Tekst piosenki
Couldn’t Cook Up a better mixture or fuck with a better dealer
The colors is evident couldn’t Paint you a better picture
Im smooth with this rap shit you caught in my rapture
Trynna rap how I rap its difficult plus you lack gift
God like flow spitting scriptures for practice
When ever I’m performing I’m some where in the stars done
Your opera kind of awkward like niggas up in Harvard Complaining about the hardships
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Where Im from you got to learn the Color Codes
Tourist read maps but end up bent and left swole (swollen)
Now the green better ya self when you role through
Anacostia ain’t for no out of towners
Doubt if some places on the red line either
Know niggas in Silver Spring that will end your four seasons
Thats why I stay in the booth, and to tell you the truth
Don’t fall asleep on the blue or you’ll wake up in the white
Ask my nigga Dwight he did a brick for his rights
Some niggas be living trife he had to end em (them) on sight
I put that shit on my life, Thats the daily routine
Done check the colors when you roaming DC
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Its Something like this,Its Something Like This Its Something Like This
Color Codes Nigga
Now listen to the story that I tell, One line take you straight to money straight back to hell
Oh well ain’t no hope its just the man power got plans to hand my hands on lots of grands in a hour
I prolly hit my connect get a track of the work and put it out to the phenes
Eight dollars a pop, Yeah my shit is supreme and in my town I’m a king
Yo spill the paint young my money is green
Komentarze (0)