Lyrics Paper Cuts - Bankroll Freddie

Paper cut
Getting that paper cut
(Play that shit, for me)
Yeah
(Ayy, Heavy, turn that beat up, dawg) Bankroll

All that pocket watching, niggas never gon' amount to shit (nah)
Fuck my bitch up off a Perc', she say she loving daddy dick (she love me)
We can't go inside the club unless we got in with them sticks (hell nah)
I ain't check my stash spot in six months, shit, make that another six (wait, again)
F.O.D., my niggas gang, but you know I've been filthy rich
Well respected and protect, I got mob ties in this bitch (for real)
Thinking 'bout snatching chains, we snatching brains, you dying in this bitch
John Wick with that stick, even my opps say that I shoot too quick
Hold up, I just thought of something (huh? What?)
Why all my opps be cliquing up? (Why?)
Even when y'all 50 deep, y'all niggas still be broke as fuck (broke, broke-ass niggas)
Thumbing through these bands all by myself, I'm getting paper cuts (I'm thumbing through it)
Heard you staying with your mama, need to get your paper up

Running through these bands, did it by hand, I got a paper cut (woo)
Heard your nigga broke but wanna beef, boy, get your paper up (ayy, get your money)
Shorty seen my chain and asked my name, lil' bitch, you know what's up
I got racks on racks, so many bands I'm getting paper cuts (racks, racks, racks)
When you seen them blue whips out in traffic (bitch, you know that's us), bitch, you know that's us
At least a hundred shots up in each whip (don't play with us), ayy, boy don't play with us
F&N and 223's (K with us), you know we keep them K's with us
Got so many bands, need three or four hands (paper cuts), keep getting paper cuts

Shit, another paper cut, I think I need a Band-Aid (shit)
I've been getting Jacksons, baby, like my name was Rampage (ayy, Rampage Jackson)
My bitch never talk back, bitch, you better do what I say (shut the fuck up)
It's only going to go one way, it's my way or the highway (bye)
Paper cut, I'm papered up (papered up)
I'll never pay to fuck (nah)
Say bitch, this a million dollar dick, you gotta pay to fuck (a million fucking dollar dick)
I need to tell my haters something (haters)
Hating ain't gone get you nothing
Come and work it for a boss, you'll probably get some paper cuts

Running through these bands, did it by hand, I got a paper cut (woo)
Heard your nigga broke but wanna beef, boy, get your paper up (ayy, get your money)
Shorty seen my chain and asked my name, lil' bitch, you know what's up
I got racks on racks, so many bands I'm getting paper cuts (racks, racks, racks)
When you seen them blue whips out in traffic (bitch, you know that's us), bitch, you know that's us
At least a hundred shots up in each whip (don't play with us), ayy, boy don't play with us
F&N and 223's (K with us), you know we keep them K's with us
Got so many bands, need three or four hands (paper cuts), keep getting paper cuts