |
Where a killing take just a few hundreds |
Blast past, smoking on that pound |
Shining with my round when my nigga touched down |
100 keys on his feet shinin on them 23's |
Blowing o’s, fucking hoes, watch me throw another G |
Strapped in this field nigga, me and my lil' young nigga |
Ridin' around your town nigga, getting nothing but money nigga |
One hundred |
Uh, tried to fuck the world, can’t fit |
Pockets fat as Saint Nick |
All I’ve got is my niggas, cause a bitch still ain’t shit |
And I’ve got kush all in my swisher, these niggas is tissue |
I don’t believe these niggas, cause I don’t believe in superstitions |
Juvie, I gotcha dreads like rasta, hair like pasta, I go meatballs |
I get up in that ass and hit it as fast as Chinese ping-pong |
And my bitch, she got that fire, my homie got that iron |
But I tell 'em put it away or you could get punched like a Hawaiian |
Bitch it’s Tunechi F Baby, I’m an original Hot Boy |
My dick feel like a prisoner cause this bitch got lockjaw |
I’m so feeling myself, Truk everybody else |
My redbone is ice cold, I’mma fuck the bitch till she melts |
Uhh |
Bitch I’m N-O till I G-O |
I can’t change if I tried |
I look to my left |
I look to my right |
And time ain’t on my side |
So that’s why I like my blunt fat and outta shape |
Money on my mind |
Pussy on my face |
Tunechi |