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letra de paper! - yung flex

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[chorus]
all i care ’bout is that paper, b-tch
i’m in the cut like a taper, b-tch
real n-gga sh-t, i ain’t with all the faking, b-tch
ugh, i’m on my grind like a fakie smith
bad lil b-tch on the d-ck and she taping it
brand new wood, cop a zip, put an eighth in it
roll it up, spark it, plus you know i’m facing it
i just be cooling, don’t got time for hating, b-tch

[verse]
ugh
blowing that gas and i’m feeling amazing
b-tch i’m bluefacing, his pockets is vacant
i’m on that same sh-t, don’t gotta say sh-t
that n-gga hate me, i don’t even blame him
i’m in the back and i’m high as inflation
i’m with his b-tch and we having relations
that n-gga tough, but i’m using quotations
we not the same, we not even adjacent
ugh, ugh
n-ggas be making me sick like ne-yo
i put like 3-0 inside of the three four
glock put that boy in the sky like iyo
hе fade away, when i shoot its a three though
ugh, i’m sending shots likе tito’s
be what you want, but you ain’t gon’ be me though
to keep it a hundred, just gon’ be a zero
ugh
i up the choppa, he running a four flat
n-ggas be b-tching like go take a prozac
i come around, you ain’t getting your hoe back
f-ck n-ggas stuck in the past like a throwback
n-ggas my sons, and you f-ck n-ggas know that
hope you up quick, cause i shoot like a kodak
f-ck up my wrist when that motherf-cker blow back, ugh
i up the switch and it sound like its glitching
i’m feeling like max, keep a pole like i’m fishing
and if you ain’t the gang, i don’t f-ck with the vision
like motherf-ck the fame, tryna ball like a piston
like run this sh-t back if your ass ain’t been listening
i wet his block like a motherf-cking christening
i’m with his b-tch and she giving it up
if you ain’t shini, ain’t kicking sh-t, ugh
n-ggas be b-tch, i don’t know what to say
that’s okay, i’m only here for the pay
spitting that real, i ain’t come here to play
how the f-ck else imma get to the pape?
v12 money truck, i’m finna race
i never gave a f-ck, pick up the pace
n-ggas can’t be me, start pumping the brakes
b-tch i’m the best, you can’t even debate
ugh, ugh
back in this b-tch off the medical
n-ggas be snitching, these n-ggas be federal
choppa gon’ cut him in half like a decimal
knocking that n-gga straight off of his pedestal
ugh, he want the smoke, then it’s plentiful
n-ggas gon’ make me do something regrettable
i cannot f-ck with these n-ggas in general
[chorus]
all i care ’bout is that paper, b-tch
i’m in the cut like a taper, b-tch
real n-gga sh-t, i ain’t with all the faking, b-tch
ugh, i’m on my grind like a fakie smith
bad lil b-tch on the d-ck and she taping it
brand new wood, cop a zip, put an eighth in it
roll it up, spark it, plus you know i’m facing it
i just be cooling, don’t got time for hating, b-tch

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