P.T.A. lyrics

by

Tonedeff


King Tee
M.A
J-Ro (J-Ro)
P.K
(it's the mix)
L.A
I want my name on a big banna, word to my nanna
A red bowl in Atlanta, one in Savannah
Tell em both get tanna, you too white like Vanna
Sit 'em on my lap like Santa
I want a sky blue Cadillac, wit' a 8-track and a floor model T.V. in da back
So I can race ???, straight down tha ???
Last one to get to Roscoe's buys tha waffles
I be the man in the club spot, I want tha mansion
And tha yacht, like imma forgot
They haven't sell tha house yet? I wanna buy it
And rent each room out fo' a grand, like tha Hyatt
I want my own football team, and stadium
Hey, f*ck platinum, I wanna go uranium
I had dreams of f*ckin an R&B sl*t
Plus I'm tryin ta be tha first in tha bently truck
On twenty-fo inches of chrome, tight sh*t
A.T.V.'s an'a satellite dish
Playa hata waita cuz a n*gga might switch
Two thou', three V-dozen like six
No matta what they do, boo, they can't see Tee
All these n*ggas frontin in their crib on M.T.V
I gotta castle
Wit' a draw bridge, no hassle
Let tha chariot swing low, go grab 'em
Take 'em to tha airstrip, catch tha airship
Back to tha hub city, ????? (woo)
I just love that whip appeal
'specially all that sh*t ya feel
I'm not gon' lie, Imma tell you tha deal
I want planes, trains, and automobiles
If you don't know what I mean
Jump inside so fresh and so clean (say what?)
Imma let you n*ggas know how I feel
I want planes, trains, and automobiles
I want a floorless Benz wit' gorgeous rims
So I can drive around, grinnin in my drawers 'n' tim's
These hata's hopin all dis ends
Score sum lawya's as friends
What I really want? It all depends
I wanna be tha man in tha halfayear
So I can ball out in Cleveland like a Caviler
I wanna check wit' six zeros, two commas
Sean Jean slippas an', Fubu pajamas
I drove down rows, that want everything sold
b*tches so cold they suck like, black holes
Roll thru tha mall, smokin like broken stoves
Stroll wit' King Tut gold thru orange chronic groves
Flows as hard as foes impose
Wit' tha sold out shows that pack tha Rose Bowl
Pocket's so swoll I can buy ya soul
Mack an Ro want tha globe
Ballin' outa control
(fades out)

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