I Get My Paper-Cassidy/Swizz Beatz

Chorus: (x2) I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/ I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin' you/ Verse 1: Look, if you deal coke and you still broke, start grindin' more homes/ Cause I'm a drug connaisseur homes/ In the hood, good jobs is hard to find, like dinosaur bones/ I'm tryin'a start shinin' more, homes/ That's why I make 'em 'Hurry up and buy', like that China store, homes/ Cause they'll give you time for a dime or more stones/ And tellin' ain't my twist, I ain't that kinda boy, homes/ But a lot of niggaz singin' like the Commodores, homes/ I'm ridin' when it's time for war, homes/ The chrome on my hip, could flip a fully grown dinosaur, homes/ I'm the kinda boy known to split domes when I palm the Taurus/ And spray rounds that could lay down a Tyrannosaurus/ My mind like a thesaurus, I'ma shine regardless/ My brain a dictionary, lames I'm quick to bury/ I spit scriptures and put pictures on obituaries/ So getcha own sound, tha Hustla home, now/ Chorus: (x4) I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/ I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin' you/ Verse 2: E'ry bar that I write, like a brick of that hard white/ I truly been blessed, this a gift from the Lord Christ/ But yo, if you livin' the hard life/ You can't give back the hand you was dealt, so play ya cards right/ They say you ain't promised them all, right?/ So I stay in them streets, like a deer that stay in that car lights/ With the highbeams on, and the fog lights lit/ I get, my lean on, on some boss type sh*t/ Until, my cream gone, I'ma ball like this/ In my all-white-T, and my all-white-kicks/ And I still toss the white on that strip, that's why I floss like this/ With the frostbite wrists, cause we all quite rich/ I love this life/ I threw different colour ice, and my cross like Swiss/ And all I give broads is hard-type dick/ Have them twirlin' they tongue, yeah, I know I got a girl and a son/ But um, this a man's world, I'm as thorough as they come/ Chorus: (x4) I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/ I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin' you/ Verse 3: I'm from a block where niggas get it poppin' at/ Where cats is known for boxin' and poppin' gats/ But you gotta aim low, when you poppin' that/ Cause that hot sh*t got kick, like a soccer match/ I'm from where the M1s and the choppers at/ Philly, where you could come to go gun shoppin' at/ You rockin' Plat, got ya chain with the watch to match/ Watch ya back, cause you gone if you ain't got ya gat/ Cats'll jack ya Pops if he ain't got a strap/ Cats'll rob ya Mom if she got a stack/ Cause niggaz tryina' get paid/ And niggaz not tryina' get waves when they rockin' the stockin' cap/ 'Round the way, they gotta go n' make pots of crack/ And you'll spend like 24 for a block o' that/ My niggaz tryina' get the cheese, but no, not to rat/ I'm from a block where snitchin' ain't an option at/ Chorus: (x4) I get my paper on my block, I get my paper from my block/ I get my paper all the time, I keep tellin' you/