Lyrics:
see your papers!
How come you have to yell so much, what did we do?
I don't yell.
Were just trying to get into the country.
This is my country, it's not
Why do think I have this outrageous accent,
you silly king!
GALAHAD: What are you doing in England?
GUARD: Mind your own business!
ARTHUR: If you
want it today
Noisy pack in my wrap
Hennessy in my cup
Ginger ale if I chase
But I really don't do that much
I really don't have that time
You
time
With my bone thug love
I'ma always get mine
And I mean that,
Gotta have that,
Paper paper,
Money money,
Money, money
Money ain't a thing,
any
Money to spend in the cell, but what do you want my belt for?" and he said
"Kid, we don't want any hangin's
I said, "Obie, did you think I was
I get my pocket tapped Goodz
Ya Grape is in the street 'cause
Like Suge my pockets fat Goodz
Ya squad not strapped Goodz
Them guys by ya side will
to stay in jail
Ho bustas
Picture me rollin' in my 500-Benz
I got no love for these niggas, there's no need to be friends
They got me under
I'm coming through, got paper, gotta have it
Under my damn bed
Man I'm flipping red
If I get caught with keys, I'm going fed
But that ain't on my mind
I'm coming through, got paper, gotta have it
Under my damn bed
Man I'm flipping red
If I get caught with keys, I'm going fed
But that ain't on my mind
get in another car accident
This time with your baby mother and
Kid and instead of dying
You end up being the only
One of them that lives what?
Yeah
Mmm, I gots to get the fuck up in it, formulate a caper
Cause a nigga straight sufferin from lack of havin paper
My bitch fin' to have a bastard, see?
Fuck what they think about you
Groundhog get your paper
Von Berlin nach Brooklyn von Hof zu Hof (the hood is the hood)
Manche Leute sehen uns am
other shit
They like to talk behind your
Back, but in your face, they ride yo' dick
That's why I stay tight with my crew
So what you gon' do when we come
in jail
Ho bustas!
Picture me rolling in my 500 Benz
I got no love for these niggas, there's no need to be friends
They got me under
in jail
Ho bustas!
Picture me rolling in my 500 Benz
I got no love for these niggas, there's no need to be friends
They got me under
in jail
Ho bustas!
Picture me rolling in my 500 Benz
I got no love for these niggas, there's no need to be friends
They got me under
You know I'm always on my paper chase
Always get my green, always on my lean
Me and Po-yo fixin to pop up on the scene
In a classic seat
Yeah that's
to figure what the los angle is like a Laker
So I can be on beaches with my niggas in Jamaica
I say 'baby get low', You just getting by
They hating cause
to figure what the los angle is like a Laker
So I can be on beaches with my niggas in Jamaica
I say 'baby get low', You just getting by
They hating cause
they screamin', "Who's that god?"
We be on the top, careers gettin' too high
They knew I would get a million dollars, what I do buy
That pink kid in
that?
Do you?
The God of Berlin
The God of Russia
The God of Slovenia
Who are they and what are they doing?
Who are they (Fuck) and what you have done?
Picture me rollin' in my five hundred benz.
I got no love for these niggas,
There's no need to be friends.
They got me under survailance.
That's what
be trippin dont be doin no drive-bys
Cause we dont gangbang, dont wear blue or red
We like that fuckin green, papers what I said
Big Moe wassup, in
Ain't bout taking no pictures
You got to be with my team to understand me
Because The million dollar that's
What i'm demanding
When i get it im be
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