Pick up trucks
 Big yay
 Mac 11s
 Thrust out hoop
 Bad hoes
 357s
 I heard the word
 Powder head
 50 grams
 I'm in the cradle slangin'
 Billows and cocaine
 I fit the lamer
 I admire ya
 Scrub you to death like my
 Pit bull terrier
 See I got something for all y'all
 Wanna be stalions
 It's the magazines
 Black stallions
 Every numbry
 Every punk
 Have you ever seen inside
 Of a Regal trunk?
 My life is worse than any hand in poker
 Come on and pull me bitch
 I ain't no joker
 I ain't that nigga that rap
 But don't want nothin'
 Saying he never had nothin'
 So he don't need nothin'
 Watch him blow holes to his salary his whole round
 Pop a clown
 And leave him dead in this dope town
 And after that
 Beat his head with a pipe
 Kill for the hype
 Kill for my strike
 I ain't Jamaican but I
 Get a pussy oil (?)
 Left him cold
 Take his soul

 (chorus)

 We in the notherfuckin paint
 Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
 My nigga Nino in the paint
 Big D, he in the paint
 I'm in the paint...

 (Verse 2: Wicked)

 Met a pair of the dank
 Keep seeing myself
 In the bank
 Yeah i oughta' get a full-time
 And do the right thing
 I got a full-time
 Slangin' cocaine
 My brain's fucked up off them
 Sniper nuggets
 Late nights fuckin'
 And wicked(!) book it
 See a bumper in the hood
 Won't be faded
 man it's fucked
 'Cause I made it
 See killin's what we do
 In the dec
 See killin is normal
 For respect
 I gotta grind down to the local
 See some work that I got
 From my uncle
 See my whole family
 We in the paint
 You wanna trap in my hood
 But you can't
 Pick up trucks
 Mac 11s
 Plushed out hoops
 357s
 Quick to bust you
 With this black stallion
 And falling victim to a trigger
 Of a little stallion
 'Cause them young boys
 Be weedin' and dustin'
 Instead the cops
 Are being busted
 They call this schools
 Got them filled with greed
 But a bitch don't know me
 I'm hard to read
 When a bitch don't know me
 I squeeze with speed
 When a bitch don't know me
 I fool the breeze (?)

 (chorus)

 (3rd Verse: Nino)

 I lifted two 'keys
 But both of them were fake
 Fuck Nino couldn't tell
 Even if he checked
 Hop in the hooptie
 Headed to Augusta
 Lookin' for my man
 The perfect busta
 Check his dough
 I got 36 for 2
 Send some real work
 Back to my crew
 Back down the way
 I heard them niggas want game back
 Catch you like a scar
 I'm gonna crack your head with a car jack
 See he forced that judgement
 I know you want it slower
 Heard about two killings I did in
 Colordo
 Picked up bad habits
 When I was younger
 My pops always told me
 Get a fool's drama (?)
 But I'd never thought
 He'd take this shit this far
 Killed a motherfucker outside a sports bar
 I ain't even flinched
 He hit the road
 I shot him again
 Then took his gold
 You know my Wicked
 He saw the whole thing
 I told you before
 357s
 Pick up trucks
 Big yay
 Mac 11s

 (chorus