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Bun B - Paperwork Lyrics



Bun B - Paperwork Lyrics




[ Featuring Uncle Murda, Statik Selektah ]

Yeah I'm a dynamic duo all by my damn self
I got that fire, the hottest shit on the damn shelf
Niggas go right, I'ma pan left for GP
I don't need them niggas to see me, be easy
Runnin' your mouth, but you don't know what you be talkin' 'bout
Soon as we see them f*ck boys come in, we walk 'em out
That's right, we gotta even up the odds now
Pullin' up the skirts and exposin' all of the frauds now
Because it's later for you snakes in the grass
That's what's wrong with the hood, you let niggas that's fake get a pass
But meanwhile, real niggas die at a high rate
From the west coast to the dirty south to the tri-state
You know we hatin', why wait? Give that nigga the blues
Run up on him, flash the strap, he gon' shit in his shoes
Piss in his pants and pass out
Then we dig in his pockets and take the cash out and leave him ass out

I saw that paperwork, ya homie a rat
How you still hangin' with him, you been knew about that
Huh, but we gon' get back to that later
Malcolm X would be alive if what's-his-name wasn't a hater
I ain't march when them other million niggas did
But I marched in Brooklyn when they had the parade for BIG (Biggie!)
White America on drugs, bet they sniffin' lies
Pull 'em over like they black, watch how many pills you find (Watch)
But they ain't gon' pull 'em over 'cause they ain't black (They not)
I saw that paperwork, you can't tell me you ain't rat
We all did some shit, be wishin' we could take back
But you cooperated with police, I can't relate to that
When you a street nigga, certain shit you ain't supposed to do
That paperwork comin' out, niggas gon' be exposing you (You are wack)
Oh, we live on TIDAL right now, come see this real nigga rap
Uncle Murda and Bun B
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Yeah I'm a dynamic duo all by my damn self
I got that fire, the hottest shit on the damn shelf
Niggas go right, I'ma pan left for GP
I don't need them niggas to see me, be easy
Runnin' your mouth, but you don't know what you be talkin' 'bout
Soon as we see them f*ck boys come in, we walk 'em out
That's right, we gotta even up the odds now
Pullin' up the skirts and exposin' all of the frauds now
Because it's later for you snakes in the grass
That's what's wrong with the hood, you let niggas that's fake get a pass
But meanwhile, real niggas die at a high rate
From the west coast to the dirty south to the tri-state
You know we hatin', why wait? Give that nigga the blues
Run up on him, flash the strap, he gon' shit in his shoes
Piss in his pants and pass out
Then we dig in his pockets and take the cash out and leave him ass out

I saw that paperwork, ya homie a rat
How you still hangin' with him, you been knew about that
Huh, but we gon' get back to that later
Malcolm X would be alive if what's-his-name wasn't a hater
I ain't march when them other million niggas did
But I marched in Brooklyn when they had the parade for BIG (Biggie!)
White America on drugs, bet they sniffin' lies
Pull 'em over like they black, watch how many pills you find (Watch)
But they ain't gon' pull 'em over 'cause they ain't black (They not)
I saw that paperwork, you can't tell me you ain't rat
We all did some shit, be wishin' we could take back
But you cooperated with police, I can't relate to that
When you a street nigga, certain shit you ain't supposed to do
That paperwork comin' out, niggas gon' be exposing you (You are wack)
Oh, we live on TIDAL right now, come see this real nigga rap
Uncle Murda and Bun B
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Patrick Baril, Bernard Freeman, Lenny Grant
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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