Kenny Muney and Key Glock - Paper Route

Yeah (Aimonmyneck, at it again)
Paper Route business
Long live Flippa (ayo, Shotto, turn that shit up)
Tell them lil' boys that (yeah)

I'm on the route to go get me some paper
Chasin' this paper gon' fuck up my route (uh, uh)
This an empire, no game, but don't play with these letters
I promise I'm takin' your-, shh
Yeah, bitch bad, I'm takin' her out (yeah)
Booty so big, hard to sit in my lap (yeah)
Big pretty titties, let me feel it, ooh, soft as a cloud
Nut on her nose, then I'm back to the trap (I'm gone)
Hell yeah, I'm back on the route (let's go)

I was on go, where you headed to now? (skrrt)
Me and my chopper don't be with no crowd
Bro don't be with me when we on the business
If this 'bout money, I'm bringin' 'em 'round ('round)
Paper Route business, can't sit at this round (table) table (ayy)
Hey, Daddio, break this shit out (ayy, break out)
Man, my niggas go back-to-back, Maybach, don't make me call Glock
All my niggas got cash, no cow (yeah)
We the ones made it in the game with no deal (yeah)
Handsome fuck niggas, they know what we 'bout (yeah)
Way before rap, I had big racks, for real (big racks)
Two hundred P's in the middle of the South
On my grandma, we been had racks, been turnin' everybody down
I wanted money, I won with the cap
They can fool y'all, but I know what they 'bout (yeah)
Yeah, I ain't nothin' like these niggas that rap
Come sell your soul, come and shoot you some craps
We Illuminati, secret society
Come around here, don't be runnin' your mouth (shh, don't do it)
Paper Route business, Whole Lotta Errthang (yeah)
They know they ain't the ones runnin' the town (mob)

Get back gang, turn his smile to a frown (yeah)
I wrap you up like these verses and pounds (pounds)
Thirty rounds on me, I'm standin' my ground (yeah)
Plain Jane, rose gold look like a gram, Glock (yeah)
Smokin' opp pack out the pound (opp pack)
These niggas students, they study my 'Gram (yeah, Glock)
If I press one button, that shit can go down
If I press one button, that shit can go down (yeah)
Like my drop top (skrrt), he got smoked in the car, no hot box
Cuz playin' with squares, no hopscotch
Free bro, he got caught with a hot Glock (yeah)
Glizock in her mouth like a cough drop (Glizock, yeah)
If I ain't gettin' money, I'm gettin' head (yeah)
Pockets fat, think I need Jenny Craig (think I need Jenny Craig, yeah)
If I'm Glock opp, I'd be scared (be scarred, yeah)
Lord knows I had a bitch that bad (yeah)
And I hate niggas that be lyin' about puttin' in work
Made a million dollars 'fore I made a kid (kid)
I married to the money, baby girl, even though I might flirt (ayy)
Give a nigga shots, no gen
I run around this bitch, get my coins like a Subway Surfer (ayy)
These niggas cap more than lids (cap)
Me and Kenny Muney been about this money since birth

Muney (got 'em)
5L (you dig?)

I'm on the route to go get me some paper
Chasin' this paper gon' fuck up my route (uh, uh)
This an empire, no game, but don't play with these letters
I promise I'm takin' your-
Yeah, bitch bad, I'm takin' her out (yeah)
Booty so big, hard to sit in my lap (yeah)
Big pretty titties, let me feel it, ooh, soft as a cloud
Nut on her nose, then I'm back to the trap (I'm gone)
Hell yeah, I'm back on the route (I'm back on the route)

Yeah, Paper Route business, nigga
The only business
Ain't sleepin', cuz, what you say, my nigga? Fuck 'em
Fuck everybody, fuck all them niggas
Long live Flippa
With us or against us
Nah, you against us, you can't get with us, nigga

Written by:
Kenneth Greene, Markeyvius Cathey

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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