Paper Chaser

Lyrics
[Intro: Uncle Murda] Ha ha, go! Brooklyn, MGM East New York [Verse 1: Uncle Murda] Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maserati, Bugattis Bimmers, Benzs and Bentleys, Benjis on top of Benjis This kush got my eyes low like I'm from Hong Kong Chicks around me with no bras and no thongs on Chains, watches and bracelets, Ciroc by the cases We smack niggas in the face with stacks of big faces Niggas ain't on our level, bury 'em, get the shovel Flow so hot, niggas think I'm related to the devil All of my jewelry heavy, none of my jewelry hollow My hoodrat chick teaching my model chick how to swallow I'm about a dollar, if I ain't chasing a dollar I'm lickin' and trickin' on some trick who head game is proper I'm strapped with the choppa, get you fucked up by the coppas Slug tearing through his vest, now he gotta go see a doctor Homie, show me the money, or show me a stripper Who could do something I never seen before and I'll tip her, ay [Chorus: Uncle Murda] I'm on a paper chase, I'm running to the money Go! Go! Go! I'm running to the money I'm on a paper chase, I'm running to the money Go! Go! Go! I'm running to the money [Post-Chorus: Uncle Murda] Go! Go! Go! I'm about a dolla Go! Go! Go! Shorty, you should holla Go! Go! Go! I'm about a dolla Go! Go! Go! Shorty, you should holla [Verse 2: Uncle Murda] Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maserati, Bugattis Bimmers, Benzs and Bentleys, Benjis on top of Benjis Money, power, respect, I respect money is power The government full of shit, they helping us move this powder How you think we get it? Homie, they help us get it Sit back and watch us live it, then send us to prison Even when we go to jail, they get paid, it's big business We ain't nothing but a number, homie, a bunch of digits Police, lawyers and judges, I hate them mofuckas They ain't really here to help us, their whole purpose is to fuck us Dope, big cocaina, fo' fifths and ninas Fell in the cases, I beat them shits like they was misdemeanors Models, hoes and divas, Lisa carry Sabrina Would've cut my chick off tour and got married to Alisha Twenties on top of fifties, fifties on top of hunnids We gon' shop when we get there, we don't fly with luggage, oh [Chorus: Uncle Murda] I'm on a paper chase, I'm running to the money Go! Go! Go! I'm running to the money I'm on a paper chase, I'm running to the money Go! Go! Go! I'm running to the money [Post-Chorus: Uncle Murda] Go! Go! Go! I'm about a dolla Go! Go! Go! Shorty, you should holla Go! Go! Go! I'm about a dolla Go! Go! Go! Shorty, you should holla [Verse 3: Cory Gunz] Murda, point 'em out and I chop a brethren in half For you, I drag 'em from Fordham to [?] Ave These niggas ain't got the shits they teeth do talk New spot, new lots, nigga, this East New York South BX Zoo, ooh, nigga we on Never too cool to die, ooh, nigga we chillin' Uncle Murda, Uncle Murda, who is these niggas grillin'? Heard he leaking to the [?], ooh, niggas be spillin' I was on one, two, and through another pair We had to cook his waffle, he couldn't hold his syrup We fare rare, never scared, say a prayer, spray a flare Hear his fourth in July on 4th of July, every year I be out, everywhere, heavy gear, never there Bloody bear, aim for them teddy bears, ready? Here I don't [?], you gon' sit on the Medicare Motherfucking rascal, Medicare, Betty here Gunz mob through any hood in the fuckin' tri-state NY state, high state, fly state, yeah, I skate [?], from y'all space, hear what I say Next pause I play Flex, get your top eight Pa-pa-pause again
Rate this song
0/5.0 - 0 Ratings
Loading comments...
Credits
- Writers
- Soul Diggaz
- Cory Gunz
- Uncle Murda