Luyện nghe bài hát Paper Trippin'

Uhh, yeah! What's y'all? Dub C
Still chasin this cheese, it down
Nate?
[Chorus: Nate
Nigga I ain't rich yet, I'm still G's (dem dolla dolla dollars)
Ain't afraid to bust back, paper's all I need (we rider riders)
I ain't rich yet, I'm still stackin G's (yeah, yeah)
Ain't afraid to bust back, all I need

it out
What they hittin fo'? Look I'm sick of all this
Bullshit rappin, let's really get it
Y'all niggaz ain't fo' a nigga that's gettin paper
Foe scraper, dice shaker, the white, Taylors
Dark fat laces and fetti with big-ass
gators (?), X.O. by the cases
The ringleader with weed and my zag smashin
Ya bang ambassador, givin it up at'cha blastin ya
Off brand assassin-er, jackin for c'mon
Totalled up a rock, a repetitive offender
The purple tinter, the big
The realest nigga you know, like doe doe and Pruno
Sick with the flow, low-lows and Harleys
Gather the guests at my mansions and throw my parole
Ex criminal turned corporate; my game to worldwide nation
Tippin on paper nia


Big or big wings or big screens
Befo' y'all stands a ghetto with big dreams
I throw the dice, my eyes and rich roll 'em
Take my handkerchief and 'em, y'all know the slogan
Riders don't multiply shift gears
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck and stay high
The bigger the lick the the hit to cash it all
So whether they ready or not I'm it all
Wood grains and chrome frames the mode is
A trick that won't sang, dem thangs
Fuck the pain, me a label ain't shit funny
Look I'm tryin to touch that Rush and Cohen's money
Get the Neville's money and blow doja my stash on rich
And get my dick licked by the bitch
Fade ya, real boy major with tough shit they got
like three-way pagers, nigga I'm paper

[Nate
Paper is all.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. I

Testin testin, broadcastin
All day unleaded'll go fo'
No garbage no cut, just the pow-wow
Gots to get my hands on that new body
Floss all you nigga, liquor up
A rugged smokin on a cigarette butt
Mashin and I ain't the pedal up
all these songs on my radio ain't ghetto enough
Shutted 'em up with the in the cut, I'm sweated to bust
Dub C'zy, fo'ever, 'em up
Hands down I'm the man
Who could take a gang hop and turn it to a national dance
the fans a glance of a rider saggin his pants
with my rag on my cane standin in a penguin stance,
Worldwidin, ridin,
it's sincerely yours the Ghetto Heisman, paper trippin


Dub C, extrordinaire, hood fabulous
Comin with fingers in the air
Y'all know time it is
Nigga I ain't rich yet, I'm still stackin G's
[WC] Dem dolla dolla