Submit Song Lyric Corrections

scorecard tracking image

Lyrics Correction

Found a mistake in our lyrics? Submit the corrections here!

Waka Flocka Flame

You are submitting corrections for:

Candy Paint & Gold Teeth

by Waka Flocka Flame

Go back to Candy Paint & Gold Teeth Lyrics

Note: When submitting correction to lyrics please don't be inappropriate or purposely submit wrong lyrics.

Lyrics: Boss uhh Flocka [Hook] I'm from the south, southern hospitality Soul food dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners, dinners I'm from the south, where the old folks' they don't mind they business Strip clubs is our culture, we sum' heavy spenders Ca-Candy Paint and Gold Teeth (x8) [Waka Flocka] I'm in Riverdale on 85, at Antlo's eatin' sum' Soul Food (squad) Clayton County attitude (squad) Let me know if you down too (flocka) Party all night wit' my people And if yo' ass go hungry, man, them hobo's they gon' feed you I bring drama, like Sammy Sam, I'm so point five (uhh) Twist a blunt bumpin' Do or Die Car clean, no suit and tie Ghetto boy like Willie G Cartier wood grains like I'm Pimp C, hold the flame like Bun B I ain't from the South that's Ludacris, that country shit Fish n' grits, y'all full of pits Wet paint, big rims You can't help but done notice it When the beat in it, dark tints I'm coolin' it wit' my bab (flex) She sick as shit and I have (flex) Rich country hell good mayonaise, yellin' Riverdale where we at [Hook] [Bun B] And I'm sittin' low in my old school And my is Loc's on, and I'm so cool And my top it drops, so there's no roof When I'm shinin' on, it's my gold tooth (hold up) I'm trill as hell, and I'm heavy set Pray to the Lord, but don't get it bent I'm from the hood, and I represent And I turn it up, like the deficit I'm from Texas bitch (bitch) Cadillac no Lexus bitch (bitch) What we ride on fours, suicide doors, and park no places So you best not test us bitch (bitch) Cuz' we'll get reckless bitch (bitch) Catch you on yo' block wit' that big black glock take part of yo' necklace bitch (bitch) Tell me who gon' check us bitch (uhh) We outside Down for the hood nigga, we gon' ride My gladiator's, yeah they go live Wit' them A-R's and them 4-5's So watch yo' step, and know yo' place You ain't trill don't show yo' face Cause I'll pull and pop it, and I'll catch a case And I'll leave the scene wit' no trace [Hook] [Ludacris] Luda Fresh out the shop and the candy coated Cadillac, stacked on amazin' wheels Seats look like I hollered at the Reece's peanut butter cup, and then made a deal Trunks shakin' like jelly, honey's ready to check the spread Cuz' I get that cheese, and I sandwich myself between the bread So keep yo' mind on yo' riches, and get yo' hoes right Cuz' in these streets you not safe unless yo' codes right Your southern living is like something you ain't never seen Ask any hustler his favorite color is money green Blacked out tint, white wall spinnin' Lookin' for the hamhock, neckbone, collard green, cornbread eatin' women We sum country ass certified gangsta's in the South When you speak about who's hottest watch yo' muthafuckin' mouth Luda [Hook]
Notes / Comments:
Your IP: 67.202.9.192

Mobile Site hide

Hey, we have a new extension for Chrome: Lyrics for Youtube! More info...