Paper touchin! I don't know
If your money right
But a nigga like me got paper

I don't know if your money right but
A nigga like me got paper (HUH)
I don't know what your money like but
A nigga like me 'bout paper (Red Cafe)
I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper
(That's all) all my niggas gettin paper
We got paper, we got paper
(You know I'm cooler than the
Other side of the pillow)
All my hustlers got paper

Listen up hustlers, I treat them bricks
Like the Wheel Of Fortune spin it
That's why I'm rich (DAMN)
Sick, I should have been in Saw IV
But I'm numero uno trick draw four
HEY! I wave at the haters
They know it's me I be wearin all the lasers
Shakedown, we paper touch
Ever since I came home and escaped the cuffs
Cafe, servin the East to the West!
(WHAT ELSE)
I got 'em on E like Ryan Seacrest
(WHAT ELSE)
The Wire said keep the devil in the hole
(THAT'S ALL)
But I'm the chef my kettle is never cold
It's whatever for the dough
Whatever on the 'flo
Like I'm from 'Frisco just tell
Me when to go (WALLA) Memorial Day in M-IA!
I made it Hurricane Chris, Ay Bay Bay

Coca baby, you know the streets we run this
You niggas wanna talk crazy
Till they catch at least a hundred
Owwwwwwwww!!
The internet say the beef gone digital
Nah I'm in The Bronx like in
The block with the criminals
Gat on the side but the
Mac make him miserable
You niggas piss sittin down like my sister do
A Bronx legend like Boy
George and Chicken Boo
Them Damou's keep hollerin out
That SOO WOO!
Haters, leave 'em front of the bodega
My nigga Arnold Schwartzenegger
Couldn't take us
I'm ready for war I'm callin 'em out
Where you at? Pulp Fiction red
Ball in his mouth i'm too real, Joe to ill
We run this shit wonder how Pun feel
I don't know if your money right but
A nigga like me got paper
I don't know what your money like but
A nigga like me 'bout paper
I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper
(WHAT ELSE) All my niggas gettin paper
We got paper, we got paper
(THAT'S ALL) All my hustlers got paper

HA-HAH! Yeah
Yo, if it look like a good write-off
I'm chargin it (uh huh)
The Gucci napsack got a couple large in it
(yep)
The CD player got El Debarge in it (hah)
Laid back, while your girl's massagin it
(woo) i keep my loot saved, sell mad crack
Other than that
Stay in the crib and watch bootlegs (yep)
Polo robe on, Louis Vuitton cleathers
Thick R&B chick, gettin my Hov on (OH!)
Soon as we unwrap 'em, cuttin the stove on
Cook 'em, cut 'em
And bag 'em then I'm gettin my O's on
I don't pay attention to internet bloggers
(nah) i really get it in
Wit the murderers and robbers (yea)
This is what a goon'll do
Treat your gravesite like a urinal
Then YouTube your funeral (hahaha)
It's just Jada
(yea) , and I might see you in hell
Much later, but right now I'mma touch paper

Baby, I touch paper, so much paper
We can split it down the
Middle like Dutch paper
And fo' real, I don't even call it paper
I got money out the ass
So it's toilet paper
Shorty good money in the back area (Woo)
Curve on her hip make me wanna Blackberry her
And everybody talkin duffle bag shit
Only paper in is prol'ly what
They stuff the bag with (fo' real)
My swag fit like it's tailor made yo
New York love me, I got a tailor made flow
Oh naw, I ain't who to go hard wit
My young boy'll do the job
Like the Omar hit, sheeiiiiiiittttttttt!
I don't know if your money right but
A nigga like me got paper
I don't know what your money like but
A nigga like me 'bout paper
I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper
(WHAT ELSE) All my niggas gettin paper
(Yeah! Yeah) We got paper, we got paper
(THAT'S ALL) All my hustlers got paper
(We touchin paper over here)

I'm paper touchin, hustlin, servin ev'ryday
You could even flip birds
Or flip burgers ev'ryday
You could work at Micky D's if
You ain't workin with the keys
I'm a person that'll squeeze if I
Ain't workin with the cheese
I air niggas out but when you
Tear niggas out of the frame
They say your name and start
Workin with the D's
Now certain niggas wreckless
But the same dude that try murk you
For your necklace be workin with detectives
They rats but they know
That snitches get ditches
That's why you see vest's
On certain niggas chest's
(UH HUH) I guess if
You from Kiladelphia Pistolvania
You gotta be a pistol banger
I'm the boss type off white crystal slanger
Keep a full clip and one
In the pistol chamber
So if you cross the hustler
Or my man Red Cafe!
You probably 'gon be dead that day!

Konvict!!

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Corey Williams, Jermaine Denny, Zukhan Bey