Luyện nghe bài hát Paper Trippin'

Uhh, yeah! What's y'all? Dub C
Still chasin this cheese, puttin it
Whassup
[Chorus: Nate
Nigga I rich yet, I'm still stackin G's (dem dolla 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 to bust back, paper's all I need

it out
What they hittin fo'? Look I'm sick of all 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, Chuck
Dark fat laces and fetti with big-ass
gators (?), X.O. by the cases
The rider ringleader with weed and my zag
Ya bang ambassador, givin it up at'cha blastin ya
Off brand assassin-er, for figures c'mon
up a rock, with a repetitive offender
The purple tinter, the big
The realest nigga you know, smellin doe doe and Pruno
with the flow, swangin low-lows and Harleys
Gather the guests at my mansions and my parole parties
Ex criminal turned corporate; elevated my game to nation
on paper trippin nia


Big beans or big or big screens
y'all stands a ghetto nigga with big dreams
I the dice, close my eyes and rich roll 'em
Take my handkerchief and 'em, y'all know the slogan
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 grains and chrome frames the is hang
A trick that won't sang, transported dem
the pain, give me a label ain't shit funny
Look I'm to touch that Rush and Lyor Cohen's money
Get the money and blow doja with my stash on rich
And get my dick licked by the baddest
Fade ya, boy major with tough shit they ain't got
like three-way pagers, nigga I'm trippin

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

Testin testin, broadcastin
All day go fo' forty-nine
No garbage no cut, the bomb pow-wow
Gots to get my hands on new body style
Floss all you nigga, toss up
A rugged nigga on a cigarette butt
Mashin and I ain't lettin the up
all these 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 down I'm the man
Who else could take a gang hop and turn it to a national
Givin the fans a glance of a rider saggin his
with my rag on my cane standin in a stance, nigga
Worldwidin, ridin,
Fool it's sincerely yours the Heisman, paper trippin


Dub C, ghetto extrordinaire, hood
Comin with fingers in the air
Y'all know time it is
[Nate] Nigga I ain't yet, I'm still stackin G's
[WC] Dem dolla dolla