Paper Chase Lyrics

Still chasing them hoes

Woke up in the days each all in my face
Wanting on my moneys I gotta get paid
Doin' my the jace when I hit the streets
Who's gotta get paid
Baby gotta eat oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin'
Racks I'll be chasin
I ain't chasing these hoes
Focus on this money
I'm just getting this dough oh oh

They talking money no I'm speaking fluent
If you're talking lawyers let's keep it Jewish
If it's dropped top let's keep it ruthless
If you talkin' promise you know we get stupid
If I'm sleeping I dream on
If I sleep then my team on
Niggas beefin' out in the streets
Money puttin' the beam on
Quadruple with that racing pal, yeah
Yea, I'm master of the face and black
Some of team just to make you back
And all that damn try to make you stack
My bitch in Atlanta, get money, bring the hammers
Once she talking and understand her
She give me brand and call it country grammar
And I'm getting bread, all kind of dough
While I'm getting' head I'll be countin' dough
Fuck the feds, I'm a drown in dough
And my trunk look like it ain't my top
In this pump just might gonna shake that block
I want this done so unlace the watch
Hundred carrots, no bunny rabbits
Motherfucker, this straight up box

Woke up in the days each all in my face
Wanting on my moneys I gotta get paid
Doin' my the jace when I hit the streets
Who's gotta get paidJim Jones - Paper Chase - http://motolyrics.com/jim-jones/paper-chase-lyrics.html
Baby gotta eat oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin'
Racks I'll be chasin
I ain't chasing these hoes
Focus on this money
I'm just getting this dough oh oh

I'm just tryna get it how I live shawty
I'm just tryna eat, who got a pill for me?
My baby need a crib homie
Better yet, my baby need somewhere to live broadie
Ridin' 'round with that thorny
Pistol talk 'til I point it
Give it up when I want it
Give everything out of this joint
Got a body on the floor
A body on the court
Body at the starters screaming murder that you wrote wut
Is you who from?
'Cause I ain't going in until my bill's done
My bills gotta be paid up
Post cup, laid up till I count this paper
Gotta get my cake up, baby need some peppers
Hoes want shopping spree
I guess I'm nigga
Going on the ride sprays
'Til I get a jace
Tell I bring home a hundred G's
I'm a rubber nigga for a hundred piece

Woke up in the days each all in my face
Wanting on my moneys I gotta get paid
Doin' my the jace when I hit the streets
Who's gotta get paid
Baby gotta eat oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin' oh oh
I'm on the paper chase, paper chasin'
Racks I'll be chasin
I ain't chasing these hoes
Focus on this money
I'm just getting this dough oh oh