Luyện nghe bài hát Paper Trippin'

Uhh, yeah! What's crackin Dub C
chasin this cheese, puttin it down
Whassup
[Chorus: Nate
Nigga I rich yet, I'm still stackin G's (dem dolla dolla dollars)
Ain't afraid to bust back, paper's all I need (we rider riders)
Nigga I ain't rich yet, I'm stackin G's (yeah, yeah)
afraid to bust back, paper's all I need

it out
What they hittin fo'? Look I'm of all this chattin
Bullshit rappin, let's get it a-crackin
Y'all niggaz ain't ready fo' a nigga that's paper
Foe scraper, shaker, the white, Chuck Taylors
Dark fat and fetti with big-ass faces
Blue gators (?), X.O. by the
The ringleader with weed and my zag smashin
Ya bang ambassador, givin it up at'cha blastin ya
Off brand assassin-er, for figures c'mon
Totalled up a rock, a repetitive offender
The tinter, the big spender
The nigga you know, smellin like doe doe and Pruno
Sick with the flow, swangin low-lows and
Gather the guests at my mansions and throw my parties
Ex turned corporate; elevated my game to worldwide nation
Tippin on trippin nia


Big beans or big wings or big
Befo' y'all stands a nigga with big dreams
I the dice, close my eyes and rich roll 'em
Take my and fold 'em, y'all know the slogan
Riders don't worry multiply shift
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck hoes and high
The bigger the lick the bigger the hit to it all
So whether they or not I'm snatchin it all
Wood grains and chrome frames the mode is
A trick that sang, transported dem thangs
the pain, give me a label ain't shit funny
Look I'm tryin to touch that Rush and Cohen's money
Get the money and blow doja with my stash on rich
And get my licked by the baddest bitch
Fade ya, real boy major with shit they ain't got
like three-way pagers, nigga I'm paper

[Nate
Paper is all.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. (dolla dolla dolla dollars)
.. I

Testin testin, broadcastin
All day unleaded'll go fo'
No garbage no cut, just the pow-wow
Gots to get my hands on that new style
Floss all you nigga, toss up
A nigga smokin on a cigarette butt
Mashin and I lettin the pedal up
all these songs on my radio ain't ghetto enough
Shutted 'em up the tank in the cut, I'm sweated to bust
Dub C'zy, fo'ever, 'em up
Hands down I'm the man
Who could take a gang hop and turn it to a national dance
Givin the fans a glance of a saggin his pants
with my rag on my cane standin in a stance, nigga
Worldwidin, ridin,
it's sincerely yours the Ghetto Heisman, paper trippin


Dub C, extrordinaire, hood fabulous
Comin through with in the air
Y'all what time it is
[Nate] I ain't rich yet, I'm still stackin G's
Dem dolla dolla dollars