Lyrics:
shit out
Vision impaired, Helen Keller
Can't see these niggas money in the way
Can't hear a thang, niggas muted by paper chase
This ain't Tadoma ion
Yeah. Wooh! That boy crazy!
I'm a Copperbelt boy and I lean to the left!
I lean to the left! Boy I lean to the left!
I'm a Copperbelt boy and I lean
roof
Even once had a job pouring tar up on a roof
That boy had it hard no facade its the truth
So now when I Menage and get massaged its the proof
up yag
Clockin' major chedda loke
I'm all about my paper roll
I go to work on the East side jackin sucka bitches rides
Doin hella drive bys just
Yeah
E-yeah e-yeah
Yeah
Boy you a motherfucker
Your bitch she on my dick
She say she love the drip
Boy you a motherfucker
Balenciaga with the diamond
Teddy boys
Formed by gangs of young white men who were worried about the
c reading a nes paper stated
For weeks there had been assualts
Leading
skate with the p's
Like he Pha-rell
Ya'll niggas butt cheek soft
cnd pretty hoe frail
While we make paper off the soft
cnd you can tell by the smell
I
Rule number 1, you better go get yo paper
Rule number 2, you better not trip off no hater
Rule number 3, at all times keep it playa
And last of all, boy
a quicker ho that a live on the next street
Over player then do this shit again next week
Getting this paper, phat chicks up in the next Jeep
Probably
Now have you ever been fucked up
With nobody by your side
A bitch won't answer your call
You can't even catch a ride
A nigga won't front ya
Talk
I flip and scrip 9 minute EF three
Playin by different bitches 'cause my face in the paper
Profile done although she couldnt describe me I got
Exchanging every deadline looking though this paper I'm influenced by this headline
Can’t you see what’s going on in our community?
Can’t you see they know
boys ready to
Gun em down
There's a problem I'm a hound
Fuck your system kick me out
I'll go make another route
Making paper like a mount
Gun em down
the paper
We do what we do
Boy fuck a bullet proof
Cuz I'll shoot straight through
If ya step up to us ya heard what I say
I do it for my city do it for G-A
I
sparklers
I wanna see flamethrowers in this motherfucker
This a Will.I.Am joint
Hit-Boy, Britney, Waka, Weezy
And they call me Diddy bitch
Where 1 Oak at?
these trenches
Labels scared of my demeanor
They say all I show is the trenches
Mind your business get your paper
Keep low in these trenches
Keep it
Throw it in sport it drop
My AirMax got air shocks
Made a right on red ain't stop
Chasing this here paper
Blick and throw haymakers
Pimping is
brains in the store
Why they don't never come outside, I feel like birdie boy hoe
It's that birdie boy flow, I'm gettin' birdie boy dough
If I ever catch
be judged if am chasing Something these n*****
Can't even have
Boy l been chasin paper all my life
Never get stressed by b***** acting Like they got
Putting on, long hours on a paper chase
want that cake too boy
Love the taste of it
Its all or nuthin till we finally make it
The team they aint
get ya face twist
Cartel cocaine by the cases (cases)
Cartel mo' cars then the races (races)
A-K's on a lear jet (g-4)
Rick Ross I'ma Real threat
Puff, the magic dragon lived by the sea
And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honalee
Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff
so much paper but I know
That I know that you a liar liar liar liar
Let a grand hang out, let a grand hang out
Dip deep into your pockets, let
Uh (yeah), yuh (yuh, Hit-Boy)
Not off the alcohol, tonight my mind's sharp as a dragon claw (dragon claw)
And by my calculation, I go as hard
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