paper chase - j-dubb lyrics
[hook] x2
life ain’t never been a luxury
you gotta get your money on every day of the week
you gotta get your paper
you gotta get your paper
[verse 1: j-dubb]
when i inhale the smoke
if it’s bomb i choke
i cop a proper h.p
then i plug my folks
and stay on deck
with that icky-sticky green
if you know what i mean
‘cus getting high is an everyday thing
i kick backs on tracks
about blacks making money in the stacks
to all the bustas:
“get back, don’t try to f-ck with that”
and listen folks to your homie
‘cus i’m known for leaving ’em lonely
putting it down like pretty tony
better give me money
surrounded by k!llers
and cap peelers
ex-dope dealers
trying to get their hands on legit squilla
p-ss the hennessy and lemon squeez
so i can put my mind at ease
while i keep riding with this 50 g’z
chp hit the interstate
i hope they don’t playa-hate
if they riding slow
and run my license plate’s tags
up to date i got bills and registrations
so miss me with that ride to the police station
i’m on a paper chase…
[hook] x2
life ain’t never been a luxury
you gotta get your money on every day of the week
you gotta get your paper
you gotta get your paper
(a paper chase, paper chase, you know i’m on a paper chase)[j-dubb repeats throught hook]
[verse 2: j-dubb]
from a runny nose to holes in the clothes
the beaten down souls that [?]
to no b-tches, to more b-tches
than you ever would need
running through ’em like weed
so as you [?] at the dope spot
b-tches got your name hot
holering ’bout your name at them headshots
but it’s the same thing just a different player
so listen really close to what i say’ah
hey ah people [?] a head on your shoulders
i told ya
watch out for the popo
local and federal
sunlight shining on the 17 inches of chrome
amg’s, motherf-cker please
i got’s to get my squilla
on the real’ah
you better check the real n-gga
from the ex-dope dealer
trying to get his cash on, steady
and i got’s to get legit [?]
[hook]
[verse 3: gangsta p]
young n-gga ballin’
creepin’ and crawlin’
trying to see a meal
check the real how i feel
slang more cola than the baking soda factory
f-ck the police and the state penitentery
i’m going out like pablo escobar
gangsta p the ghetto star
reaching for mars
snp’ah still packing a 9 milimiter
[?] keep a n-gga on his feet’ah
a real loc in the game ain’t no joke
when they smoke my n-gga yo
paper chase was the victim of the scope
if it ain’t death it’s the jail cells
highly educated but the test’s underrated (b-tch)
it’s young n-gga from the east’o
check my stilo ‘cus now raps pay me hoe
by the stacks never will i laugh
but stay strapped
and clog paper don’t even [?]
[hook repeats until end of song]
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