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letra de real paper - ron delorean

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real paper

ron delorean & jack

[intro: ron delorean]

yuh

yea

[verse 1: ron delorean]

only way is up
i ain’t going down
i ain’t missin’ much
so the steaks is ours
when you risk the bucks (yuh)
you can feel the power
they won’t move an inch
i’m out here buildin’ towers (yeah!)

built a tower out of cash
it did nothing in a stack
i invested in my ass
’cause i always had a nag
that i’d be the guy on top
with the plan, the plan, and the bag
here i sit in my suit
like i’d rather touch grass
can’t you hear all my blues?
i can’t change up the past
see the prints from my shoes
i can’t hide behind the glass (haha!)

[chorus: jack]

what would you do
if all of your dreams
were coming true?
if you had to fill
the rich man’s shoes
only person to prove
you can do it
it’s on you

[verse 2: ron delorean]

wooh!

final words hit like glue
had to forget about you
simple things become moot
so here i stake my flag
and i take off in my coupe
it’s the end of the bag
it could be my final move
time to find a new task
once i make this move
i can’t see through your mask

so here i find my peace
and i sleep with that ass
and i ain’t beefin’
i be peacefully sleepin’
tryna find a gatekeeper

[chorus: jack]

yeah

what would you do
if all of your dreams
were coming true?
if you had to fill
the rich man’s shoes
only person to prove
you can do it
it’s on you

[verse 3: jack]
yuh

lucky i was lookin’
at these blue strips
when i got shot
by cupid
my dreams reality
they no longer lucid

sometimes it’s better
to act stupid
make hit after hit
like these youngins
just dupe it

barry sanders
the way i been jukin’
pray every day
and hope a youngin
just ain’t gon’ lose it

spit like toothless
nike, just do it
rap, i’m fluent
smooth like the plane ride
when i flew in

wing everything
it’s better that way
so much cash
i got plenty to waste

[outro: ron delorean]

yup

i could whip any coupe
my rear mirror points at you
any distance for the blues
and they don’t
travel in my shoes

captain of the coupe
goin’ down with the whip
mr. hook on the track
with the fire that i spit

off the books
wearin’ suits
and off the grid
all the money turn to mist
and my dreams in my fist

i could let go like salt bae
melt gold like all day
ain’t nothin’ to talk about
still chop it up and walk away

i think we have enough folks
so that’s where we’ll stop today

wooh!

- ron delorean

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