Luyện nghe bài hát Paper Trippin'

Uhh, yeah! What's y'all? Dub C
Still chasin cheese, puttin it down
Whassup
[Chorus: Nate
I ain't rich yet, I'm still stackin G's (dem dolla dolla dollars)
Ain't afraid to bust back, all I need (we rider rider riders)
Nigga I rich yet, I'm still 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 really get it
Y'all niggaz ain't fo' a nigga that's gettin paper
Foe scraper, dice shaker, the white, Chuck
Dark fat laces and fetti with big-ass
gators (?), X.O. by the cases
The rider ringleader with and my zag smashin
Ya bang ambassador, givin it up back blastin ya
Off assassin-er, jackin for figures c'mon
Totalled up a rock, with a repetitive
The purple tinter, the big
The realest nigga you know, smellin doe doe and Pruno
Sick with the flow, low-lows and Harleys
Gather the at my mansions and throw my parole parties
Ex criminal turned corporate; elevated my game to worldwide
Tippin on trippin nia


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

[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, the bomb pow-wow
Gots to get my hands on that new style
all you nigga, toss liquor up
A rugged nigga smokin on a cigarette
Mashin and I ain't lettin the up
Cause all songs on my radio ain't ghetto enough
Shutted 'em up with the in the cut, I'm sweated to bust
Dub C'zy, fo'ever, 'em up
Hands down I'm the man
Who else could a gang hop and turn it to a national dance
Givin the fans a glance of a rider his pants
with my rag on my cane standin in a penguin stance,
Worldwidin, ridin,
Fool sincerely yours the Ghetto Heisman, paper trippin


Dub C, ghetto extrordinaire, hood
through with fingers in the air
Y'all know what it is
[Nate] Nigga I rich yet, I'm still stackin G's
[WC] Dem dolla dolla