Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Paper Chase (feat. Fatal), artist - Tear Da Club Up Thugs. Date of issue: 31.10.2000
Record label: Sony
Song language: English
Paper Chase (feat. Fatal) |
| When it’s on then it’s on, it can’t be erased |
| Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal, we on a Paper Chase |
| Never wastin' em |
| Had a slug bug chasin' em |
| Spin em before they spun |
| The M-1, close-casin' em |
| Defacin em like county property |
| He’d die for me |
| Spittin' on your whole image, I rob you and make a mockery |
| Yo ya see that party by Haus Cucasimenas |
| Trife on that ass |
| Who better hit the ground fizast |
| Fuck that financially |
| Fatal stable satanically |
| Mash on your little stash niggas testin' the family |
| Play the eddie cane with your petty game |
| Breakin' ya un-ready friend when you fuck with who-freddy sein |
| Nigga dip off blood, I get that back and let the free fall |
| Hit ya with six shots, let you in bail ass hits off |
| Fatal Hussein, from the cradle to the grave |
| Tokin' like big Suge till every label know my name |
| And they ask 'Whats up with Yak and who shot Pac? |
| And who rode on you tryin' to test the block' |
| When it’s on then it’s on, it can’t be erased |
| Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal, we on a Paper Chase |
| What the fuck! |
| Those niggas bailin out of range rovers |
| Lucky Louisiana, lucky as a fuckin fully clothed camera boy |
| The cast there, hangin mother fucker sat there |
| Sayin now she was a tear da little homies at chess game |
| Dodge all my life, these niggas no good the trigger man |
| Fatal flaw man from another hood doin yeah |
| Those are the rules in this mafia race |
| Tear Da Club up Thugs mash down on a g-string… |
| When we drop |
| Always keep them cocked |
| Make them things pop |
| On the block |
| Niggas never stop |
| Tryin' to run cops |
| Out the hood, Niggas no good |
| Ridin' in the wood |
| With the grain, fatal hussein |
| Gonna bring the pain |
| Put the coo to your 40 brew |
| Robbers on the loose |
| Nothing new cuz we let em out |
| If we fight or shoot |
| All you hoes weak |
| And I know do you wanna roll |
| With these thugs livins |
| In the blood ghetto hesito foo |
| Break out artillery, hide the mother fuckin' product |
| Break out artillery, hide the mother fuckin' product |
| When it’s on then it’s on, it can’t be erased |
| Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal, we on a Paper Chase |
| Now it is time to get rough with the drama |
| Bitches you cannot escape from the hunter |
| Evil scarecrow |
| Devil spells go |
| Deep in my soul |
| Blood on my clothes |
| Criminal hands and I must squeeze a weapon |
| Listen to sounds of the lead when we steppin' |
| Infamous comes from the south territory |
| Listen to some of my demonic poetry |
| Circles of Triple Six men smokin' ganja |
| Ritual with dead bodies on the furniture |
| So many soldiers are coming to destroy ya |
| Six million sinister satanic warriors |
| Ill still, feel drill, will kill, nina-milli, flame a philly |
| I will fill the enemy with about twenty slugs |
| To the mug, one more trick in the mud quick |
| I want all my Tear Da Club Up Thugs to rip this shit |
| (fading out) |
| When it’s on then it’s on, it can’t be erased |
| Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal, we on a Paper Chase |