If (it Ain`t About Paper) Lyrics

If (it Ain`t About Paper) lyrics

[Hook x2]

If it ain't about paper, it ain't about me

Put too much work in my hustle to die broke on these streets



[Verse 1]

I took some money and invested in some hookers

Coca-Cola cookers, dick breakers, purse snatchers

Wallet takers, money makers, high-speed chaser cop shakers

Anything to stop the chief from tracin' catchin' cases

I'm cop racist, tired of seein' their faces

Been in the back seat too many times with blackened bracelets

Which I don't give a fuck, y'all wanna see me do bad

Cause I get up, get out, get off my ass, stuff duffle bags

Sweatin' the doo-rag, yay in the blue bag

Jealousy soon as I get down with more than you had

Take trips with a bitch a stuff a click up of coke

Love y'all but hate cha' city bitches, ya arrogant and broke

Quick to pick the jack up, call a crack and send me to Central

Use bitches for sex, money, ID's and rentals

One tried to claim the family jewels

I told the bitch I'm bad news, this cash rules



[Hook x2]



[Verse 2]

I sleep with stars on the low

Cause they my everyday hoes

It's like I'm scared for em'

Fuck around and laugh on em'

But I ain't laugh when we lost all them grams though

Cause they know they try to keep em' low but we sprang the door

Cell bars can't stop ours

Amateur broads is like movie stars and cinema screen

Ol' shorty right there, I been fuckin' her since she was seventeen

She a mean twenty-four now

Should I jam the broad raw now

The dick say yes

But the brain say stress

If you put on that dress you make a thousand dollars easy

Set chu' up with the rich Asians

Wanna flash them big faces

I wanna clean operation

Like ferry ferry freak off

Pay for play, pick the broad you wanna slay

Do it your way, I'm wait in the doorway

Yeah I'm sellin 4-A, doin' it

Don't blow me up, don't ruin it

If it ain't about money dick, the X ain't pursuin' it



[Hook x2]



[Verse 3]

Yo, let me speak some much all

For now, we gon' kill the dumb talk

Hold ya fort cause I ain't done

And the struggle ain't fun

I done sold crack, done that

Sold pack, gotta run

Yet I'm down for the coin, I need stacks bigger than Pun

Ya understand my man, a nigga wanna see his nights

Pop rubber bands if I have to pop rubber man

Cause the chips I got can't take care of my mother and

My immediate fam, so I scheme and scam to get some fetti in my hand

It done been times when niggas look at Eddie like he petty

But these niggas ain't my men

Workin' with birds and can't throw the kid no grams

But you wanna borrow toast when you caught in a jam

Niggas'll scram, stay broke, nah I'ma bounce back

Get a couple ounce stacks, take that and bounce that

Now I got niggas givin' me eight off of g-packs

And if it ain't about money, it ain't no need to believe that



[Hook repeated to fade]