Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bout Your Paper, artist - Phix
Date of issue: 25.01.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Bout Your Paper |
Know me from Cali to Bed-Stuy, yeah |
Motherfucking Phix and Caskey, bitch (Supreme) |
Yeah, Supreme on the beat, yeah, okay |
If you ain’t 'bout your paper, don’t know where the fuck you from |
Ay, running up the fucking bands |
Bitch, I got the day-date on the wrist |
Everyday I’m plated with the chips |
They screaming «mayday» when it hits |
I made a payday with the wrist |
Came to the west side |
You comfortable when the dead rise |
You made your home in apartments |
But I feel at home when the jet flys |
I got killers telling me to go |
(I got killers telling me to go) |
Started this amatuer, but now it’s pro, yeah |
(Amatuer but now it’s pro) |
I made a couple thousand at the stove |
But off of music, I done turned a whole |
That’s shit they know like we in Hollygrove |
We gotta get it 'fore we getting old |
We in the city, bitches getting chose |
I got some pretty women on they toes |
Bag full of molly made me overdose |
We come alive, they say we cut it close, yeah |
We come alive, they say we cut it close, yeah |
We go to war, we got a hunnid scopes |
Okay, just jumped out into Vegas, dope ain’t payin' our wages |
Started with a bag full of pills, now we killing on stages |
People say they coming for the spot, that shit so outrageous |
This shit one for the ages, we got coke like the eighties |
And I just pulled up in the Benzo |
That’s my lil hiatus |
We spread so much love 'round the city |
How the fuck they gon' hate us? |
Swear that they forever jaded |
And they shit is going plated |
They just salty that we made it |
I just did a 180 |
If you ain’t 'bout your paper, I don’t know where the fuck you from |
I get that shit by me making hits, I’m tryna be number one |
And no matter what, I don’t sleep until I see the sun |
Every move I make for money, I don’t do this shit for fun |
If you ain’t 'bout your paper, I don’t know where the fuck you from |
I get that shit by me making hits, I’m tryna be number one |
And no matter what, I don’t sleep until I see the sun |
Every move I make for money, I don’t do this shit for fun |
Turn it up and break the knob off |
More lit up than you drinking hot sauce |
And this shit be so flame when they go and pull us over |
That I drop the windows and cops run |
Fuck with this |
While I do a hunnid with the top off |
All she wanna do is just talk 'bout the rock |
But everytime she do, then I nod off |
I’m with your bitch who don’t tell me to stop |
Richie Rich, I’m the new kid on the block |
Gold on my wrist, I got cash on the clock |
Diamonds be dancing on knuckles I pop |
Fuck did you thought? |
I don’t mind if you like it or not |
Keep to yourself with your thoughts |
Or you winding up hit on the spot, yeah |
If you ain’t gonna party then it’s best to go |
Homie, I know |
I’m colder than weather an eskimo knows |
Know that I got it |
Only drink in the freezer don’t ever get frozen |
I crack it open when I’m through with smokin' |
And I ain’t jokin', I’m in one of those modes |
I’m all about it and you not |
I been around, fuck you thought? |
Came from the bottom to the top |
Juggin' when I hit the spot |
Ain’t make it here to date a thot |
Don’t need the time to wear it out |
Give it everything I got |
And fuck anyone who I doubt |
If you ain’t 'bout your paper, I don’t know where the fuck you from |
I get that shit by me making hits, I’m tryna be number one |
And no matter what, I don’t sleep until I see the sun |
Every move I make for money, I don’t do this shit for fun |
If you ain’t 'bout your paper, I don’t know where the fuck you from |
I get that shit by me making hits, I’m tryna be number one |
And no matter what, I don’t sleep until I see the sun |
Every move I make for money, I don’t do this shit for fun |