DevTakeFlight
Paper Route
[Chorus:]
If a n***a talk down then his ass get smacked
Me and Lil Jay stay ridin' wit dat Mac
Gucci belt on my waist and my bag cost a rack
Bitch of the year put his name on a plaque
I been runnin' to a bag got a n***a losin' weight
I'ma hit a lick and skip to another state
Bitch I'm on a paper route and ain't nun in the way
The way a n***a hate you'll think he get paid

[Verse:]
Make a n***a sprint like he runnin' at a track meet
N***as want fame they'll switch in a heartbeat
Tried to catch me lackin' but you know I keep dumb heat
Choppa solve a problem like it's working on a worksheet
Pull up to the house choppa leave a n***a stretched out
I ain't tryna box boy I'm tryna bring them Tecs out
Straight headshots, dumb n***a put that vest down
Hyped his head up now he thinkin' he the best now
Heat his body up while he talkin' on dat payphone
Hunnid round drum and it came wit a Draco
One false move I'ma run for his pesos
Glock wasn't on me so i had to let the K blow
I ain't tryna beef I'm just tryna get paid
I'ma bring the stick out like a n***a wit a cane
Actin tough for the net, fifty shots to his brain
Flexin' on the Gram, I'ma snatch a n***a chain
Pull up on the block make a opp do the race
Flex a hunnid bands in a fuck n***a face
You ain't tryna make a rap, then get the fuck out the way
Finesse a goofy out his check I can do this all day
Said he had bands but I caught him wearing Shaq's
Slide down to his crib make him have a heart attack
Got diamonds in my chain and MCM on my back
Something like a track coach make a opp run a lap
Give a opp fifteen like he working at Geico
Fu-fu ass chain caught his ass wearing fake gold
Tryna find a way to success like Diego
Shoot a couple shots so you know we don't play ho
VVS diamonds, fifty bands on my wrist
I just blew a bag, ten bands for the fit
Send some hollow tips since he thinkin' that he lit
If he oppin' on the low he gone catch a whole clip
I just made a play I be ballin' like the Knicks
Choppa hit his body make a n***a do a flip
I be gettin' to the guap, I be stacking blue chips
N***as see I'm winning so they try to steal the drip
He like to act tough, but he hide behind a PC
How you talkin' down but you low-key wanna be me
The way we pop out you would think that it's 3D
Wearing all black, masked up, you can't see me
[Chorus:]
If a n***a talk down then his ass get smacked
Me and Lil Jay stay ridin' wit dat Mac
Gucci belt on my waist and my bag cost a rack
Bitch of the year put his name on a plaque
I been runnin' to a bag got a n***a losin' weight
I'ma hit a lick and skip to another state
Bitch I'm on a paper route and ain't nun in the way
The way a n***a hate you'll think he get paid