Lyrics:
Make something that looks good
For someone because you could
Do it now and then
It doesn’t matter when
Stacks of paper are lining my desk
So many
And flew paper airplanes too
My chemestry experiment
Blew up the whole school, by accident
Every teacher knows my name
they hear it and go insane
I brought
a paper rollin', and these Yanks they know it
White Boy hate this Oman, but I avoid the po-pos
Put some more loyal hoes on
Trick suck a nigga dick quick
breakin' me apart
Wanna get down on my knees and pray to God
But I don’t know where to start
Guess I’ll start by askin'
Why the fuck I gotta play with these
except fuck up niggas that fuck with us
I stack up the paper let the fam get the shit
I do the shit for them I hope you're aware
Put yourself in my shoes I
A fragile tower once rose by my bed
A handy place to stack the books I read
But now the seven basic plot designs
Betray the endings of thier
by gold diggers (uh)
Rockin' Bejor denims, wit gold zippers (c'mon)
Lost your touch we kept ours, poppin' Cristals
Freakin' the three-quarter
Spends every night inside these walls
Dumps the trash and sweeps the halls
And he makes sure
That stained glass shines
Picks up paper in the pews
losses are enormous
I tap the fader to activate an assassinator
To stack papers I smack fakers with a tractor trailer
I'm clever and never lacked
And I'd fly by on 135
As I rehearsed the Golden Rule
Small towns ain't much for small talk
They know your mother's maiden name
And every traffic stop
The prescription that you’re taking to the pharmacist is written on a stack of 20 dollar bills.
Are you still taking them pills?
I remember back when we used to take
to the election day
I'm voting please don't cut off my section eight
As soon as Pastor pass the collection plate
I'm like shit, I'm trying to stack for a escalade
on white paper with a black pen
I started wonderin how life woulda been
If a nigga like me was born with white skin
I wouldn't have got knocked by
Have my fanny so white, enough to sniff lines nigga
Napoleon, a.k.a Maximus
My plans for this, is rise up, stack chips, nigga rise
(Chorus-Kastro)
four's and thinking thoed, banging hoes and changing clothes
Smoking dro and doing shows, paper stack can never fold
I bought the car and I bought
see 30 bands in my vision
Im gonna hop out a stance then a lifted
Reaper in my city you get slashed by the rip stick
Pack up the bitch shit
Passed from
know my name
Pen to paper when I write I let my heart spill out
No need for favors I refused and took the harder route
Nowadays they only seem to do it
my hand
I've been trying to stack up
I need more paper damn
I've been trying to spend time
With my immediate fam
But that don't never pan out
Swear
niggas and we no relation
Gave pain to the paper now
You standing for the ovation
And waiting patient for my cock to turn pages
Godbody in the flesh
on the low-key
Ayy, yo, no record contract
Just a bunch of customers and
Plugs in my contacts, tryna palm stacks
Survival's only meant for the
Fittest when
gotta do at least a tune a week
Make use of fast food
That's the food we eat, it's food at least
I stack Ps and treat Nandos like McD's
That's everyday,
Slow Loud And Bangin
And you'll be in the dust
It's a known fact I
Got a mouthpiece contaminated
Niggas hate it knowing they can't fade it
Innovated by
to levels unheard
But that's why I'm writing, call it a t-rap
Moving this paper, but can't make a stack
It's more than a living when I'm on the track
Taking
Aye, it's DubDaddy on the track
Not a rapper, but I thought I'd have a crack
Another song, another bar, another stack
We keep coming back now we're
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