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 killin`
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 niggas they call your kinfolk
I`d rather be broke, then one of them niggas that`s on the board
Every option that I got, got me livin` by the ????
Over here, givin` a toast, to some of the niggas 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 nigga, we both can roll, for the ride
Sleepin` your head,
and nigga 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 fuckin` around with me and Cream gone do this shit 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 nigga, when you smokin` up in the truck
Cuz you claim that you smoke pound, but you might get your shit 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
Fuck that shit 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 niggas they move in silence
I`ve been known for shootin` them toys in case them suckas 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` fucked 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 niggas just can`t get crunk up like my crew do
Nigga we smoke weed like Wahoo, I get fucked up cuz I want to
Now who knew? That Cream`ll be makin` the money with niggas that get paid?
Sippin` on Dom and I parle` HEY!!!!!
Cream about that paper chase!!!!!
Chorus (.5x)
