Tekst:
Jim Jones The Paper

Jim Jones: Go... Could you be my psychiatrist and make sure that my brain is right And I heard that you love to sue, you betta make sure that ya aim is

'm talkin' to you as a man How the fuck is you flossin' a Benz? Listenin' to this nigga Rick Ross dissin' 'em Jim Jones dissin' Jay This rap shit done

revolver The D.A., seargent and coroner's problem - now Highs get eight done, dips that don't play none Jim Jones, Freeky, Killa and the great one - Santana [Hook] [Jim Jones

drugs and the blood sets and I get love fuck this industry, I'm reppin every nigga in these streets so scream at me I been known braggin ..with Jim Jones

[Jim Jones] I grew up in the 'jects, five inch what I press Fry way to hold a tec, live bait I'm so brazy man In them pissy staircases, we just sittin

outside, its like showbiz (We in the building) (Girl) We stay fly, No Lie ,You know this (BALLIN!) Hips and Thighs, Oh my, Stay focus (Jim Jones) Ya boy gettin paper

revolver The D.A., seargent and coroner's problem - now Highs get eight done, dips that don't play none Jim Jones, Freeky, Killa and the great one - Santana [Hook] [Jim Jones

blue, sound of my shit droppin my shit, dropped nigga my ..jumpin i'm hip hop ...with the dough.. my pinky on blinky shawty so kinky got my slinky on twinkie paper

short ain't got no reset So do what you want, not what they expect And in the meantime Clockin hella checks While you fly real high on them paper jets