Mr. Lee - Get Your Paper Up lyrics

[Chorus - Yung Redd] Ay go on, salute me I don't flip, never that See I know how to get it, I know where the money at Them haters talkin' down, still I'm comin' up I get money, stay true, get your paper up Hey seein' me [?] Ridin' fresh out the paint, doors open Them haters talkin' down, still I'm comin' up I get money, stay true, get your paper up [Verse 1: Paul Wall] It's Paul Wall baby, Swishahouse spokesman I'm crushing all competition like a coke can I'm with that Damon Jones Mix-O and Black Lac In that Lac with the trunk cracked I'm swingin' until the swingers click I'm back, I'm stuntin', comin' down on gold tires I'm on the block, holdin' it down like some [?] I keep the swingers pokin' I got the windows open, white cup with somethin' potent Woodwheel still what I'm chokin' I'm on that Antwaan with Lou, Hawk, and Freddie [?] This smell of [?] is makin' their heads bop, that's my job My mind's on stackin' on what, these boys out here chasin' broads Look close it's no mirage, I got somethin' ballin' [?] [Chorus] [Verse 2: Paul Wall] I'm on the block holdin' posts like Jermaine O' Neal No ice grill, just cold steel, that's a gangsta grill I'm down for that drama so I'm known to pack a cannon A sharp seein' hittin' targets like Peyton Manning And you can catch me in the hood like a liquor store Roll the dice, let's get that dough, I'm 6-8, I'm 10-4 I got that Tish from black, that tip got my back I put them elbows under the Lac, and know they plottin' ta jack Boppers don't know how to act, I'm leanin' back and countin' stacks Postin' up on big wheels, still tippin' lax [?] I'm out here chasin' banks Breakin' bread and sippin' [?] Accumulating my Benz taste, my mind straight, and my paper chase [Chorus] [Verse 3: Paul Wall] My vision's nocturnal so I'm grindin' all night I gotta cup that's rather purple, so it's oil and it's Sprite I got some partners in the cage, I be shootin' them kites Them other guys is all hype, tell them s**as take a hike baby You see these [?], you see them hundred spokes I'm holdin' posts just one deep, ya get it? Coast to coast I'm slabbin' candy drops, punchin' clocks and smashin' broads I got money like Reggie Bush, my billboard got a lotta yards I'm with that Poppa Joe, plus I got dro on the low I keep the lean for a month or so But I'm back on it, I can't let go I'm down with [?], we switchin' [?] Some of these boys ain't lastin', we still right here countin' cash [Chorus]