That's you with that bad ass Benz, ha?
That's you that can't keep your old lady
'Cause you keep fuckin' her friends, ha?
You gotta go to court, ha?
You got served a subpoena for child support, ha?
That was that nerve, ha?
You ain't even much get a chance to say a word, ha?
I know I ain't trippin', don't your brother got them birds, ha?
You won't bust one of them niggas heads, ha?
You ain't scared, ha?
You know how to play it, ha?
I know you ain't just gonna let a nigga come and punk you, ha?
Stunt and front you, ha?
Straight up run you, ha?
You know who got that fire green, ha?
You know how to use a triple beam, ha?
Shit ain't hard as it seems, ha?
You keep your body clean, ha?
You gotta lot of Girbaud jeans, ha?
Some of your partners dope fiends, ha?
You really don't want to fuck with them niggas, ha?
You come up with them niggas, ha?
You stuck with them niggas, ha?

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz' and don't be cryin' and sufferin'
You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz' and don't be cryin' and sufferin'

You can't do nothin' but love Fresh, ha?
You want to know what we gon' do next, ha?
You bought my tape with your check, ha?
You wearin' a vest, ha?
You tryin' to protect your chest, ha?
You spent seventy on your Benz, ha?
That ain't yours that's for your friends, ha?
You wanna stop these niggas from playing wit you, ha?
You wanna run the block, ha?
You wanna be the only nigga with rocks, ha?
You keep your gun cocked, ha?
You count the money at the end of the night, ha?
You on a three day flight, ha?
You full of that diesel, ha?
You duckin' them people, ha?
Your face was on the news last night, ha?
You the one that robbed them little dudes out they shoes last night, ha?
You don't go in the projects when it's dark, ha?
You claim you a thug and you ain't got no heart, ha?
You came in the 'Nolia on New Year's Eve, ha?
You got stuck in that bitch and couldn't leave, ha?
It was hard for you to breathe, ha?

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz' and don't be cryin' and sufferin'
You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz' and don't be cryin' and sufferin'

You got a trespassin' charge, ha?
That dick got hard, ha?
When you was lookin' at them little broads, ha?
You don't know when to quit, ha?
That's you with that shot callin' shit, ha?
That's you with that ballin' shit, ha?
That's you that's takin' them hits, ha?
That ho don't know when to shut up her mouth, ha?
You gonna knock that ho teeth out, ha?
You done switched from Nike to Reeboks, ha?
You twinkle your golds every time you leave your house, ha?
Them income tax checks out, ha?
You 'bout to flip that, ha?
You 'bout to go score you a gram, ha?
You gonna treat your nose, ha?
You 'bout to go put the dope dick on one of these ho, ha?
When you broke you drove, ha?
When you paid you got beau-coup places to go, ha?
You on top, ha?
You rob a niggas shop, ha?
You don't even think you can be stopped, ha?
You ridin' in the Benz on twenty inch rims, ha?

You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz and don't be cryin' and sufferin'
You a paper chaser, you got your block on fire
Remaining a G, until the moment you expire
You know what it is, you make nothin' out of somethin'
You handle your biz and don't be cryin' and sufferin'

Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa
(Woadie) whoa, whoa, whoa
(How do you love that?)
Nigga, nigga
Say you had a DJ and your partna got a gun
You better run for it, run for it, run
You in the Magnolia and my people got a guns
You better run for it, run for it, run
Say you under arrest, you didn't know partna got a gun
You better run for it, run for it, run
If I'm over rested and you see me with that gun
You better run for it, run for it, run

Copyright: Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): BYRON O. THOMAS, TERIUS GRAY