I-20 - 'Dis Paper Lyrics


I-20 Lyrics

'Dis Paper Lyrics
[Talking: I-20]
A nigga gotta smoke to this shit
Oh that nigga just don't muthaf*ckin smoke

[Hook 1: samples "Get Big by Dorrough"]
Playin' playin' playin' playin'
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in the dumps (yeah)
Playin-playin' with this paper like I'm playin' in the dumps (yeah)
Watch-watch me youngster, motherf*ckin monster (yeah)
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in the dumpster (yeah)

[Hook 2:]
Watch me youngster, motherf*ckin monster
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in a dumps-
Watch-watch me youngster, motherf*ckin monster
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in the dumpster
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in the dumps
Playin-playin' with this paper like I'm playin' in the dumps
Watch-watch me youngster, motherf*ckin monster
Playin' with dis paper like I'm playin' in the dumpster

[Verse 1: I-20]
Playin' with dis paper and these hoes thank I'm the shit
Bod evolve paint job, nigga 7-10 split
And she look so super thick, hoping that I'll super trick
Cocaine, white Benz make a nigga shit bricks
In my hood they hitting licks, try'na come up off a flip
So if you can't shoot the jumper, then you better learn to whip
Niggas better watch they lip, fore I empty out a clip
Ole potato on a barrel so them niggas need a dip
Man this industry a trip, I consider this a gift
Bobby got a bunch of work; he ain't even got a shift
He ain't even got a fifth, he ain't even got a half
Do I got it for the low? Ye ain't even gotta ask
Run up in a nigga spot, I ain't even got a mask
Let my shooter do the murkin', I ain't even gotta blast
Man I need alot of cash, man I'm all about my change
If you playin' with dis paper why you niggas playin' games?
Yeah

[Hook 2]

[Verse 2:]
OG super Kush, yeah we bussin' out a zip
We just pulled up at the club, now we heading to the VIP
Order bottles of that Conjure, right there off the rip
Shit we finna make a movie nigga this is just a clip
Tell a friend or tell a bitch, matta fact tell some mo
This your ticket to the life baby we about to board
They ain't f*ckin' with the boy, they don't recognize a pimp
Got gorillas in the squad, nigga you are just a chimp
Nigga you are just a sip, nigga you are a just a prick
Got'chu bitches disappearing nigga you are just a trick
Gotta headed to my whip, got her hands all on my hips
Got her mouth on my gear shift, can you ride a stick?
Maybe we can make a flip, go ahead a pick a suite
But nigga she won't get a dime, cause I never trick or treat
Man I swear this shit is sweet, she about to have a fit
Playin-playin' with dis paper while she playin' with my shit

[Hook 2 x2: till fades]
Back to: I-20 Lyrics


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