| Tuck, tuck that
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| Tuck, tuck that
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| Tuck, tuck that
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| Tuck, tuck that
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| Tuck, tuck that, ice in
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| You ain’t, you ain’t, iced out
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| Tuck, tuck that ice in
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| I shine like a lighthouse
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| Tuck, tuck that ice in
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| You ain’t, you ain’t iced
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| Lights on, lights off
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| I shine like a lighthouse
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| Tuck, tuck that, ice in
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| You ain’t, you ain’t, iced out
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| Tuck, tuck that ice in
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| I shine like a lighthouse
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| Tuck, tuck that ice in
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| You ain’t, you ain’t iced
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| Lights on, lights off
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| I shine like a lighthouse
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| My shit is platinum
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| These assholes wearin' white gold
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| See I’m to smart for this cause
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| All my shit paid for
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| And why should I rent a house
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| When I can huy it and write it off
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| Make it my Florida home for the summer
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| Round winter time just rent it out
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| See I ain’t none of them
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| Who ride around on rented rims
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| Change on the weekend
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| And floss in him mama’s Benz
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| See when I hit the scene
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| I be so fresh so clean
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| White fitted, white tee
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| Ain’t nan nigga like me
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| What kind of shit you on
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| Wearin' fuckin' rhinestones
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| Them cubic zirconia son
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| Them ain’t fuckin' diamonds
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| So you gonna fuck around
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| And get gangrene at the arm
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| Who’d rob and kill one
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| Over some mother-fuckin' slum
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| Your chain is crazy
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| That shit for gazey
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| And it ain’t real
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| Unless its copper or stainless steel
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| So whoever made it…
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| You shouldn’t have paid it
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| Twenty grand for a watch
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| Thats fuckin' gold plated!
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| 16 out the house
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| 17 gold mouth
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| 18 on the block
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| Nigga got them thangs out
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| Birdman stunna, nigga we don’t sit in jail
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| Real nigga’s do real thangs
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| You know we make bail
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| Trick hit me on the cell
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| Know I gotta make a sale
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| Found myself in Dane County
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| Nigga’s movin' pounds of bail
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| So fresh, so bright with the ice
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| Nigga you could loose your life playing with the bright lights! |
| Yea
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| Khaled got my back
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| I’m strapped nigga in Prive
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| Doin' it big, poppin' bottles, nigga the g-way
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| Black handles, black ice, we’ll get it right
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| For a cheap price nigga that cutter’ll get your mind right
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| M.O.B. |
| to a bitch
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| Made my hood rich
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| Quick cash, young money, it’s that uptown shit
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| Ballin’one them bitches
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| Shock callin' on them bitches
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| Two million on some ice and some cars on them bitches
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| They asked the kid the difference between mine and his
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| See my shit blindin'
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| His shit don’t shine
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| Cause that shit ain’t real
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| His gemstones, they fruity pebbles
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| Just like Flinstones
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| And he had his «Roley» on
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| But I ain’t even notice his arm
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| But his diamonds cloudy
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| And he ain’t shiny
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| And I heard his shit «Tick Tick Tickin'»
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| Oh man, this nigga* trippin!
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| See we poppin' bottles and smokin bugga
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| Actin' cocky
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| Big thangs with fat pockets
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| Wearing seventy-thousand dollar watches
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| My overseas friends
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| Are breakin' thangs in
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| Invest in a smaller hit town
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| Shakin', bakin’and breakin' it down
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| We gettin' top dollar
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| Cause we got that top powder
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| Hoes slob on our johnson
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| Cause johnson got that best powder
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| We call a grand a dollar
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| We gettin' money holla
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| Rollin' hard with five fives
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| Real fucking street ballers
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| I did five trucks since the first quarter
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| I’m on the right path at this rate
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| I’ll be sellin' slabs by the halfs |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tuck Ya Ice , by - Trick Daddy. Song from the album Back By Thug Demand, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп