Be About Yo' Paper - The Click

I break the back off a cake

Mix some soda with this A-1 D

I ziplock and flip flop, 43

I’m livin' like a kingpin 'cause I had clients

Them bitches love to fuck with us Hillside giants

And I was hittin' me one, no matter the cost

A 4−4-2 with the dual exhaust

With so much rumble in the back of my load

I hit the parking lot and watch convertibles fold

Them zippers was sold, them bitches use to hold my D

And back then an ounce would cost you a G

I stacked 22 and had 21 left

7 to the kill, nigga, thanks to my chef

They was lovin' me to death 'cause I had cream

Them niggas double up so dope fiend never seen

And on my team you, gon' get your green

'Cause a nigga had to have it by all means

Be about yo' paper, mayne

Fetti, scrilla, scratch, mayne

Be about yo' paper, mayne

Fetti, scratch, mayne

My paper, my paper is way too strong

'Cause when it comes to fetti, muthafucka, it’s on

Money, scratch, revenues and all that shit

Stingy nigga in your hood tryin' to strike at rich

I gots the town hecks a sewed up

Thangs for 13−5, no bakin' soda

I’m to heavy the feds can’t fuck with me

My lawyers paid so fuck the D.E.A

Boss ballin droppin sacks through your fuckin hood

You want it hard or soft, It’s to the good

We’re gettin stronger with this distribution drug shit

We’re gettin bigger muthafuckas don’t want to see my Click

I’m in and out, from town to fuckin' town

Collectin' mail, makin' my fuckin' rounds

Northern Cali is the place where a nigga dwells

Nuts hangin', bitch, I’m about my mail

Sittin' on top of a mattress full of dried up pee stains

Choppin up my candy cane

Use your razor blade, nigga, use a safety pin

See, I probably wouldn’t quit if they raided my shit

Soon as I get out I’m rit back in it

Now I got my own car and we’re thick as shit

Oh, you ain’t know? A car’s a click

Employees on the boulevard rough and tough’n

Got my test clean from puff and stuff’n

Came off a hook up on some chops never been fired off

Steal a box with the styrofoam, guaranteed not to cough

Vallejo, V-Town, Valley Joe

No respect for the muthafuckin' po-po

A Yabba Doo, the boys in blue be gettin' shook’n

Sometimes I’m suited up, sometimes I’m bummy lookin'

Slick and sly, whoppin 'em at they own game

Publicity stunts changing my pager number every three months