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Paradise (feat. Krazie Bone) - Tq



     
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Paradise (feat. Krazie Bone) Lyrics


[Chorus]
I kinda want to drive Lexuses
Sit back and live life high with the best of shit
with a wrist full of ice in my president
And a pocket full of Debbies that you can't imagine
Guaranteed to make the best of it
To have a yacht on a lake with water beds in it
And a whole to of women that are singin' to my shit
With they hands up in the audience screamin' they want it
They want T!When I was a lot younger
I liked to sit up at the park & drink on St. Ides
Drunk as fuck, I used to wonder why some niggas roll 64's on D's
And some niggas let their khakis hang to their knees
Will I end up just like one of these?
Or smoke trees overseas and rock wimbley?
Bring back a black Bentley full of Henessey
And earl gray tea sippin' it with Naomi - And they on me!
I wonder how it happened so fast

To go from 33b to first class laughin'
And all you haters are hurt bad
Imagine[Chorus]Before I go to sleep at night
I say a prayer to the Lord above and I'm hopin' that he shows me love
Cause my shit be hot enough to have the world dancin'
Smokin' weed on the beach in the sand
and all my ladies look well in Chanel and Donna
If I trip, they got my bail, so farewell your honor
Ain't got no time for drama
Too busy chillin' with the mamas in the Bahamas
and everybody got they own bag of ganja
And you can go & roll a bleezie of you want to
Ain't got to worry 'bout nobody all up on ya![Chorus]Give me a house in Fayetteville and a blue five hundred
Next door to Evander, In the tub with Michelle & Samantha
And a black pet panther
And you ring the doorbell, I don't answer
And you can't stand it
And you askin' "TQ why you act that way?"
Cause it's too many haters with somethin' to say
I'm too busy blowin' up with my homeboy J![Chorus: x2]
Songwriters
ROSE, PAULPublished by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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Tq

Terrance Quaites is an American R&B singer, known professionally as TQ.

TQ was raised in the church (he sang in the choir) but his real education came from the streets, where the first wave of hip-hop music became the soundtrack to his life. "From Monday to Saturday I was hangin', partyin', chasing girls, getting in trouble, and straight-up acting the fool," he admits. "But on Sunday my mother dragged me out of bed to go to church. That's where I developed my singing voice and learned how to make people feel me."

TQ was never a thug in the true sense of the word: His hard-working parents instilled positive values in him, and didn't hesitate to set him straight when he was wrong. At 16, when his mom found a gun in his room, she sent the teenager to live with an aunt in Atlanta. In retrospect, says TQ, "sending me down South saved my life. It made me straighten up—for awhile, anyway."

These conflicting circumstances honed TQ's survival instincts and his passion for music. "The little money I had to buy records was spent on rap," he notes. "See, I really wasn't much into my generation's r&b. I listened more to the old-school soul that my parents had in the house. So my music now is more a combination of that and hard-core hip-hop."

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Tq