Lyrics
Paper chase, I’m on a motherfuckin' paper chase
Paper chase, I’m on a motherfuckin' paper chase
(Verse 1, Belo)
I need. Mo money, mo money mo! Some cum fast, some cum slow
Even though I got to pay my bills
I’m still on the streets tryina keep it real
Pass this B, let me take a hit
Hopin this money ain’t counterfeit
Give 'em two, and let 'em go and see lyin' the middle of the twenty’s so
Cuff that money, and lets be up
What’chu wanna ride, the Benz or the truck?
Bag up, get on the runway, cuz more Sunday’s hotter than Monday
Often gettin' trailed by cops, better get away by bendin blocks
Cop my Glock, don’t stick a middle finger up my ass, known to blast
Keep me down, where I’m from, I’m known to clown
Get a dub, off it now go get a sack, I’m back to a black
Acheive it, leave it, thug and a ashtray
More to the fact I’m back to the scene
Let the window down, and let all the smoke out (let all the smoke out)
And if Luke coulda broke out
Gotta make more stacks of these, so its eaz' for a brotha to breeze
Ain’t splittin' cheese wit a freak, wanna trick off so pick off the lame in the
game
Get’cha sick off the man who point the blame
Still a, P-O, P-I, M-P, we be, P-A, P-E-R, chase
(Hook)
(Verse 2, AK)
You see my ninth Mom smokin', money scopin' 'tween my fo
With open arms when my opposition, my mission it’s to paperchase
So when you face to face: mom and dollar, keep from the streets
Hit the joints like hollow-point
Figure, if you owe them, better load them
With po-po corruption on the phone double 1−9-1−87, with
A couple of zeros
I’m sittin' there makin' dollars
Verse 2 G, make a nigga wanted to holler
Back to the streets again, but a nigga wanna go there
The game didn’t treat me so fair
Crucial, in neutral, all eyes on me, I’m brutal
Choppin' up that paper like you know
Gotta clique, since I call them blue notes
Shippin' that paper from Earth to Pluto
Get that new song
Nineteen ninety-six, we be paperchasin'
(Hook)
(Verse 3, N.A.R.D.S.)
Check the paper like an entrepreneur
Had dreams about runnin' the Ford Explorer
Four G’s in my house from here to Florida
Nigga want cheese, but nigga want more
Bumpin' all the good shit cause all the good shit makes
You forget about the bad bitch
Now you make a nigga match wits
Never want what I never had, cause I never had shit
The basketball, the all, the ounce, bounce, A to the motherfucking K
I smoke the B but they keep on calling me
And they wantin' my apology
And they fall, and see it’s unexplainable, how money’s unattainable
If you play in this game
So nigga never call me names when I aim the gun but holler: ughh
A to the motherfucking K, with a motherfucking spraaay-yay-yay
A to the motherfucking K, with a spraaay-yay-yay
See a nine-to-five keep your ass out the line-up
Why don’t you keep the double-time up, pimp keep them lines up
Help 'em talk to shiner
(Verse 4, Twista)
Ya lookin' at the best win
The paper chase be for me?
Cuz you got blessed in with an eighth of a ki?
Niggas be creepin', comin' up, or confiscate, you ate?
And let you suffer to your fate with three
Bullets to the chest, put your body to rest
If you dont peep game, goin' for the g-stacks
Never re-lax, re-act! Don’t give away too many free packs
And check ya ho to see how she act
Get in the sick dreams, paid, you don’t pick teams
In a room full of dick fiends
Much love to thugs, that sacrifice they life
And get greens for they two for fifteens
What the shit means? Is you bitches better save your breath
Cuz you can count how many days is left
Let the weed smoke blaze my chest, until I’m laid to rest
A motherfucka gon' be paid til' death
Because I’m goin' on a paper chase
(Hook)