me of something I miss the days when our fingers were touching Chorus: The memories of losing you You're like a ghost Tracing where I said to you I wish
of something I miss the days when our fingers were touching Chorus: The memories of losing you You're like a ghost Tracing where I said to you I wish
Whoever don't wanna get down, they stupid Not the one to jump around these blocks like Q-bit Ain't nobody out there making no noise Wit they own route but that nigga Paper
love, what's the mission? Because you still live in your daddy and your momma house Shoulda knew homie was not about to go the dumber route Left you
what I got in my cabinet Somebody hit me with a little, baseline or groove, knahmsayin? Yeah, breakfast food, UHH! [C] When you wish [I] When you wish
up(shake em up) take em before I throw em out Go all out(go all out) that's wen we gamble man without a doubt Paper route use all the grinds words as
to ball Cause I fall a victim so I still be slanging them fat pillows To make 'em meet, each and every day as I comb my city streets Sometimes I wish
shed Ya name still appears in my head It seems like yesterday we floated to Queens Holdin' cream, only 16, 'bout to load up the triple beam Paper chasin
, assault and battery You think you madder than me You think you madder than me Lets here you say stuff Stay tough, you trying to be sand paper but you
I said it Personal Take a personal Take it personal, punk, I'm talkin' to you And if they agree with you, then your crew too I never diss an emcee, I wish
money so long its just paper to me take all my memories with you and just erase it for me you can never reminisce when you forget it all careful what you wish
must you suffer this when really love, what's the mission? Because you still live in your daddy and your momma house Shoulda knew homie was not about to go the dumber route
the members of the gang with 28 While haters wish death 'pon me, that's many men Yeah, and if you slaim you on your paper route Stop talkin', motherfucker, pull your paper
around like grieve and heal and mourn I feel fine we may not have been born as awake as you were It was much harder in those days we had paper routes
The stress of everyday living Is slowly corrupting my soul I'm 2 months out the joint on papers Walking with 3 years parole I did 4 and a half a slab
Whoever don't wanna get down, they stupid Not the one to jump around these blocks like Q bit Ain't nobody out there making no noise Wit they own route but that nigga paper
can get a glance at the Eihthype riches Bitches they wanna follow and peeps my route But soon catch a hollow and be assed out Ain't no competition Wishing