Lyrics Papoose – Back On My Bullshit (Remix)
Text:
Rick Ross:
Any nigga, any nigga been throwin’ shade or hatin’ in the last 3 years, fuck ’em
Yeah, we shittin’ on you right now
We ain’t givin’ no passes, yeah, you pussy
Niggas still got the same car from my Trilla album, what?
Papoose:
This summer, I’m only ridin’ in convertibles, son
I’m signed to MMG, money, murder and guns
Rick Ross was official, I knew him a long time
‘Cause he took off his shades just so he can look in my eye
Back with the remix, heard you back in the precinct
Quit yappin’, you ain’t packin’ a mean grip
Automatic with 3 clips
You rap with no reason
Stacked with some mean chips
I spent a rack on a clean whip
Backin’ it back with a key flip
?
back and
?
man, don’t have to believe it
Married the queen chick
She be keepin’ her king lit
I be likin’ her cleavage
Clappin’ up leaches
When they ratchet, I leak it
?
That’s when I’m reachin’
You paraplegic
Automatic, Master P but you get defeated with the mafia like the 3 6
The kingpin have an actual reason to stop you maggots from breathin’
No casa fire, how it’s pacifier, fire arms, fire chromes when you rappers exceeded
Trappin’ and eatin’, got ’em back on the defence, I be havin’ ’em speechless
Fire flashin’, got ’em
?, feelin’ shots but I gotta see it
Jaquae:
This time I ain’t playing fair
I’ma take what’s mine
I want more money, more part, goddamn
Nigga, it’s about that time
I’m back on my bullshit
I’m back on my bullshit
I said I’m back on my bullshit
I’m back on my bullshit, hey
Rick Ross:
Met Pap in ’96, fresh off the bus
Residue in my raps from holdin’ dust
I didn’t wanna in case I made her touch her toes
We touchin’ money but really, who touch the most?
We on the corner with my slugs poppin’ wheelies
We never run ’cause we know who run the city
She on the train just to let us run the train
Who do the body, I’ma give that boy a chain
Hustler, I got it tatted on my neck
20 deal Presidents tatted across my chest
?
now they say that boy the best
Tell us what you know ’cause you don’t get no respect
I pass it to Papoose out on a fast break
Her pussy can never be better than what’s in my ashtray
Bang, biggest
Her pussy can never be better than what’s in my ashtray
Jaquae:
This time I ain’t playing fair
I’ma take what’s mine
I want more money, more part, goddamn
Nigga, it’s about that time
I’m back on my bullshit
I’m back on my bullshit
I said I’m back on my bullshit
I’m back on my bullshit, hey
Rick Ross:
Ayo, Pap, remember when we met at the 5 villains photoshoot?
Like yo, ain’t no 5 Philly villains, nigga
We the future of the rap game
Future of the culture
We the biggest
We shook hands then, homie
See it in my eyes then, nigga, let’s go