Lyrics:
Proofs in the pudding and that baking sodas taking
Paper that I'm making got her taking photos naked
Listening to niggas like whistling at Wendy Williams
This is a public service announcement
Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records
"Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost
even up my sleeve
A million albums sold and it's hard to believe
Well it's true homeboy, it's not a lie
I used to sell tapes on Sunnyside
I used
baby
Check this shit out right here, uh
E Pluribus Unum is the album I'ma drop
It'll make you bitch niggas as hard as rocks
Giving head
A trouble maker, bitcher taker, a scorpio
Naughty by Nature, my Unit brings the Flavor
We cake up like make up, and in New York
Fuck the daily news,
be the best grime artist
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know that I'm not
sometimes the other side ain't always what it seems
We dropped "Super Tight" a album full of killer flows
But then we got caught up with the drugs
always what it seems
We dropped "Super Tight" a album full of killer flows
But then we got caught up with the drugs and the hoes
We didn't realize what
Proofs in dat pudding & dat bakin' sodas takin'
Paper dat would make take dem photos naked
Listenin' to niggas like whistlin' at Wiggie Williams
I
the name
Yeah, papercutz
Papercutz, Paper
Here we go, papercutz
papercutz, paper
paper, cutz, papercutz, paper, paper
Are you gonna do another album man?
Wrap my mind around the truth
And the paper 'round gelato
My arms around a bitty and
My fingers on a bottle (Coat around)
My coat around my body
Man it's
even up my sleeve
A million albums sold and it?s hard to believe
Well it?s true homeboy, it?s not a lie
I used to sell tapes on sunnyside
I used
to die
And he was trying to get it all
Down on paper that's something the
Average rapper just could
Not do: build an entire
Album around that concept,
Piece by piece, this puzzle comes together
Sever your ties with the bad guys, let the lies go
If you wanna be a hoe, go 'head and don't be scared
In this album there's a picture
Of the ladies at Daniela's
You can tell it's from the eighties
By the volume of their hair
There's Usnavi, just
and come on through
You know what fuckin happens
Every time I drop an album
And top the charts like I'm Malcolm
And how come a white man rapping
Is seen
Vibrate
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might get a check, you wanna trap, might get a coffin (die)
When that paper flowin', party for a month straight like Rick James (Rick)
The feds is
double M fees
We in every hood, nigga, government cheese
Yachts and Yacht Masters, Old Dirty Bastard
Floor seat for the Heat paper that I'm stackin'
Better
On the floor of our
Now botanical dorm
This paper's got my brain working overdrive
But baby this distortion is by design
"Supposed to" doesn't matter, just take
You can’t hurt me sucka
Cuz every single lil thing hurts me sucka
Tough luck if you tryna fuck with mee
I'm paper thin bullet proof
Go on try n shoot
diss me in my zone
See i'm way farther then fed up cuz i've been prone
To getting attacked by dumb bitches that
Cannot own
Their own shit
So they gotta
in the children
Life keep happening
We bout a purse
Main objective
Don't end up on a shirt
Keep perspective
And prepare for the first
Cuz thirty go by
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know, that I'm not a nimrod
And if you still
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