This is a song about "How i get paper"

Talking caramel with them asses like the strippers

How does it feel getting beat by paper and scissors?

How did i get trapped within, confined

I got a line downstairs ma, i'm in the grind

I could give a fuck as long as there’s something that’s behind of her

His wrath will directly get intact, he's ready with a pen and paper,

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

I was sitting on the couch reading yellow paper

Holla at ya boy young roy’s in the kill shit

How about i just get right to it

My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings

Teaching you how i work, let's get back to the basics/

But no matter how depressed i get

If you ain’t got ‘em, then bob your head