Paper Chase

Chorus 2X: (Cream) I don't care what people say I'm gonna get 'em for a paper chase I don't care what people say I'm gonna get 'em for a paper chase (EMP) Know I got that feeling that the pimp gone make a killin' Droppin' them bodies off by the dozen I wouldn't mind, makin' a zillion Cuz there ain't no love, like that love that's on the down low Always watch your back, for some of them niggas they call your kinfolk I'd rather be broke, then one of them niggas that's on the board Every option that I got, got me livin' by the ???? Over here, givin' a toast, to some of the niggas that did they dirt Nothin' wrong with recognizin' the real, fightin' and puttin' in work I got some things I need to do, in the pursuit, in my one lifetime And ain't no more two-stompin' me, only grant for makin' my grind And I'ma get in, where I fit in my nigga, we both can roll, for the ride Sleepin' your head And nigga you fall to your knees when it's time to compromise I'm at the point of no return, only concerned with the fact Know that I feel with this hustlin' two thousand trick Tryin' to hold you back On the bow, leanin' with one foot ahead and the bow, is bound to break No more shots, no more pop Because he's dead and it's time for the paper chase Chorus (Mac Cris) Now smoke a blunt wit'cha boy, commit Cream got that green Now shoot them toys wit'cha boy, cuz you know we on the scene And put them things in your face, cuz I'm ready to catch this case You fuckin' around with me and Cream gone do this shit today Now get it crunk wit'cha boy, don't front on your boy And if you thuggin' up in the gates, let me see you get it up Now hold it down with your nigga, when you smokin' up in the truck Cuz you claim that you smoke pound, but you might get your shit smoked up K to the I to the N to the G G to the A to the T to the E Smokin' and chokin' on swisher sweets Keepin' you crunk and in on your feet In this game ain't nothin' but G's Fuck that shit you tryin' to plead One in your head and then you dead and you gone fall to your knees HEY!!!!! Chorus (Cream) Now smoke a blunt wit'cha boy, smoke some fire green with me Go and get some plastic toys I think somebody tryin' to get me I can't FRONT on ya boy, cuz every night I'm gettin' that green Everybody be smokin' a pound, with the Cream on the scene Don't make me get crunk on ya boy, cuz real niggas they move in silence I've been known for shootin' them toys in case them suckas wanna get violent Now what'cha want from your boy? Cream olde English and some of this weed Turnin' all of my enemies into manipulatin' fiends But if you want it, you can get it If you smoke it, two can hit it I ain't perpetratin' with it I'm gone hit it until it's finished And just like Popeye eat his spinach, I'ma stay crunk off this all day I don't care what the people say, WEED make my paper straight So HOLD IT DOWN wit'cha boy, don't hesitate to get 'em up Go head and smoke up what you smoked up cuz today we gettin' fucked up We smoke a pound up in my chevy, rollin' round we makin' credits I ain't messed up bout no change We havin' thangs and I'ma remain the same On top of the game, you niggas just can't get crunk up like my crew do Nigga we smoke weed like Wahoo, I get fucked up cuz I want to Now who knew? That Cream'll be makin' the money with niggas that get paid? Sippin' on Dom and I parle' HEY!!!!! Cream about that paper chase!!!!! Chorus (.5x)