Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Geluid


Koppel


Moeilijkheidsgraad


Accent



interfacetaal

nl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie beleid   |   Steun   |   FAQ
1
registreren / inloggen
Lyrkit

doneren

5$

Lyrkit

doneren

10$

Lyrkit

doneren

20$

Lyrkit

En/of steun mij op sociaal gebied. netwerken:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Brotha Lynch Hung

My Papers

 

My Papers

(album: Blocc Movement - 2001)


I used to push twenty-fo' deep in '92 like cocaine
Had them gangsta niggas riled up doing it with no name
Staying at the roach motel two for two cheese hamburger deals
Doing shows in broke down clubs just to get a meal (Just to get a meal)
I'ma keep it real it was all skills that paid your bills
And the fact that you don't pay niggas that shit gon' get you killed
But don't worry about me partna', like I said I'm already dead
And I hold this infrared point blank range steadily at your head
'Cause I'm a blocc nigga you know what happens when you fucking with us (fucking with us)
We cut your tongues off switch niggas and stuff bloody 'em up (bloody 'em up)
Run up in the cut, fucc it up, rough you up and put you up (Put you up)
These broke niggas don't give a mothafuck (Mothafuck)
I want that meal ticket and we never will kick it 'cause you funny style
Still wouldn't fuck with you even if you gave me my money now
Funny how ridaz get bought up, you about to get caught up like Bo King
You be getting niggas that's why you ain't got no team nigga

Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
So fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
Fuck your record company I'm about to blast off

I was young dumb full of cum full of O.E. and Rum
Spitting chunks of meat all heat always giving up where I'm from
In every verse 24 Blocc, I don't give a fucc
Suppose to be in the studio but I'm somewhere drunk fucking up
But like Too Short I ain't tripping
Used to be a record thing now it's a new sport put your clip in
I heard you be dreaming about niggas in ski masks with bottles of black molasses
Ran up in your pad quick and woke your ass up with the magnum
I could have been platinum, a loc' went bad when you jacked him
You getting old like Carl Weathers you ain't got no Action Jackson
I'm mirror watching when I'm packing nigga give me my shit
You the type of nigga that'll pay for hits I don't pay for shit
'Cause I'm broke you wanted it that why for some reason
Couldn't find you for nutting ever since I did Season
Of Da Sicc, pick 'em off like Deion everything you see me on
Is stolen in your life pure with' a colon seriously until it's over
I'ma always be at that ass with' a butcher knife
Asking where you put your wife and why'd I took your life
Houses got bought up you about to get caught up like Bo King
You be getting niggas that's why you got no team

Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
So fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
So fuck your record company I'm about to blast off

Shit it's getting to the point where I'ma smash on everybody
And it's getting to the point where I don't fuck with nobody
Believe it I tuck the ol' shotty in the glove compartment
Hit the town with the pound, it'll be ground round if you start shit
I spark shit, that heat you up and cool you off shit
No choice for relinking homes I'ma get my profit
We struggled for years on the bus with a record out
If it wasn't for shows I'll pull out the tec to take you out
Hit the cut and lay low 'till I get my shit right
Interrupt your day with fadeo'z put 44 holes in your windpipe
They know I'm... I'm sicker than sick when I split your shit
Leave you coughing up liver bits, fucking niggas'll get your grip
It ain't safe, nigga where was yo' faith? We could of blew up
Better watch how you do stuff can't wait for the new stuff
It's called Lynch By Inch I bit your bitch on the ground
I say where's the money? Swiss account
Bitch damn! That nigga's trying to get me for my papers
Bam! Hit her up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
So fuck your record company I'm about to blast off

Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
Fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
So fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
Fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! That nigga trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit him up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
Nigga fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn! Niggas trying to stick me for my papers
Bam! Hit 'em up with' enough lead got away with the caper
Ran! To the 1964 and smashed off
Fuck your record company I'm about to blast off
Damn!

You know what I'm saying nigga? (Shit)
Can't do that shit for ever nigga (You know you can't)
You know what I'm saying? You gots to pay niggas (That's real)
You know what I'm saying
Fuck all that shit, oh I'ma get mine nigga
Can't stop that shit (Can't stop that shit)
You know (I know) Back here where I'm supposed to be, you know? (Where that at?)
It's all Siccmade music nigga (You know)
Now what?

Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna get me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Niggas tryna stick me for my papers
Tryna stick me for my...

Rest in peace Biggie and 2Pac
You know what I'm saying
Niggas put it down
Shouts to them real niggas putting that real deep shit
You know what I'm saying, you know who you are
You know what I'm saying, making niggas cry over your shit
Shit, making niggas ride to your shit
I like that type of shit you know what I'm saying?
That drunk, high, ride, night time shit
Damn!

klaar

Heb je alle onbekende woorden uit dit nummer toegevoegd?