| Cutthoat dope
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| Cop you some nigga
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| I keep it mackin'
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| Send an Anglo-Saxon to ask and get crackin'
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| C-notes when she come to cash in
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| What’s happenin'?
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| Gang goofy tramps catch thrashings
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| Action macking, focused no distraction
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| Cutthroat nigga end in thumping and blappin'
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| Every time I’m on a song you know that’s slappin'
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| Five-Tre-Five I’m a coach like Madden
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| Could never be short but small nigga you slackin'
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| Pussy like Toni Braxton
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| Slap you so hard that your backflipping backspinning
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| Break these busters all down in fractions
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| Big game hunter mayne these lames is napping
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| I’ma gangsta mack
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| I’m cold as pimp Slurpee
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| Make a bitch give me fifty reps a burpee
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| When she fuck up
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| I’m a pimp that’s stuck up
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| Loose lips get told to shut the fuck up
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| I’m not the sucka
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| You motherfucka
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| Dre quick to trip and go blucka blucka
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| 40 cal slugs
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| Northern Cal thugs
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| strip they sure to have dubs
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| Dub sacks, dub rims and dub rocks
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| Heckler and Koch
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| them Glocks
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| Nigga ain’t playin'
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| Spray 'em, no delayin'
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| Twenty nine with the bag, get your scale and weigh 'em
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| Mushrooms and toys
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| And they all for sale, go see my boys
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| The turf is gurpin'
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| We smoking purpin'
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| Up the block in something hot
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| Skirt and chirpin'
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| We tryna get paper mayne
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| For the right place you could date the dame
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| A player tryna shine, can’t hate the rain
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| Love ain’t shit can’t take the pain
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| Drugs ain’t shit if you ain’t
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| Thugs ain’t shit don’t play them games
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| The slugs ain’t shit
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| Gloves no prints, no trace of names
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| Shells, no
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| I’m a thug nigga, drug dealer, cap mud peeler
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| done wacked me a nigga
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| Smack me a nigga with a
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| Suge and I’m fucking 'em again
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| It’s a goddamn shame that I come so hyphy
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| Thuggin' with my niggas out getting it nightly
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| knocks on the wrist
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| Get your bitch riding shot in the Benz
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| Fuck friends nigga
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| Bend the corner and I’ma lay the block down
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| Hurry up run, get the fuck out of town
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| It’s cutthroat style, bitch we wild out
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| Cussing like a sailor, filthy fowl mouthed
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| So many O’s I don’t know what to do
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| And fuck you
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| If you ain’t with me and my crew
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| Cutthoat nigs, bitch we some fools
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| We tryna get paper mayne
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| For the right place you could date the dame
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| A player tryna shine, can’t hate the rain
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| Love ain’t shit can’t take the pain
|
| Drugs ain’t shit if you ain’t
|
| Thugs ain’t shit don’t play them games
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| The slugs ain’t shit
|
| Gloves no prints, no trace of names
|
| Shells, no
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| Now, money is the motive
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| Paper is power
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| Cutthoat Committee
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| Crestside, Gateway,
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| Paper
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| Enter at your own risk
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| Vallejo town
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| Furl, proceed
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| I’m a 7−0-7 North bear
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| Do they got bomb out there?
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| Of course player
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| Porsche Carrera on my side
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| People looking at me like I stole my ride
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| I’m in my five Mercedes, new millenni
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| With hella ladies, on shrooms and Henny
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| Late night dinners, coming home from the strip club
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| That french hair let the bitches get picked up
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| This is a stick up, hands in the air
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| You got jewels and money you best be handing 'em here
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| I’m the Man of the year, simply underrated
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| Them other motherfuckers is simply inflated
|
| I cause some trouble
|
| Niggas hit the bushes when the see the X double
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| I’ll cut your Cletus
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| Stay clutching heaters
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| And make a motherfucker read these Adidas
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| We tryna get paper mayne
|
| For the right place you could date the dame
|
| A player tryna shine, can’t hate the rain
|
| Love ain’t shit can’t take the pain
|
| Drugs ain’t shit if you ain’t
|
| Thugs ain’t shit don’t play them games
|
| The slugs ain’t shit
|
| Gloves no prints, no trace of names
|
| Shells, no |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Paper , by - Mac Dre. Song from the album Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game #3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп