to get my paper, my paper I'm so fire, fire Patron got a brotha feelin higher, higher (HEY!) higher, higher Ain't nothin I'm just tryin to get my paper, my paper
kidnappers Better than seed, is the way I shop for that D Not the 17th, the real niggas in that 3 Play wit em, hard head niggas they split em Raw dope they sell it, I get
I put that nigga on that T-shirt that you be wearin Me and my click do that dirt that them niggas be sayin They doin, but Uptown doin that Get in the
the real Them niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that steal You ain't hear about the young thugs, The Hot Boys, that's who the are Run that
slap that clip in You shittin like stool pigeons That's my bitches, that's my riches, that's my niggas That's my yayyo, that's my scale That's my sale
them Grapestreet Gangstas, G'd up Rollin that weed up Nigga get outta line, get shot stabbed jacked Hit with a bat or beat up Fuck that, we're on that
CPO, we got the bomb spot, nigga time to clock it I get the liquor, and you could get the females This crooked shit that we inflictin gettin street
in penitentiaries But still homey keep it real, how does it feel to lose your life, over somethin that you did as a kid? You all alone, no communication, block on the phone Don't get
Kickin up dust with the older G's Soakin up the game that was told to me I ain't never touched a gat that I couldn't shoot, I learned not to trust the
: "You could get the finger.. the middle!" {*1} "Come and get some!" {*2} [2Pac] Ahh yeah, they love to point the finger {*1} {*2} Boom boom boom on
ya Shanke you, spank ya, your whole style when I gank Guard your rank cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang Puffy weaker than a block that I'm runnin' through
ll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker So fill the Alazhay with a chaser 'bout to get murdered for the paper E.d.i I mean post the scene
here, tryna get a model out the door How am I bother with the bottle of that dro Slidin' on a roll, groupie in my vehicle that I don't even know And if
know I did it Man I hustle, I get money, in the sunshine or a blizzard I go hard for that paper, homie I just gotta get it Got 'em on the scheme, I'm
: NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (When it's on, that's who you get, huh?) NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (That's your motherfuckin' click, huh?) NYPD, LAPD, NYPD (You a motherfuckin
get it back? (that ain't gangsta) niggas ran off with your packs? (that ain't gangsta) If you ain't bustin' ya gat (that ain't gangsta) Verse 2: You'd
on the alley, wrote me letters all the time And I responded to the letters so she stayed on my mind Told myself I'm a grind As soon as I get out that paper
run New York) [50 Cent talking] Now who the fuck told that lil' nigga he can talk to me like that? Catch my bottle up and roll him somewhere, [laughing] D
