| Tha Truth back, let’s get to business
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| It’s something unfamiliar
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| Call it a foreign image
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| Paint heavily leaking
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| I guess it wasn’t finished
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| Riding with something freaky
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| They tell me she the business
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| The chain clear, stones never cloudy
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| 60 rats or better, nigga ask about me
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| Certified gangster, please don’t ever doubt me
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| Welcome to the streets
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| You can’t get in without me
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| I’m Presidential, Obama painted the Vogues black
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| Chopper in the Chevy, top rollin' back
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| My life a motion picture, bitch I ain’t gotta act
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| I send em to your section, nigga hold that
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| It’s raining scattered bullets
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| Too late to run for cover, I drain em like Kobe
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| Then I evacuate to the gutter
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| On something that’s pokey with looks
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| And a trunk they’d like to stutter
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| I rank as the king of the city
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| It ain’t gon be another
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| (Inkredible, inkredible, inkredible, inkredible…)
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| I’m sending shots, it’s happy hour
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| I shoot from close range, I’m a need a shower
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| Brains in the sink, body on the counter
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| Women and the kids, leave em how I found em
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| I’m a real nigga, stand still nigga
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| I’ll cut your face, have you lookin like Seal nigga
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| Then I pull your card, then I deal with you
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| Gamble with your life, is this your lucky night
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| My bitch so fucking right, every night I fuck her twice
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| Big boy money bitch, pockets on Charlie Wise
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| Tatted up, I’m scarred for life
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| Tell the cops I know all my rights
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| Got choppas I don’t mean Harley bikes
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| Drop em like a bag of ice
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| Shades dark, flag bright
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| Wallet chain, chrome horse
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| Hair to the fucking back, call that shit, Rosa Parks
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| Dr. Carter, man I gave hip-hop open heart
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| Young Money baby aka Noah’s Ark
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| And I’m Noah!
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| YOUNG MULA BABY
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| My money long, my temper short
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| My cars foreign, my dick a boss
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| The guns new, the beef old
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| It’s time to come through like never before
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| Liquid C4, look at me ho
|
| Look into my eyes do you see a C.O.
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| I’m talking kilo’s, time to reload
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| Map fout ou deyo — «Shut the fuck up» in Creole
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| Bitch I’m paid up, get ya weight up
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| Peel the top back reel the shades up
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| I got them automatics so you know I’m automatic
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| All my auto’s automatic you know that’s automatic
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| What you niggas want to see
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| Don’t get caught in the street
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| I got G’s that’ll wait for a quarter key, nigga
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| I’m living nigga
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| Fuck the critics nigga (fuck em)
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| Shit is serious nigga
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| You hear the lyrics nigga (Yep!)
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| It’s Ricky nigga |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Inkredible , by - Trae Tha Truth. Song from the album Deep in the Heart of Texas 7, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп