Ibe - Paperchaser lyrics

[VERSE 1] Life's short The day's long I'll probably die up in my hood like Trayvon Wait son I'm from a block, where n***as bear arms Like it's 95 degrees out Shots, and them D's out G's trying to C's what you B's bout Ain't nothing, f** you banging fo' Oh you ain't banging, f** you claiming fo' You ain't trapping, you acting My n***a's first reaction, is blacking, and blasting At fourteen, my n***a had a pocket full of stones Never met his pops Mom never home Crib full of kids, still a n***a feel alone Got his mind up on his money Hand upon his chrome Other hand upon the phone Said there's money to be made Life threw him lemons, he made hard lemonade And got lifted I always said “My n***a, you was gifted” He said, “Money make the world go ‘round. Don't get it twisted” [HOOK: Tennille] You's a paperchaser You got your block on fire Remaining a G ‘Til the moment you expire You know what it is To make something outta nothing Just handle your biz Just handle your biz (2x) [VERSE 2] New York Big city of dreams Feins got the sh** looking like it's New Orleans Juvenile's, with crack vials, in their G-Star jeans And B.G.'s, with blood stains, on their new XIV You getting money, ha Gold chain around yo neck, ha Got a connect, so now you wildin' for respect, ha That beeper, yeah, it come wit a tec, ha You selling pills, got em trippy Tell em watch they step, ha You paperchasing, ‘cause ya bills overdue Hot Boy every summer And the winter too Low profile, but you blowing Mystikal Whipping up in them pots Grandma in the living room Didn't finish school, ‘cause you tryna chase that skrilla In the hallways, like all day sh** looking like it's Thiller Since a youngin' you was told never to snitch Everybody need a hit All you gotta do is pitch [HOOK]