I Get My Paper

 

I Get My Paper Lyrics

Chorus: (x2)
I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/
I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin` you/

Verse 1:
Look, if you deal coke and you still broke, start grindin` more homes/
Cause I`m a drug connaisseur homes/
In the hood, good jobs is hard to find, like dinosaur bones/
I`m tryin`a start shinin` more, homes/
That`s why I make `em `Hurry up and buy`, like that China store, homes/
Cause they`ll give you time for a dime or more stones/
And tellin` ain`t my twist, I ain`t that kinda boy, homes/
But a lot of niggaz singin` like the Commodores, homes/
I`m ridin` when it`s time for war, homes/
The chrome on my hip, could flip a fully grown dinosaur, homes/
I`m the kinda boy known to split domes when I palm the Taurus/
And spray rounds that could lay down a Tyrannosaurus/
My mind like a thesaurus, I`ma shine regardless/
My brain a dictionary, lames I`m quick to bury/
I spit scriptures and put pictures on obituaries/
So getcha own sound, tha Hustla home, now/

Chorus: (x4)
I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/
I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin` you/

Verse 2:
E`ry bar that I write, like a brick of that hard white/
I truly been blessed, this a gift from the Lord Christ/
But yo, if you livin` the hard life/
You can`t give back the hand you was dealt, so play ya cards right/
They say you ain`t promised them all, right?/
So I stay in them streets, like a deer that stay in that car lights/
With the highbeams on, and the fog lights lit/
I get, my lean on, on some boss type shit/
Until, my cream gone, I`ma ball like this/
In my all-white-T, and my all-white-kicks/
And I still toss the white on that strip, that`s why I floss like this/
With the frostbite wrists, cause we all quite rich/
I love this life/
I threw different colour ice, and my cross like Swiss/
And all I give broads is hard-type dick/
Have them twirlin` they tongue, yeah, I know I got a girl and a son/
But um, this a man`s world, I`m as thorough as they come/

Chorus: (x4)
I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/
I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin` you/

Verse 3:
I`m from a block where niggas get it poppin` at/
Where cats is known for boxin` and poppin` gats/
But you gotta aim low, when you poppin` that/
Cause that hot shit got kick, like a soccer match/
I`m from where the M1s and the choppers at/
Philly, where you could come to go gun shoppin` at/
You rockin` Plat, got ya chain with the watch to match/
Watch ya back, cause you gone if you ain`t got ya gat/
Cats`ll jack ya Pops if he ain`t got a strap/
Cats`ll rob ya Mom if she got a stack/
Cause niggaz tryina` get paid/
And niggaz not tryina` get waves when they rockin` the stockin` cap/
`Round the way, they gotta go n` make pots of crack/
And you`ll spend like 24 for a block o` that/
My niggaz tryina` get the cheese, but no, not to rat/
I`m from a block where snitchin` ain`t an option at/

Chorus: (x4)
I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/
I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin` you/
 

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