This is a song about "Paper money"

And if my mother answer, i'll ask her

I'm gettin paper, yeah i get paper.

Stupid bitch your wrinkling like rolling paper,

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

And i'm tryin to use the phone, but they makin noiseman i wish i had my glock, cause it's major

The money i'd make , convay myself im never fake , pen always firm to the paper

I'm gettin paper, yeah i get paper.

I don't know.. what you're lookin' for

Light this paper and huddle,

I got rich from a little struggle

I wanted a brother my mother i told her

Paper boy make you a believer

Money is the root of evil, they'll die for a piece of paper,

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

Got racks, ain’t talking tits

Belly full of paper bills