Paper lyrics

[Intro: Freddie Gibbs]
Uh
Yeah
Gangsta Gibbs, Gangsta Gibbs, Gangsta Gibbs
Gangsta Gibbs
Uh, yeah, Gangsta Gibbs
Uh, yeah, b*tch, Gangsta Gibbs
Uh, yeah, for sure, yeah

[Chorus: YB]
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
On the mic, b*tch, and I’m nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I’m on that Mike sh*t
Straight thug, n*gga, most of my life spent
Was on the black top working that white, b*tch
sh*t, it was just five hundred for the zip then
Got a plug and my homeboy chipped in
I was cuttin' seventeen when I bagged up
Pyrex, work your motherf*ckin' wrist in
Too turnt up to be turnt down
That's why the kush forest get burnt down
I got a muddy cup of that Texas dope and that good smoke from that Oaktown
b*tch, hundred pounds of the goods, what it cost?
Hit 'em with the ski mask, they get lost
I don't trick on these hoes, but I will pay your broke b*tch to back up off me
Drop them drawers, ho, f*ck all that talking
House on my neck, I call that balling
True sh*t, it ain't sh*t like a new b*tch, my old hoes, I don't call that often
Drop them drawers, ho, f*ck all that talking
House on my neck, I call that balling
True sh*t, it ain't sh*t like a new b*tch
Old hoes, I don't call that often

[Chorus: YB]
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
Uh, I hit her two weeks ago (For sure)
Got head in the Jeep before (For sure)
Straight bop with that sloppy top (Uh-huh), man, this b*tch was a freaky ho (For sure)
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke (Uh-huh)
Hurry up, let me beat it, though (Uh-huh)
When she ask me to eat it (Uh-huh)
I told her, take it or leave it, ho
'Cause this pimping sh*t in my bones (Uh)
Million cash on my mind, b*tch
Snowflakes on that stove, dope fiends on my line, b*tch (For sure)
Straight hand to hand
East side, on my land, I'm the man
Learned how to chef up them cookies, gotta let 'em to dry by the fan
We keep that chopped up in plastic (Yeah)
Gotta find a new place to stash it
Once I ran through my pack, hit the club, balled out like a draft pick
Keep that chopped up in plastic
Gotta find a new place to stash it
Once I ran through my pack
Hit the club, balled out like a draft pick

[Chorus: YB]
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
With a mic, b*tch, and I'm nice, b*tch
Six rings, yeah, I'm on that Mike sh*t
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
But I hit her two weeks ago
Sip the drink, hit the reefer smoke
[Outro: Big Time Watts]
Hey, man, I'ma tell you somethin', motherf*cker
You want beef with me?
Motherf*cker, you don't want no beef with me, b— baby, I'm your motherf*ckin' uncle
Man, you lil' b*tch-made motherf*cker
I raised your lil' b*tch ass, n*gga, you don't want no beef with me
I'm telling you
I'm Big Time motherf*ckin' Watts
I'll meet your b*tch ass outside right now, b*tch
I raised your lil' punk ass
I'll meet you outside right now, b*tch
You and your goons
On 14th at the park
Now, you wanna do it?
You wanna do it with me, b*tch?
I'll meet your b*tch ass outside— I raised your b*tch ass
You lil' punk
Now, now, now, now, now, now, now, now, let's talk
Let's talk now, b*tch
I'll get your motherf*ckin' ass f*cked up runnin' around out here
You know, I got— I got pistols too
Now how you wanna roll?
You wanna roll hard or you wanna roll soft, b*tch?
Nah, punk, lil' punk-ass motherf*cker
Don't call me talkin' that bullsh*t
Well, I'll meet you at the park right now
You lil' b*tch, I'll call me and my brothers
And I'll best you
Who gon' run now?
Your asses, you punk
Motherf*cker, I raised you like a puppy, baby
No, don't come here like that, man
I will f*ck your ass up
Punk-ass n*gga, I don't give a f*ck who you is
Freddie Gibbs
Man, I raised your b*tch— You a b*tch, B
Now, come on down, you and your boys
I'll, I'll have my boys right now
'Cause who gon' win?
You lil' b*tch
Don't call me— Don't call me with that bullsh*t