Paper Chase lyrics

f/ EMP, Mac Cris



Chorus 2X: (Cream)



I don`t care what people say

I`m gonna get `em for a paper chase

I don`t care what people say

I`m gonna get `em for a paper chase



(EMP)

Know I got that feeling that the pimp gone make a killin`

Droppin` them bodies off by the dozen I wouldn`t mind, makin` a zillion

Cuz there ain`t no love, like that love that`s on the down low

Always watch your back, for some of them niggas they call your kinfolk

I`d rather be broke, then one of them niggas that`s on the board

Every option that I got, got me livin` by the ????

Over here, givin` a toast, to some of the niggas that did they dirt

Nothin` wrong with recognizin` the real, fightin` and puttin` in work

I got some things I need to do, in the pursuit, in my one lifetime

And ain`t no more two-stompin` me, only grant for makin` my grind

And I`ma get in, where I fit in my nigga, we both can roll, for the ride

Sleepin` your head,

and nigga you fall to your knees when it`s time to compromise

I`m at the point of no return, only concerned with the fact

Know that I feel with this hustlin` two thousand trick,

tryin` to hold you back

On the bow, leanin` with one foot ahead and the bow, is bound to break

No more shots, no more pop,

because he`s dead and it`s time for the paper chase



Chorus



(Mac Cris)

Now smoke a blunt wit`cha boy, commit Cream got that green

Now shoot them toys wit`cha boy, cuz you know we on the scene

And put them things in your face, cuz I`m ready to catch this case

You fuckin` around with me and Cream gone do this shit today

Now get it crunk wit`cha boy, don`t front on your boy

And if you thuggin` up in the gates, let me see you get it up

Now hold it down with your nigga, when you smokin` up in the truck

Cuz you claim that you smoke pound, but you might get your shit smoked up

K to the I to the N to the G

G to the A to the T to the E

Smokin` and chokin` on swisher sweets

Keepin` you crunk and in on your feet

In this game ain`t nothin` but G`s

Fuck that shit you tryin` to plead

One in your head and then you dead and you gone fall to your knees

HEY!!!!!



Chorus



(Cream)

Now smoke a blunt wit`cha boy, smoke some fire green with me

Go and get some plastic toys I think somebody tryin` to get me

I can`t FRONT on ya boy, cuz every night I`m gettin` that green

Everybody be smokin` a pound, with the Cream on the scene

Don`t make me get crunk on ya boy, cuz real niggas they move in silence

I`ve been known for shootin` them toys in case them suckas wanna get violent

Now what`cha want from your boy?Cream olde English and some of this weed

Turnin` all of my enemies into manipulatin` fiends

But if you want it, you can get it

If you smoke it, two can hit it

I ain`t perpetratin` with it

I`m gone hit it until it`s finished

And just like Popeye eat his spinach, I`ma stay crunk off this all day

I don`t care what the people say, WEED make my paper straight

So HOLD IT DOWN wit`cha boy, don`t hesitate to get `em up

Go head and smoke up what you smoked up cuz today we gettin` fucked up

We smoke a pound up in my chevy, rollin` round we makin` credits

I ain`t messed up bout no change

We havin` thangs and I`ma remain the same

On top of the game, you niggas just can`t get crunk up like my crew do

Nigga we smoke weed like Wahoo, I get fucked up cuz I want to

Now who knew? That Cream`ll be makin` the money with niggas that get paid?

Sippin` on Dom and I parle` HEY!!!!!

Cream about that paper chase!!!!!



Chorus (.5x)