"Paper" lyrics
[Paco Panama:]
Dog ass nigga, with some dog ass ways
Now it's five-star 'telly's, but I still love them hallways
I still love them raw sales, and how they all smell
When you cook, this ain't for rooks or no halfway crooks
That shit we did around the wave going in the record books
Nigga, fuck the record deal, I don't mean no disrespect
But that's just how a nigga feel (That's how I feel)
Especially if they ain't talkin' 'bout a couple mil', nigga, yeah
Shit get real, couple million of them streams
Call me young Phil, every year we getting rings
But I ain't ever switchin' teams, waited for my time to come
Got me feeling like a Ne-Yo, when he found out he the one
My young nigga feel like Nas, he said he got himself a gun
He gon' make something shake, send Oxy' to the store
We need more than a place
We started out with— shh, but ended up then the H
If I never serve you, then you got to smoke it in my face
If I finessed you out your shit, at least I did that shit with grace
He say I ain't the one, that shit you smokin' must be laced
He say I ain't the one, then he must be smokin' base
[OT7 Quanny:]
I'm on the breast just like I'm Tommy Bunz
I like hunnids, I'll take twenties if that's how it come
I'll whip that work just like it stole something
Way before I was a rapper, I was road runnin'
This a thousand eight grams, these ain't no bowls, cousin
You should see my fuckin' face, shit, when the law is coming
A hundred fifty in all cash, I got it vacuum sealed
Put you in the fuckin' box, now he a Happy Meal
A hundred racks in all hundreds, yeah, I been savin' mines
Yeah, this year our year, this niggas favorite line
Yeah, I whip that work like Kunta Kinte
I just made a thirty-clip, it ain't even Wednesday
Ery'body gon' take a loss 'cause that's part of the game
Shit, I even remember when I ain' even had nothing to my name
I got a twenty band play, I made it real quick
We puttin' belts to ass, it's just like Lil' Chris
My granny found a .62 sitting inside her couch
She made me pack and get the fuck out the house
[Paco Panama:]
Dog ass nigga, with some dog ass ways
Now it's five-star 'telly's, but I still love them hallways
I still love them raw sales, and how they all smell
When you cook, this ain't for rooks or no halfway crooks
Dog ass nigga, with some dog ass ways
Now it's five-star 'telly's, but I still love them hallways
I still love them raw sales, and how they all smell
When you cook, this ain't for rooks or no halfway crooks
That shit we did around the wave going in the record books
Nigga, fuck the record deal, I don't mean no disrespect
But that's just how a nigga feel (That's how I feel)
Especially if they ain't talkin' 'bout a couple mil', nigga, yeah
Shit get real, couple million of them streams
Call me young Phil, every year we getting rings
But I ain't ever switchin' teams, waited for my time to come
Got me feeling like a Ne-Yo, when he found out he the one
My young nigga feel like Nas, he said he got himself a gun
He gon' make something shake, send Oxy' to the store
We need more than a place
We started out with— shh, but ended up then the H
If I never serve you, then you got to smoke it in my face
If I finessed you out your shit, at least I did that shit with grace
He say I ain't the one, that shit you smokin' must be laced
He say I ain't the one, then he must be smokin' base
[OT7 Quanny:]
I'm on the breast just like I'm Tommy Bunz
I like hunnids, I'll take twenties if that's how it come
I'll whip that work just like it stole something
Way before I was a rapper, I was road runnin'
This a thousand eight grams, these ain't no bowls, cousin
You should see my fuckin' face, shit, when the law is coming
A hundred fifty in all cash, I got it vacuum sealed
Put you in the fuckin' box, now he a Happy Meal
A hundred racks in all hundreds, yeah, I been savin' mines
Yeah, this year our year, this niggas favorite line
Yeah, I whip that work like Kunta Kinte
I just made a thirty-clip, it ain't even Wednesday
Ery'body gon' take a loss 'cause that's part of the game
Shit, I even remember when I ain' even had nothing to my name
I got a twenty band play, I made it real quick
We puttin' belts to ass, it's just like Lil' Chris
My granny found a .62 sitting inside her couch
She made me pack and get the fuck out the house
[Paco Panama:]
Dog ass nigga, with some dog ass ways
Now it's five-star 'telly's, but I still love them hallways
I still love them raw sales, and how they all smell
When you cook, this ain't for rooks or no halfway crooks
