Paper Chase - Jim Jones, Trav

Woke up in a daze bitch all in my face

One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid

Throw on my new J’s then I hit the streets

Bills 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 a daze bitch all in my face

One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid

Throw on my new J’s then I hit the streets

Bills 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

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 a daze bitch all in my face

One thing on my mind is I gotta get paid

Throw on my new J’s then I hit the streets

Bills 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