Picture This Hotboii
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Picture This" by Hotboii. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
(Uno got the streets goin' crazy)
(Thanks, Yakree)
(Slayer)
[Chorus]
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (No, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (Give me your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (Fifties and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
[Verse 1]
No, I cannot be fake with you
I can't even lie, this shit'll never be what it was
I be talkin' 'bout you ain't reach out when you made it, did you?
See, I'm on my way and now you reachin' out for what?
Where the fuck where you?
Blood shedded, can't be what it was
The fuck is up with you?
Them rug-heads go get it out the mud
No, I don't do no lovin', filled up my heart with money
Ain't know that I could run it up like this so much
When I tell you I'm comin', I'm comin', no rush
When I failed you, know you wanna go thug somewhere else
I got shows now, like Giannis, I'm comin' for the bucks
Get the backend, no backend, we park front of the club
(Uno got the streets goin' crazy)
(Thanks, Yakree)
(Slayer)
[Chorus]
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (No, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (Give me your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (Fifties and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
[Verse 1]
No, I cannot be fake with you
I can't even lie, this shit'll never be what it was
I be talkin' 'bout you ain't reach out when you made it, did you?
See, I'm on my way and now you reachin' out for what?
Where the fuck where you?
Blood shedded, can't be what it was
The fuck is up with you?
Them rug-heads go get it out the mud
No, I don't do no lovin', filled up my heart with money
Ain't know that I could run it up like this so much
When I tell you I'm comin', I'm comin', no rush
When I failed you, know you wanna go thug somewhere else
I got shows now, like Giannis, I'm comin' for the bucks
Get the backend, no backend, we park front of the club
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