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Lyrics to The Paper (I Get it) (Freestyle)
by 50 Cent
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[edit]
Bartender bring the bottles of Rose
That bitch like me but I don't give a fuck
Bitch nigga smelling like good weed
Crush the hashish
Look I don't give a fuck
I'm so grimey
They can't like me
The paper I get it
The paper I get it
What the fuck nigga I rock
Like I got that style that'll keep me forever on top
Bitch, my drop top, make niggas feel like there's something wrong with there hustle
I'm eating, I suggest you niggas try this
Scrap the plate move the weight I got the itus
I'm sick, I'm addicted to the gold
You take a hit of how this feel you want more
Sorta like what crack did to boogie and New Jack
Wassup when I crossover, there ain't no coming back
Take a hit of this, this is what I've been cooking
Perfect product, customer good looking
This trip, this flip, I'ma get the count right
Do my numbers man, why your baker count light
That work you put out, that was stepped on
My shit raw dope, pur heron
Chorus
Bartender bring the bottles of Rose
That bitch like me but I don't give a fuck
Bitch nigga smelling like good weed
Crush the hashish
Look I don't give a fuck
I'm so grimey
They can't like me
The paper I get it
The paper I get it
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/CCHC
Here it is nigga, 1000 grams of uncut
Take it off consignment, fuck up and you're fucked
This is certified hood shit, ghetto gold good shit
Sniff a line of this, take a pull of that
This a fact, either which way you hiding that
I've been here before, it's so familiar
Bag up, fill up the paraphernalia
I wanna win so bad, nigga I wanna kill ya
Get in the way, I'm six spray I'm bad news
Denzel when the trumpet blow, more better blues
It's psychotic, my flows are narcotic
Tell me how you want it, my nigga I got it
For days, My money give me goose bumps
My pockets swollen, two lumps
Count it all, 10c no cent a dime
You know me, you know I got a hell of a grind
Chorus
There's nothing to it
I can smell hater
You know what this is
G-G-G-G-G, G-G-G-G-G
G-unit
This is therapy for me man
I just gotta focus on my art. I'm an artist
You can appreciate it
Like you appreciate a Picasso
Or an Andy Warhol, you should love me
When you look at me
You should say this is fresh
This is abstract
This is a work of art
This is 50
Til next time, G-G-G-G-G-unit.
That bitch like me but I don't give a fuck
Bitch nigga smelling like good weed
Crush the hashish
Look I don't give a fuck
I'm so grimey
They can't like me
The paper I get it
The paper I get it
What the fuck nigga I rock
Like I got that style that'll keep me forever on top
Bitch, my drop top, make niggas feel like there's something wrong with there hustle
I'm eating, I suggest you niggas try this
Scrap the plate move the weight I got the itus
I'm sick, I'm addicted to the gold
You take a hit of how this feel you want more
Sorta like what crack did to boogie and New Jack
Wassup when I crossover, there ain't no coming back
Take a hit of this, this is what I've been cooking
Perfect product, customer good looking
This trip, this flip, I'ma get the count right
Do my numbers man, why your baker count light
That work you put out, that was stepped on
My shit raw dope, pur heron
Chorus
Bartender bring the bottles of Rose
That bitch like me but I don't give a fuck
Bitch nigga smelling like good weed
Crush the hashish
Look I don't give a fuck
I'm so grimey
They can't like me
The paper I get it
The paper I get it
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/CCHC
Here it is nigga, 1000 grams of uncut
Take it off consignment, fuck up and you're fucked
This is certified hood shit, ghetto gold good shit
Sniff a line of this, take a pull of that
This a fact, either which way you hiding that
I've been here before, it's so familiar
Bag up, fill up the paraphernalia
I wanna win so bad, nigga I wanna kill ya
Get in the way, I'm six spray I'm bad news
Denzel when the trumpet blow, more better blues
It's psychotic, my flows are narcotic
Tell me how you want it, my nigga I got it
For days, My money give me goose bumps
My pockets swollen, two lumps
Count it all, 10c no cent a dime
You know me, you know I got a hell of a grind
Chorus
There's nothing to it
I can smell hater
You know what this is
G-G-G-G-G, G-G-G-G-G
G-unit
This is therapy for me man
I just gotta focus on my art. I'm an artist
You can appreciate it
Like you appreciate a Picasso
Or an Andy Warhol, you should love me
When you look at me
You should say this is fresh
This is abstract
This is a work of art
This is 50
Til next time, G-G-G-G-G-unit.
[edit]
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