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lirik lagu south memphis rugrats (remix) – paper route empire, young dolph & snupe bandz

[intro: young dolph]
i say what i mean, i mean what i say
b*tch

[verse 1: young dolph]
gone in sixty seconds, never let a b*tch stress me (uh*uh)
before the microphone, i made a milli’ off the celly (yeah)
i love to see her walk away because it look like jelly (shake)
went from zero to sixty in two seconds on pirellis
i’m always at the jewelry store, i got a diamond fetish (ice)
smokin’ on this kale while i’m countin’ up this lettuce (yeah)
stack it to the sky, i believe that i can fly
told the man in the mirror that you one h*ll of a guy
if i can do it, so can you, but sh*t, who the h*ll am i?
who said it’s lonely at the top? ’cause that’s a motherf*ckin’ lie
i brought my homeboys with me, ballin’ in south memphis like dubai
rolls royces back*to*back*to*back*to*back, oh my god
(god, god, god, god, god, god, god, god, god)
i mean that sh*t (god, god, god, god, god, god, god)
hold up, let me finish (wait)
she so fine, i put it in and tried to touch her kidneys
i’m too motherf*ckin’ rich to go and eat at denny’s (what?)
but f*ck that, i’m in a jack pirtle’s drive*thru in a bentley (hey)
front seat got my semi (uh), opps, yeah, i got plenty (for real, though)
playin’ with these m’s, but i started out with pennies (yeah)
a hundo in my skinnies (yeah)
louis xiii, shots of top*shelf remy (yeah)
grew up thuggin’ just like hoover deuce, baby jimmy
b*tch, hey (hey)
[verse 2: snupe bandz]
yeah, i grew up thuggin’, i’m a south memphis rugrat (rugrat)
baguettes drippin’ on my neck, these b*tches love that (drip)
when i pop out, i got big, gigantic, stupid racks (big racks)
f*ck a job, i beat the block, i had to flip a pack (flip it)
self*made n*gga, i’m hustlin’ (hustlin’)
can’t go back to the days when i ain’t have nothin’
but i won’t forget ’bout the struggle (nah)
i was just stackin’ up racks in the trap in my shoebox, now i stuff that sh*t in a duffle (for real)
my plug keep sendin’ them loads and i just keep flushin’ ’em, call him back, i need another one (another one)
ridin’ ’round town with a pocket full of jacksons, i stack up them hundreds and fifties (fifties)
keep me a draco, it got a banana clip, and the ar came with titties
thirty*three shots in my glock, scottie pippen (yeah)
double my cup, so you know what i’m sippin’ (double up)
really havin’ this sh*t, n*gga, no, i ain’t trippin’ (nah)
paper route the mob, n*gga, i’m never flippin’ (yeah, on gang)

[verse 3: paperroute woo]
yeah, i ain’t never flippin’ (flippin’)
only thing that a young n*gga is flippin’ is these motherf*ckin’ packs that i’m gettin’ (yeah, that i’m gettin’)
and i ain’t worried ’bout none of these lil’ broke*ass n*ggas or these b*tches (b*tches)
everything a n*gga do out here in these streets, they just gon’ mimic (yeah, mimic)
seventy*five hundred for a show, lil’ n*gga, i’m booked, ain’t no gimmick (yeah, no gimmick)
all my cars 6.0s, them b*tches v8, yeah, they hemis (hemis)
young n*gga really havin’ motion, i done served the whole d*mn memphis (memphis)
make a play with white, it end up bitter or mac miller (mac miller)
really made a k!llin’, off of vacuum sealin’ (sealin’)
never been in love ’cause i can’t really catch no feelings (no feelings)
never had no nine*to*five ’cause i love drug dealin’ (drug dealin’)
been up in that field, lil’ n*gga, go and ask lil’ w*lly (lil’ w*lly)
beat the block up ’til the dope all gone (yeah, yeah)
trappin’ real, real hard off of two phones (yeah, both of ’em)

- paper route empire young dolph snupe bandz

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