S.L.O.T-A - Paper lyrics

[Intro] So you think that money is the root of all evil… Have you ever asked what is the root of money? [Verse 1] Yo, he took me out the shoebox, along with two rocks He tuck me in a pocket I felt the tip of a new Glock Walked down the block to the corner He took me out the pocket and he paid for marijuana Now I'm rollin' with his homie I don't know or understand No instrument in hand but he got me in a band Took us to the crib we all sat on the bed And when he count us up I think we closer to a grand Man, you seen the way that his face look He take a picture and put this sh** up on facebook [?] on pictures but they ain't [?] And so he put me with a bunch of singles now we in the club stuntin' He pull us out in front of, front of this girl's eye She comin' closer her hands was rubbin' her inner thighs She dancin' on the pole, he throw me in the air Feel like I touch the sky, flyin' without a care I'm comin' down, now I land somewhere on her stomach And then she put me on her skin and she let me touch it I think I love her but it don't last She put me in her [?] and stuffed me in a bag But when she pulled me out it was a different day And when I seen her I could barely recognize her face She had a hoodie on smilin' in the office of admissions Hand me to this lady sayin' "this for my tuition" [Interlude] Money is a tool of exchange, which can't exist Unless there are goods produced and men able to produce them Money is the material shape of the principle that men who wish to deal with one another Must deal by trade and give value for value [Verse 2] I sittin' inside of the envelope, eh yo it's dark as hell They put us face to face, Ben Franklin know me well And Lincoln sittin' in the front say he can't see me George Jefferson, now where's Weezy? I felt a finger that was younger than the others Slowly slide me out the top and he quickly close the cover He's told the lady that he late he leavin' out for cla** I wonder cause I didn't see a book inside his bag I see he lied to them, the secrets hide in him He probly robbin' them cause they already robbin' him We leave away from college, I'm still inside his pocket I hear a man speakin', preachin' about a prophet They put me in a plate and plate and took me to the alter And count us in the back, the process like the projects The priest gave us to a party with a lotta tea They always talkin' bout freedom and how it used to be They gave me to this politician and I listen while he say Cuttin' funding for the children And in a hotel room he rolled me up and pa**ed me to his escort Put me to a nose, did a line he took the next snort I loosen up and I started thinking Them dead presidents got more power than the president that's living He left me on the table, I'm guessing he forgot Housekeeper took me put me in a shoebox [Outro] Money is not a tool of the moochers, who claim your product by tears Or of the looters who take it from you by force Money is made possible only by the men who produce Is this what you consider evil?