M.I.A., Bun B and Rich Boy - Paper Planes [Diplo Street Remix]

I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get to, I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner, we're making our fame
Bona fide hustler making my name

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get to I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner, we're making our fame
Bona fide hustler making my name

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

Man, I'm rollin' through the city, old school on them big boys
12 inch woofers in the trunk making big noise
Got the big toys (toys), don't make me have to flash
Let a hundred rounds go, you do a hundred yard dash
Back up in the hood where the rules don't shift
And the gangstas talk trills, sip purp and burn piff
You can call 5-0 and 5-0 might come
But by the time that they arrive all the dirt done been done
Now one things for certain, and two things for sure
Being poor is a disease, gotta hustle up a cure
Start with your head homie, then use your hands
If you try it in reverse, you don't even have a chance
We worldwide worried with the hunger and the thirst
From the third world countries to the second and the first
It sounds like a verse but it's more like a plan
Get your Robin Hood on, put some pressure on the man, tell it

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

I wake up in the morning with my bitch in the bed
She don't like the police and she sure hate the feds
I love my girl 'cause she give me what I want
She ride in the trunk or either ride in the front
She looks like 22 but she really 45
Some reason she done made a whole lotta niggas cry
So bad that she make 'em all pull they money out
Take it out they pockets and they put it in my pouch
Ouch, gotta hurt the way that girl do ya
She always wanna what take, take, take the moolah
Gimme them pesos, the cash and the credit card
Might be a broad but the lil' bitch hit ya hard
You the police and we is the robbers
You need more than them helicopters to stop us
Excuse me, let me introduce my lady
Her name is Beretta and she mothafuckin' crazy

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

All I wanna do is
And
And take your money

Written by:
John Mellor, Mathangi Maya Arulpragasam, Michael Jones, Nicholas Headon, Paul Simonon, Thomas Wesley Pentz

Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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