Beat Butcha - Paint The Sky lyrics

"You're undercut by all the amateurs. It's the amateurs who make it tough for the professionals. - . From mooching and being able to pa** off their bullsh** [Verse 1: Lloyd Banks] I've seen a hoop dream turn to a d**h wish Get into trouble, no problem. You're on the guest list They wonder how we got trapped in it, my guess is It's reckless when you're young, black and you restless Been up the streets this week and all Conversation breached the wall Ain't no secrets y'all, you're speaking tall But got a small way of thinking if you're thinking you're better Ain't a dollar made to keep sh** together I'm knee deep in the gutter My dawg said he go to sleep in his color He hit the blunt, took the world, and got the reaper to stutter A year spared from a weeping mother My scars outside don't match the ones I keep in under Bet you the devil ain't going to sleep this summer The heat'll come and leave your a** cold, you're holding a number Humble down if you ain't from the town Talking like you're running sh** And you just run around, when it all goes down [Hook: LLoyd Banks] Forever, I'ma stay alive Bred to handle anything, yeah, put here to rise Let the purple flowers, paint the sky Still taking chances, rather not make it by Forever I'ma keep it real Brought up in the field, another dream for the street to k** We hope the money ease the mind I need a way out like I need to rhyme [Verse 2: Vado] This life is a drug homie and I been an addict Can't talk money if you never had it You never was made from a better average I'm here to become a King like Coretta marriage Beretta packed it, get together a package Grease covered with plastic and it bubbles for traffic I'm bumping you ba*tards when I mob through Put a hole in one, yeah, we play golf too No controllers, I over power this rap biz Weed louder than Khaled ad-libs Breathe sour laughin with Fat Diggs? mad kid Funny how all the rats where the trap is Guess it's too much cheese to be getting Flip what? You only turn keys in the ignition Ten hut, keep the army in position My army the commission, we all meet in tradition What's up? [Hook] [Verse 3: Lloyd Banks] Little homie set up for a brutal living Hope ya momma put a bid in cause her dude in prison You know who's always there and who's been missing Kind of what you're used to with no supervision Clean yourself up and resume the mission Still trying to avoid collision so I'm riding out wit Coupe precision Rumors carried by young n***as and stupid women Go on, that's forbidden, here's to my new beginnings Rims spinning, I'm through walking You don't really want sh** with me, dawg, you're moon barking My clothes come in two, I need a few coffins Tell'em I did it my way then take my shoes off them Ending this like the movie paper views often Old cowards spreading knowledge that the fools taught them Though many got the same minds, I won a huge portion I hit the lye, get high, hear my crew talking [Hook]