| [Z-Ro] You got to get your paper in this game | |
| If you a hustler (if you a hustler) | |
| Niggas be playing with this thang, but you all about your change | |
| They can't touch us (they can't touch us) 24/7 all day, and in business | |
| But on the low, 5-0 ain't gon witness it | |
| I'm in the alley with them quarters and halfs up in my hand | |
| Thinking of a master plan, | |
| I can Hustle all night, to the early morn', | |
| I can Flip and serving rappers, serve his dome | |
| And if a nigga plotting on me, | |
| I disturb his home | |
| And then straight up fore' they even, as | |
| I swerve his dome [Chorus] | |
| Get your paper hustling up in these city streets | |
| Don't forget to spending 10 thousand dollas on c.d.s | |
| And if you rapping ain't no handouts in this industry | |
| Whatever you can take your time | |
| Get your paper hustling up in these city streets | |
| Don't forget to spending 10 thousand dollas on c.d.s | |
| And if you rapping ain't no handouts in this industry | |
| Don't let it take over your mind [Z-Ro] | |
| I use to set up shop bout six o'clock | |
| In the morning on my grind | |
| Powder packs and crack and nerve sacks | |
| Out of the ghetto was on my mind | |
| Needed to relocate with the thought of location, keeping it on the low | |
| Cause when niggas beep you all the time | |
| It seems they act friends, just to get your dough | |
| But it ain't no raw to me | |
| I ride with the armory, the | |
| AR 1-5 Collecting my digits and spinning my tires | |
| No time for conversation, | |
| I gotta ride | |
| Back to my safe place, stash spot for the waste plate | |
| Cause I'm a go getter, if the game escapes | |
| Balling was the picture, cause there was no hitter | |
| Niggas is sinning major | |
| Nothing but home runs when | |
| I swing my bat | |
| But some of these niggas be playing crooked | |
| So I can't forget to bring my gat | |
| And when it's all said and done | |
| I'ma redo my walls with platinum placks | |
| At the Source | |
| Awards, with a granddaddy | |
| Couple of drinks, straight like that [Chorus] [Z-Ro] | |
| I'ma get my paper, hustling up in this rap game | |
| I'm moving my units, | |
| I'm moving my heart it's all for stacks man | |
| And once I get it, it ain't gon be no turning back | |
| Fuck the boomerang affect, making motherfuckers hate me | |
| From a distance, hopping fences in an instant | |
| Trying to get away from the long arm of the law | |
| Jepordize my benjamins, | |
| I will be forced to put some harm on your jaw | |
| My attitude be raising it's amazing, | |
| I'm not locked for man slaughter | |
| Because I love my plastic princess, and | |
| I can't keep my hands off her | |
| She be right next to my nuts, everytime | |
| I deal with hoes and crews | |
| Send my bitch to fucking suck it bitch, before | |
| I know they move | |
| Is that gangster enough for you baby, | |
| Ro gotta get his dough bro | |
| Bending corners, in a tinted out four do' | |
| Volvo, blowing dro hoe [Chorus x2] |
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