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 k**in'
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 n***as they call your kinfolk
I'd rather be broke, then one of them n***as that's on the board
Every option that I got, got me livin' by the ????
Over here, givin' a toast, to some of the n***as 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 n***a, we both can roll, for the ride
Sleepin' your head
And n***a 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 f**in' around with me and Cream gone do this sh** 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 n***a, when you smokin' up in the truck
Cuz you claim that you smoke pound, but you might get your sh** 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
f** that sh** 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 n***as they move in silence
I've been known for shootin' them toys in case them s**as 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' f**ed 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 n***as just can't get crunk up like my crew do
n***a we smoke weed like Wahoo, I get f**ed up cuz I want to
Now who knew? That Cream'll be makin' the money with n***as that get paid?
Sippin' on Dom and I parle' HEY!!!!!
Cream about that paper chase!!!!!
Chorus (.5x)