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RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Текст (слова) песни: C-Bo - Paper Made

[C-Bo]
My whole crew is platinum
Quick to throw it down with Magnums
We ain`t duckin` when the guns start blastin`
What`s happenin`
West Coast rollin`, Benjamins foldin`
Nigga bank accounts holdin`, more loot than the jews
And I just stepped fresh up out some county blues
Had me all on the news, cuz I`m gettin` my paper
And my goal life now is livin` it major
Coppin` Crystal, Champagne
I`m in the `Natti with the blow brains
Leavin` my mansion up in Spokane
The dope Game, was lovely
Out with the flip rollos and drop Benzes when they clucked me
Now the haters wanna mug me, cuz I`m AMG kid candy on some dub leech
But fuck them tricks cuz they haters
They stick out like short thumbs around Playaz

[Chorus 2x]
All I wanna do is get my paper straight
Roll up highways sideways out the gates
Luxury livin` baddest women and I`m straight
Back up with the flames BITCH
I`m Paper Made

[C-Bo]
I still scream "Fuck the World" _Til My Casket Drop_
I give a fuck about parole and these bastard cops
He could see me on TV coat with two glocks and a P
Cuz some bitch nigga snitched on me down in Cincinnati
I bet the bitch thought he had me
Ain`t that a bitch how niggaz trip
That nigga must have been smokin` the cavi
I won`t rest until my `Natti niggaz get him
Run up in him hit him with a blade up of in his kidney
And leave him face down, real niggaz don`t play around
Paralyze that motherfucker from the waste down
Cuz he`s a bitch turned snitch on the next nigga
On sight I`m takin` his life with the Tec trigga
And give a fuck about his kid, cuz he didn`t give a fuck about mine
When I was servin` my bid
I knew he was a flunky, punk nigga dressed like a junkie
Runnin` around with a pound of bunk weed

[Chorus 2x]

[C-Bo]
See I`m all about the cash fool
Blast to get a mill and I keep it real fool
I owe court and the streets, fuck a deal
Wanna see me cuffed and stuck in the back seat of a cop car
When I got jewels and pull more strings on a good tar/guitar than a rock star
Cop car by the UB wanna do me down like Doobie
Straight haters is what you fools be
Hangin` on my balls like newbies
You do three`s dumped outta trees is how we do these
Enemies when we WC `em down like my crew be
Pack heaters nonetheless and now better leave his
Bulletproof vest down in the Beemer
Hit `em up we lead `em then streetsweap `em
We don`t need `em
That nigga`s a bitch like Ru Paul
Whipped his with his ass you`ll be sold like blue balls
We some murderers, haven`t ya heard of the straight killa
All black, the realest on the map, mission to get the millas
Y`all best off feel me, a motherfuckin` real G
In this shit Paper Made til they kill me kill me

[Chorus 2x]

 

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