Paper Touchin Rmx - Cassidy, Red Cafe, Fat Joe, Fabolous & Jadakiss: Song Lyrics, Music Videos & Concerts

Cassidy, Red Cafe, Fat Joe, Fabolous & Jadakiss

Paper Touchin Rmx

10,981

Hip-Hop/Rap

Paper Touchin Rmx was released on July 13, 2018 by Def Squad as a part of the album Banana Clips Vol. 1

Song Details

AlbumBanana Clips Vol. 1

Release DateJuly 13, 2018

LabelDef Squad

LanguageEnglish

Melodicness

Acousticness

Valence

Danceability

Energy

BPM89

OVERVIEW

LYRICS

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

Lyrics

I don't know if your money right but a **** like me got paper

I don't know what your money like but a **** like me 'bout paper

I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper

All my **** gettin' paper

We got paper, we got paper

All my hustlers got paper

Listen up hustlers, I treats them bricks

Like the wheel of fortune, spin it, that's why I'm rich (Woo)

Sick, I shoulda been in Saw IV

But I'm numero uno, trick, draw four

Hey, I wave at the haters

They know it's me, I be wearin' all the lasers

Shakedown, we paper touch

Ever since I came home and escaped the cuffs

Cafe, servin' the east to the west (What else?)

Got 'em on E like Ryan Seacrest (What else?)

The Wire said keep the devil in the hole

But I'm the chef, my kettle is never cold

It's whatever for the dough, whatever's on the floor

Like I'm from 'Frisco, just tell me when to go (Voila)

Memorial Day in M.I.A

I made it Hurricane Chris, ay bay-bay

Coca baby, you know the streets we run this

You **** wanna talk crazy, 'til they catch at least a hundred

The internet say the beef gone digital

Now I'm in the Bronx like in the block with the criminals

Pack in the sock, bet the MAC make 'em miserable

You **** piss sittin' down like my sister do

Bronx legend like Boy George and Chicken Boo

Them Damus keep hollerin' out that "SooWoo"

Haters, leave 'em front of the bodega

My **** Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn't take us

I'm ready for war, we callin' 'em out (Where you at?)

Pulp Fiction, red ball in his mouth

I'm too real, Joe too ill

We run this shit, wonder how Pun feel

I don't know if your money right but a **** like me got paper

I don't know what your money like but a **** like me 'bout paper

I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper

All my **** gettin' paper

We got paper, we got paper

All my hustlers got paper

If it look like a good write-off, I'm chargin' it

The Gucci napsack got a couple large in it

The CD player got El DeBarge in it

Laid back while your girl's massagin' it

I keep my loot saved, sell mad crack

Other than that, stay in the crib and watch bootlegs

Polo robe on, Louis Vuitton cleathers

Thick R&B chick, gettin' my Hov on

Soon as we unwrap 'em, cut and the stove on

Cook 'em, cut 'em and bag 'em, then I'm gettin' my Os on

I don't pay attention to the internet bloggers

I really get it in with the murderers and robbers

This is what a goon'll do

Treat your gravesite like a urinal and YouTube your funeral

It's just Jada, and I might see you in hell much later

But right now, I'ma touch paper

Baby, I touch paper, so much paper

We could split it down the middle like Dutch paper

And for real, I don't even call it paper

I got money out the ass, so it's toilet paper

Shorty good money in the back area

Curve on her hip make me wanna Blackberry her

And everybody talkin' duffel bag shit

Only paper in it's probably what they stuff the bag with

My swag fit like it's tailor-made, yo

New York love me, I got a tailor-made flow

Oh nah, I ain't who to go hard with

My young boy'll do the job like the Omar hit, shit

I don't know if your money right but a **** like me got paper

I don't know what your money like but a **** like me 'bout paper

I'm 'bout paper, I'm 'bout paper

All my **** gettin' paper

We got paper, we got paper

All my hustlers got paper

I'm paper touchin', hustlin', servin' every day

You could either flip birds or flip burgers every day

You could work at Mickey D's if you ain't workin' with the keys

I'm a person that'll squeeze if I ain't workin' with the cheese

Air **** out, but when you tear **** out of the frame

They say your name and start workin' with the D's

Now certain **** reckless

But the same dude that try murk you for

Your necklace be workin' with detectives

They rats, but they know that snitches get ditches

That's why you see vest-es on certain ****' chests-es

I guess if you from Killadelphia Pistolvania

You gotta be a pistol banger

I'm the boss type, off-white crystal slinger

Keep a full clip and one in the pistol chamber

So if you cross the hustler or my man Red Cafe

You probably gon' be dead that day

Written by: Jermaine Denny

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