The Pape

Lyrics

[Intro] Huh? Niggas actin' like this shit ain't 'bout the money or somethin' (MIA JAY C) Huh? Ayy [Verse 1] If I don't know nothin', I know how to make a 'bow flip I ain't gon' lie, enough pape'll get a nigga ho hit Pandemic money gone, niggas doin' ho shit We don't never do no drive-bys, we do door kicks Every day I wake up, get up, grind like I want ten You would never see me judge a man like I don't sin Swimmin' in the deep end, so I tote fin If it's business, I'm VLONE, ain't got no friends Sold so many three-fives before I came the dope man Auntie don't fuck with cocaine, she a blow fan Unc' on the other hand, that nigga a snowman Been stopped sellin' work, still got it on hand Bankroll so big, I had to hold it up with both hands They wonder why the rappers wanna hang with the dope man He don't know my life if he don't sell Lindsay Lohan I been out here on my own ten, I'm a grown man I always check my back door, it be your own mans Everybody out here got a price, I don't want friends My plug put that one shit on the floor, I'm like, "I want in" Every day, I try to make ten bands before I go in (Huh?) [Interlude] Huh You gotta know that Niggas act like this shit ain't 'bout the money or somethin' Huh, run that motherfuckin' money up Huh? (Huh?) That's what you gotta know [Verse 2] That's what you gotta know The plug hit me with that one shit, I'm like, "Geronimo" Everybody knew I was gon' sell dope, even my mama know My fiends said they wanna see food, I'm like Pappadeaux In the kitchen choppin' those All my guns come with drums, I do rock and roll They say Skilla on fire, stop, drop, and roll My hoes be poppin' hoes My bros'll pop your bros Nigga soft as cotton rolls My mama'll beat your mama ass And if your mama touch my mama, I'ma beat your mama ass I don't do less than one-fifty, it's two hundred on the dash Chop a nigga hand off, I catch him reachin' in my stash Last year, I made two-fifty, I don't brag Seven hundred horsepower, who that nigga on that neck? I fell off a lil' bit, but this year, I'm back in my bag Back to makin' niggas mad I think a lot of niggas fags A lot of bitches wanna shag I got good sense, but ain't got GoodSense, Glad bag Young nigga, grown money I look up to myself, I got my own money PUA done, all my niggas gettin' phone money Short temper, long money Last year, you niggas was road runners The last thing I wanna hear is, "Let me hold somethin'" Brodie in the pen', he'll poke somethin' Skilla on the show, they know the G.O.A.T. comin' Your bitch comin' over, I know that throat comin' Every day, I text my plug, "I need work, let me know somethin'" Last year, I made two-fifty, this year, I'm makin' four somethin' I'm tryna get some pape', please don't call me if you don't want nothin' It's all about the Benjamins Huh, fuck niggas, get money, that's my temperament Ten on me every time I hit a bitch [Outro] No cap, nigga We gon' start the year off right New year, new pape' On God Huh?