Lyrics Paper Scheme - Mean, Faytes

Paper Scheme

I crave for nicotine and cream
Sip lean on blue dream
Blazin' up on that grass
I’m ‘bout to spaz out
In these new jeans
Balenciaga on the label
Dirty Sprite right by the table
Steady writing fables
Polluting minds on open cables
Pull out that Glock
I’m aiming straight for the dough
Ain’t got no time for these haters
I put a knife to their throats
I’m ‘bout the cash and the clothes
Take out you trash and dispose
I’m bout the game and the glory
I bring the game to the thrones
[Pre-Hook: Mean)
I’m breaking bad with the meth
These alphanumerical flows
Take me to higher positions
In flight, i’m one with the soul
Drown me in liquor and gold
Faded we drink to the morn'
That darkness inside me
Is screaming right down
To the bone
[Hook: Mean)
I’m slowly stacking the paper
I’m steady counting the money
A flying fuck to the haters
Who don’t believe in my glory
I’m ‘bout the cream and the cars
All the clothes and the kicks
I want more to get by
For as long as I live
For the air I breathe
Thank god for the gift
Oh glory, glory, can’t you see?
[Verse 2: Mean)
That I ain’t lyin'
I’m bout that shine
So come pass me the liquor
Drown me deep to the nine
To outer space I done fly
Spit magical with the rhymes
Tactical flow with the style
None come close
When compared to mine
Come on board my flight wave
Haze tunes for your mind
Design to live on a daily
And that’s just how I get by
Luxury rap shit to front
When I can hardly get by
I’m sick of working my ass off
Striving so hard to survive
I work hard for the paper
I play hard fuck ‘em hater
[Verse 3: Faytes)
In and out of 'em towns
In and out of ‘em streets
When I come around
Don’t watch me
When I come around
Don’t speak
I been getting all of the pounds
So you know the carti ain’t cheap
I been out there with a white man
I been out there with a B
And I don’t smoke nothing but weed
I just sold B to get P
Took a trip down to Lot 3
Swiped a few iPhones for free
Man i’m rolling round my ends
Rolling round with friends
I be in and out that TT
I be in and out that Benz
I be in and out that coupe
I be out there for that loot
CP Gang, money man
You should already know what I do
I can’t stay bummy like you
I get paid to do what I do
Truey and the Loubis man
What the fuck you know
About shoes?
Flow’s infectious, no anthrax
No tetris, I got grand stacked
I’m restless, I don’t sleep
I smoke weed and bang tracks
I got P’s and sip yack
Zone out and sit back
Her big ass on my lap
But she won’t see my cash