B.o.B — Paper Route
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Текст B.o.B — Paper Route
You don’t know who you’re fucking with
Ain’t no Democrat, and by far I’m no Republican
This is the type of talk that’ll probably piss off my publicist
And I ain’t even started, the water ain’t even bubbling
The type of talk that’ll probably get me in trouble with the law
Or make the government come after me in public
Won’t hear this on the radio, this here is not for publishing
This ain’t that bubble gum shit, no, this ain’t that Double Mint
Consider this a risk, I swear I see them building pyramids brick by brick
They’ll aim at anyone bold enough to go against the shit
You don’t believe me? Look what happened to the Dixie Chicks
It’s like nobody else complains
Until you try to be more than a nigga with a chain
Cube already told you: «they corrupted everything»
And we’re just out here trying to function, trying to maintain
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray my prayers make it through the clouds
I pray in heaven that them fuck niggas ain’t allowed
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray, I pray my prayers make it through the cloud
Until then it’s back to the paper route, the paper route
And of course, it’s unfortunate that niggas out here robbing for Jordans
Can we not afford them, but got enough to get a Glock 40
Is our views on reality kinda distorted
But still, even though I understand the story
I still fall weak for a booty that’s proportionate
On the sexy short bitch, so what’s the score?
Chilling with some Red dogs, drinking White man’s poison
Now that’s a forfeit
Selling what’s for free, that’s extortion
But still I’m wondering what families were present when history was recorded
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray my prayers make it through the clouds
I pray in heaven that them fuck niggas ain’t allowed
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray, I pray my prayers make it through the cloud
Until then it’s back to the paper route, the paper route
You think you really know what’s going on?
They’re passing laws where they can run up in your own home
Cameras on your laptop, TV and your iPhone
The battery don’t come out, that means it’s always on
Smile and say cheese, yeah niggas, gotcha!
I told you fuckers three years ago about The Watchers
If you don’t take the microchip, then you can’t make no dollars
This ain’t no lovely day for a neighbour, this ain’t no Mr Rodgers
Don’t let them fuckers rob us for our freedom and our rights
And you be like: «it’s on the news so it must be right»
Who’s pulling the strings? Who’s rolling the dice?
Who’s calling the shots and who’s starting the fight?
Think twice…
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray my prayers make it through the clouds
I pray in heaven that them fuck niggas ain’t allowed
A hundred miles an hour, running when I hit the ground
Thoughts moving through my head at the speed of sound
I pray, I pray my prayers make it through the cloud
Until then it’s back to the paper route, the paper route
