Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Covered In Gold, artist - Sts. Album song The Illustrious, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 19.09.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Riggd Up
Song language: English
Covered In Gold |
| Spittin' image of perfection; |
| yo quick question, baby can I get directions? |
| She said: «To where?» |
| I said I’m trying to get to heaven |
| I was hoping you were an angel or your daddy is a revern |
| At least, peace, I’m Sugar |
| Friends call me Slim |
| Now you don’t know me from a can of Sherwin Williams |
| But if you willing, hell if you chilling |
| We conversation pushing kush to the ceiling |
| You quite appealing, shorty they all told you that right |
| Venus, lady you goddess like |
| I respect it even more cause you the modest type |
| Hell, when god made you he knew he got it right |
| Type of body a nigga gotta like |
| Could make a queer fellow wanna get a model wife |
| Hey bartender, server her whatever bottle she like |
| Fuck price! |
| Tip the waiter to keep it on ice |
| I heard about you from my nigga Dice |
| He described you as being more than kind of nice |
| Fit for a king you should have that type of life |
| All covered in gold and diamonds, right? |
| I love your attitude, and your skin tone |
| Queen Cleopatra Ms. Cleopatra Jones |
| Type of women I would take in holy matrimon' |
| Shorty fly, she don’t ever get her ratchet on |
| I cut those other hoes off I got my hatchet on |
| Trying to lock it down with you put the latchet (?) on |
| Cut the lights dim; |
| turn the music on |
| Burn a doobie making love to a Roots song |
| Her shoes, her blouse Louie Vuitton |
| Plus the matching bag, she high fashion |
| Ralph romance, smell it when we slow dance |
| Glass in my scottle (?) got you doing it with no hands |
| Caddy broham, drop top slow jam |
| Ain’t it pronounced brone, I’m like no ma’am |
| Grammar country as Nelly was I’m barely buzzed |
| She rolling up for a nigga I might’ve fell in love |
| I wanna Rolex your wrist up gold first lady |
| 18-karat cut |
| Jackie, Hilliary Michelle Obama such and such |
| It ain’t no rush it’s just |
| Let’s take a gamble and she if we can hit |
| You looking lovely as a winning lotto ticket Ms |
| You got me feeling lucky I should play the quick pick |
| Have us both covered in gold and shit Slick Rick |
| Check retweet pics on your timeline |
| Follow each other but rarely do we correspond |
| At least publicly |
| And she luckily, doesn’t mind bitches saying they fuck with me |
| You can’t blame hoes |
| Gentleman of leisure baby you know how the game goes |
| What you think I slang for |
| So I can hang Vera Wang on my main ho |
| I let her know that it’s a lifestyle change |
| I let her know there’s some out things that, try and ruin is |
| She like «True enough |
| But we can make it if we try just the two of us.» |
| Build with the shit |
| I love her quick wit |
| Perfect timing baby you deserve a diamond |
| I understand why fools fall in love |
| Something about the way you shine |