Inkredible (Feat Lil Wayne & Rick Ross)

[Trae]

Tha Truth back, lets get to bidness

its something unfamiliar

call it a foreign image

paint heavily leaking

I guess it wasn't finished

riding with something freaky

they tell me she the business

the chain clear, stones never cloudy

60 rats or better, nigga ask about me

certified gangsta, please don't ever doubt me

welcome to the streets

you can't get in without me

Im Presidential, Obama painted the Vogues black

toping in the Chevy, top rollin' back

my life a motion picture, bitch I aint gotta act

I send em to your section, nigga hold that

its raining scattered bullets

too late to run for cover, I drain em like Kobe

then I evacuate to the gutter

on something thats pokey with looks

and a trunk they'd like to stutter

I rank as the king of the city

it aint gon be another,

(Inkredible, inkredible, inkredible, inkredible…)

[Lil Wayne]

I'm sending shots, it's happy hour

I shoot from close range, I'ma need a shower

Brains in the sink, body on the counter

Women and the kids, leave em how I found em

I'm a real nigga, stand still nigga

I cut ya face, have ya lookin like Seal nigga

Then I pull ya card, then I deal witcha

Gamble witcha life, is this your lucky night

My bitch so fucking right, every night I fuck her twice

Big boy money bitch pockets on Charlie Wise

Tatted up, I'm scarred for life

Tell the cops I know all my rights

Got choppas I dont mean Harley bikes

Drop me like a bag of ice

Shades dark, flag bright

Wallet chain, chrome horse

Hair to the fucking back, call that shit Rosa Parks

Dr. Carter man I gave hip-hop open heart

Young Money baby aka Noah's Ark

ahaha

and Im Noah!

YOUNG MULA BABY

[Rick Ross]

My money long, my temper short

my cars foreign my dick a boss

the guns new, the beef old

its time to come through like never before

liquid C4, look at me hoe

look into my eyes do you see a C.E.O

I'm talking kilo's, time to reload

(Creole words) - "Shut the fuck up" in Creole

bitch I'm paid up, get ya weight up

pillow top back, realest shade up

I got them automatics so you know I'm automatic

all my auto's automatic you know thats automatic

what you niggas wanna see

dont get caught in the street

I got G's that'll wait for a quarter key, nigga

I'm living nigga

fuck the critics nigga (fuck em)

shit is serious nigga

you hear the lyrics nigga (Yep!)

its Ricky nigga