Scrilla, Scratch, Paper

Lyrics

[Intro: JT the Bigga Figga] Hahahaha, yeah, mayne, haha Back up in this motherfucker You got your boy JT the Bigga Figga, mayne Just chillin' with my folks 11/5 and Cougnut up in the studio Premier productions puttin' it down from a G's perspective And I got my boy TC in the motherfuckin' house You got your boy JT, mayne, we layin' it down That Frisco shit, check it out [Verse 1: Maine-O] Who you pullin' your weapon to? Nigga, who you think you steppin' to? I'm packing two Glocks, and if I see your weapon, fool, I'm letting loose You're trying to take away my Peruvian Well, click-clack, put in a casket is what you'll be instead be doin' That suicidal G shit, and I know I won't rest 'Cause all I know is pimpin' them hoes to make cash and blast, nigga That, lotta money and drugs, keep Vega's and bust And I ain't got love for you bitches, I just got love, uh [Verse 2: Hennesy] I'm sick of niggas smiling in my face but don't like me Jealous of my fame and my game but won't fight me Telling all my hoes that they think a nigga's shiesty Because I'm clocking dough and peeling hoes and laying pipe See, I throw from the shoulders 'cause I'm a soldier from the Bay And if you wanna play then make way for the AK Nigga, say, what you want but you can't stop it I'm laying you on your stomach with the gat then rip them pockets [Chorus: 11/5, JT the Bigga Figga] Scrilla, scratch, paper Tryna get my paper but they just don't know, playa Scrilla, scratch, paper Checking my grip, I'm getting my mail I'm thinking about my clientele Scrilla, scratch, paper Going out to my Frisco homies, yeah Scrilla, scratch, paper Tryna get my paper but they just don't know [Verse 3: Cougnut] I pack a Glock in case I gotta pop a shiesty motherfucker Tryna set up shop on my fuckin' dark block 200 block dog mackin', millimeter packin', head crackin' Young BG's down for the scrilla jackin' Get your Glocks ready 'cause I'm 'bout to throw a fit And pistol whip all you bustas with that ho ass shit You talk good ones, motherfuckers, but you're scared to stop You set up shop, nigga, I'ma play connect the dot [Verse 4: Taydatay] Jump into the bucket, hopped to the fuckin' scene Slangin' the A-1 yola candy on them corners, making that green Having that cream, nigga What you gon' do if I be on your block? Bustin' at you niggas set trippin' and shit Better duck before I bust you out Better watch your back, better watch your step, better watch your motherfuckin' shit Before I creep and leave you niggas wet, dead as fuck And I be mobbin' to the death To you bitches, Taydatay; to you niggas, Taydatay [Chorus: 11/5, JT the Bigga Figga] Scrilla, scratch, paper Tryna get my paper but they just don't know, playa Scrilla, scratch, paper Checking my grip, I'm getting my mail I'm thinking about my clientele Scrilla, scratch, paper Going out to my Frisco homies, yeah Scrilla, scratch, paper Tryna get my paper but they just don't know [Verse 5: JT the Bigga Figga] Coming to get that green, the nigga that stack that paper Take that, making my money bundles 'Cause niggas be coming with dope and they running to Jake So then it rumbles Remember the game, the 50 and swang Come in the game, you cooking your thang You're bringing the pain, I'm making it swing Stacking my chips, scooping the grits daily These niggas be in my face but I be knowing these niggas hate me Acquired a grip, I'm checking my mail, I'm thinking about my clientele I'm moving my game to multiple stacks and flipping the tracks, I'm making it swell Can't you tell, these players be balling by the Bay They getting their paper, so what in the fuck you got to say? I wanted to be, a hustler that delivered the flavor You place your orders and come to the borders, dope is on the table Now I'm able, to give up the game and make it kosher While niggas is posted and lifted off Canadian doja Keeping it real wherever I'ma have to make the Fool ass nigga, scrilla, scratch, paper [Chorus: 11/5, JT the Bigga Figga] Scrilla, scratch, paper Tryna get my paper but they just don't know, playa Scrilla, scratch, paper Checking my grip, I'm getting my mail I'm thinking about my clientele Scrilla, scratch, paper Going out to my Frisco homies, yeah Scrilla, scratch, paper Scrilla, scratch, paper [Outro: JT the Bigga Figga] Hahahahaha, that's how we do that shit, mayne, for the '9-5 season, mayne We moving them ki's of legal dope, you know what I'm sayin' Deuce Sony MP345 digital audio cassette tapes And them high quality Ampex half-inch Hi-Fi's reel to reels Can't forget about them low tone positive frequency generators and them digital auxillary carbine power boosters You know what I'm sayin' We put our motherfuckin' mack hand down with that legal dope, mayne Can't forget about my boys 11/5 up in the house, mayne And the Cougnut, mayne, and all that ol' good shit Them Frisco players Can't forget about my GLP potnas over there, mayne Putting it down from a G's perspective You know what I'm sayin' D-Moe the Youngsta, San Quinn, Seff tha Gaffla, Brotha Moe Playa P, Rack Skerz, Rich the Factor, Young C-B-double O Can't forget about Fatter Rat, Trump Tight, and J. Larue My boy J. Mack the four track over there He an MC, and Rappin' 4-Tay, you know what I'm sayin' Proper DNA Street Records and Ken Dog at 12th Story Records, mayne Black-owned businesses, mayne We takin' over this motherfucker Better watch out, mayne It's goin' down, we taking over, mayne It's goin' down, that's all I can say, mayne That's all I can say, you know what I'm sayin' We finna get up outta here though, sideways