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lirik lagu emmett till – paperroute woo

[intro]
(twizz, you k!lled it)
big gd
(we got daymon in this b*tch)
big woo, n*gga
f*ck n*gga
they like, “what you doin’?” trappin’ (b*tch, what i’m doin’? what i be doin’)
sh*t, i’m just puttin’ up the profit (breakin’ bread, bread, bread)
i just wanna count the profit (b*tch, i just wanna—)
what you doin’? (b*tch) i don’t even—, uh (i don’t even—)

[verse 1]
i just came to new york just to chill (yeah), n*gga, pop it (pop it)
eat a lot of sh*t i don’t eat at home and do some shoppin’ (some shoppin’)
stopped at juniors just to eat some cheesecake, i’m too c*cky (too c*cky)
all the time square, smokin’ dope, strapped with that rocket (that rocket)
you stuntin’ with yo’ brother money (yeah), you ain’t get no profit (no profit)
all in cali’, lookin’ for the plug (yeah), n*gga, f*ck these sockets (these sockets)
you just rappin’ ’bout this sh*t, lil’ n*gga (yeah), you ain’t caught got no bodies (no bodies)
you ain’t go up on that drill (uh*uh), n*gga, you ain’t shoot your glocky (no glocky)

[chorus]
boy just rappin’, he don’t drill (don’t drill)
boy, quit rappin’ ’bout that k!ll (that k!ll)
i been preachin’ to the streets (yeah), makin’ n*ggas chase a mill’ (chase a bankroll)
i can’t never leave the house without my strap (uh*uh), that’s how i live (i live)
i get money and i’m black (yeah), i’m puttin’ on for emmett till (for emmet till)
[verse 2]
got a b*tch just wear some tennis shoes (some tennis shoes), she don’t like the heels (no heels)
i’m so p, i make a white b*tch (yeah) go and pick the cotton field (the cotton field)
i’m from memphis, boy, i’m trill (i’m trill)
used to tote my gun on beale (on beale)
real street n*gga (yeah), took my 26, went up in liv (in liv)
on the east coast and the west coast (yeah), n*gga, tryna strike a deal (let’s go)
never really on no rappin’ sh*t (uh), you know what it is (dope boy)
caught a jet to miami just to shoot a video (uh), what a film (a film)
i was raised up in the projects (yeah), n*gga, really up out that field (that field)

[verse 3]
i can’t even move wrong (move wrong)
all jewelry buss down (yeah) and my cartier is two*toned (it’s two*toned)
talkin’ ’bout don’t wear this sh*t in cali’ (yeah), b*tch, my jewels on (b*tch, my jewels on)
n*ggas actin’ sloppy, n*ggas dyin’ ’cause they move wrong (they move wrong)
take your baby mama to the room, see what her mood on (see what she talkin’ ’bout, n*gga)
it was just a quickie, man, i hit her with my shoes on (with my shoes on)
how you miss your target with a switch? (yeah) you be shootin’ wrong (you be shootin’ wrong)
all in nyc, gettin’ st*rdy, gettin’ my groove on (st*rdy, gettin’ my groove on, uh)
[chorus]
boy just rappin’, he don’t drill (don’t drill)
boy, quit rappin’ ’bout that k!ll (that k!ll)
i been preachin’ to the streets (yeah), makin’ n*ggas chase a mill’ (chase a bankroll)
i can’t never leave the house without my strap (uh*uh), that’s how i live (i live)
i get money and i’m black (yeah), i’m puttin’ on for emmett till (for emmet till)
boy just rappin’, he don’t drill (don’t drill)
boy, quit rappin’ ’bout that k!ll (that k!ll)
i been preachin’ to the streets (yeah), makin’ n*ggas chase a mill’ (chase a bankroll)
i can’t never leave the house without my strap (uh*uh), that’s how i live (i live)
i get money and i’m black (yeah), i’m puttin’ on for emmett till (for emmet till)

- paperroute woo

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