Luyện nghe bài hát Paper Trippin'

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

it out
What they hittin fo'? Look I'm of all this chattin
rappin, let's really get it a-crackin
Y'all niggaz ready fo' a nigga that's gettin paper
Foe scraper, dice shaker, the white, Taylors
Dark fat laces and fetti big-ass faces
gators (?), X.O. by the cases
The rider ringleader with and my zag smashin
Ya bang ambassador, it up back at'cha blastin ya
Off assassin-er, jackin for figures c'mon
Totalled up a rock, with a repetitive
The tinter, the big spender
The nigga you know, smellin like doe doe and Pruno
with the flow, swangin low-lows and Harleys
Gather the guests at my and throw my parole parties
Ex criminal turned elevated my game to worldwide nation
on paper trippin nia


Big beans or big or big screens
Befo' y'all stands a ghetto with big dreams
I throw the dice, my eyes and rich roll 'em
Take my handkerchief and fold 'em, y'all know the
Riders worry multiply shift gears
Toss fingers in the sky, hoes and stay high
The bigger the lick the bigger the hit to it all
So they ready or not I'm snatchin it all
Wood and chrome frames the mode is hang
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 Lyor Cohen's
Get the Neville's and blow doja with my stash on rich
And get my dick licked by the bitch
Fade ya, real boy major with tough shit they 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 go fo' forty-nine
No no cut, just the bomb pow-wow
to get my hands on that new body style
Floss all you nigga, liquor up
A rugged nigga smokin on a butt
Mashin and I ain't lettin the up
Cause all songs on my radio ain't ghetto enough
Shutted 'em up with the tank in the cut, I'm sweated to
Dub C'zy, fo'ever, 'em up
Hands I'm the motherfuckin man
Who else could take a gang hop and it to a national dance
Givin the fans a of a rider saggin his pants
with my rag on my cane standin in a stance, nigga
Worldwidin, ridin,
Fool it's sincerely yours the Heisman, paper trippin


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