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Cap 1 Paper Chase Lyrics

Last updated: 01/03/2013 05:38:45 AM

Chorus:
Deep off in that trap, trying to get my paper straight
Told my bitch I’m gone, I’m on that paper chase
Pulling out from the Lamb with the brand new paper plates
Chopping on, telling em that money like a mother fucking paper weight
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Wait till your feet gets on, nigga, we’re on that paper chase! (and what?)
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Told my bitch I’m going, and I’m trying to make that paper straight!

Told my bitch I’m going, and I’m trying to get that paper straight!
(Strong) First of the month, tell her I’ll be back around the 5th or the 8th
Got a crib in LA, another one .. ( away)
And I’m a fool with the K, so mother fucker make my day!
Yeah! We ain’t fucking with the niggas,
We don’t need no niggas, we don’t trust nobody (nobody)!
Got a trap house booming in the middle of the city,
What you mean, I got it?
Pull up! God damn, I won’t leave it!
Three of them bad, six, I’m decent!
Other one ain’t one,
That’s the one I show when I let a nigga peeping!
Uh, got white girl! Lady Gaga, Cyndi Lauper,
Paranoid, I can’t sleep at night,
So even with my bitch still got the chopper!
Hustle hard, I’m all about the dollar
Move that product, get that guala
Dope boy, I had a main plug
You wanna switch up, I get him to my partners

Chorus:
Deep off in that trap, trying to get my paper straight
Told my bitch I’m gone, I’m on that paper chase
Pulling out from the Lamb with the brand new paper plates
Chopping on, telling ‘em that money like a mother fucking paper weight
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Wait till your feet gets on, nigga, we’re on that paper chase! (and what?)
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Told my bitch I’m going and I’m trying to make that paper straight!

Told my bitch I’m gone and I gotta keep my mind on money (mind on money)
Everything I do, I gotta do it to the fullest, I gotta keep it 100
Watch was a 100 (watch was 100), drop was a 100 (drop was 100)
Stand up in the middle of the club, pop bottles, all the niggas I’m stunning
…nigga we’re running (running, running)
Back on the road to the richest, you can tell the mother fuckers I’m coming
Cold in the house, mucho frio, moving el peligro, vale mi amigo
All the niggas knowing zeros, all we talk is kilos, I just want reload!
Two.. twins, niggas
Paper plates when I’m pulling off in that Benz, nigga
All I need is my plug, I don’t need no friends, nigga
They had Benz but I’m trying to graduate to them Ms, nigga

Chorus:
Deep off in that trap, trying to get my paper straight
Told my bitch I’m gone, I’m on that paper chase
Pulling out from the Lamb with the brand new paper plates
Chopping on, telling ‘em that money like a mother fucking paper weight
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Wait till your feet gets on, nigga, we’re on that paper chase! (and what?)
Paper chase, paper chase, paper chase
Told my bitch I’m going and I’m trying to make that paper straight!






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