Paper ft. Skully Lyrics

When it come to that paper

Never feel like

You done had enough

Redo them mathematics

What the fuck?

Something ain't adding up

It's always the little boy

Who cried wolf

That get his baggage took

I don't care if it's shake

I check the weight

And then I bag it up

Niggas really been mad at us

For making all this paper

All I know when it's time I'm gone

Don't hope to see you later

Keep turning down that temp

That's on my neck refrigerator

All my life I wanna go pro like

Tony Hawk but I'm no skater

In Vegas just me and ganger

Like what's the wager

Bet 5K on the fight

Just something light

Don't need the paper

Hate talking on the phone

I wish they still had pagers

I'm jumping to the sound

Of that ring just like a waiter

Going up like elevators escalators

We still moving at the top

Man I hate the taste of Tris

I'll have a deuce of Wok on rocks

Plain Jane Cartier

I ain't tryna bust my clock

Man they knew it was my time

I made them all stop and watch

If the feds get behind me

Tuck my Za down in my crotch

Yeah I always play it safe

Never riding with a lot

The smaller you keep your circle

The less likely they gone plot

It's the ones you think your people

Really tryna take your spot

When it come to that paper

Never feel like

You done had enough

Redo them mathematics

What the fuck?

Something ain't adding up

It's always the little boy

Who cried wolf

That get his baggage took

I don't care if it's shake

I check the weight

And then I bag it up

Niggas really been mad at us

For making all this paper

All I know when it's time I'm gone

Don't hope to see you later

Keep turning down that temp

That's on my neck refrigerator

All my life I wanna go pro like

Tony Hawk but I'm no skater

Load up them racks

Come to the back

Guap on the Wok

Cause the canceled the Act

Really the truth what I'm saying

Is facts you was fucking on bros

But you want me attached

Stop all that dissing

I'm feeling attacked

Next nigga play on my top

With my hat

And these bitch niggas mad

They done fumbled the sack

I'm not writing no songs

I'm not hitting you back

I'm a drop me a bag

Get the loc where they be

Let them sit on they street

And I'm getting em whacked

And it be the closest niggas to you

Thinking they won't but be

Stealing right out of your pack

Won't get it on

But claiming he grown

I admit I got help

But got it on my own

Watch how you talk to me

Lower your tone

I don't like sending messages

Talking on phones

My connect send a box of exotic

It's Strong even light depths

Don't be taking me long

Selling breakdowns

Even under a zone

I ain't tripping as long as

I'm getting em gone

Don't wanna get close to a bitch

And be wrong

You can't come to my spot

Bitch I'm taking you home

Roll me a wood

And take one to the dome

Turn my back on the world

In my brand new VLONE

When it come to that paper

Never feel like

You done had enough

Redo them mathematics

What the fuck?

Something ain't adding up

It's always the little boy

Who cried wolf

That get his baggage took

I don't care if it's shake

I check the weight

And then I bag it up

Niggas really been mad at us

For making all this paper

All I know when it's time I'm gone

Don't hope to see you later

Keep turning down that temp

That's on my neck refrigerator

All my life I wanna go pro like

Tony Hawk but I'm no skater