Raw Papers by Theo Ferragamo Lyrics
[Intro: Theo Ferragamo]
[Verse 1: Theo Ferragamo]
My big homie told me "Fire up"
If you smoking real gas, put your lighters up, ignite it up in
Boy we lifted again, swear this shit is a sin
But I'm in the heavens, higher than I ever been
Dear God, I can finally talk to you and
I must admit I got a lot to say
Each and every day, I've been tryna find a way out
And God knows that this work is what my game's bout
It's been a drought on this hip-hop shit
Y'all desert ass rappers and mirage ass niggas
I'm just tryna be a legend like your boy J Dilla
Rolling [?] just to ease my mind
Keep a nigga focused that'll ease my grind
It's about time, word to my nigga Tommy
Book us for a show, we gon' kill the after party
And I gave her some Bacardi now she feeling kind of naughty
[Hook (x2): Theo Ferragamo]
I can't stress no hoe
All I'm trynna do is just stretch my dough
Another one end, boy, we rollin up some more
Said, put your lighters up if you really trynna smoke
[Verse 2: Mike G]
I started this at 18, grown and strong
Tryna make this gas and fire get along
With a flow strong enough to blow bombs
Better run for cover, better ring the alarm
Something inside of me that won't stay calm
Don't know right from wrong, just tell me what you want
Try to dress in a suit and pull dimes like James Bond
We don't do the same things, don't drive the same cars
My sub make the seat give a massage
My whip full of life, never stay in my garage
My back hand'll make a bitch do a hand stand
My plan to make a couple grand over the border again
Might need to put a order in
Feel like I'm livin' just to record again
Fall for chicks with green eyes and accents
Curtains closed, it's over for closed captions
[Hook: Theo Ferragamo]
[Verse 3: Theo Ferragamo]
Said I'm really tryna roll this zip
Good weed, no seeds, and backwoods
I'm the illest rapper in it that's factual
Work hard and give 'em the last of you
Yeah I got a master plan just to get massive views
But right now, I'm tryna do what it do
Smoke good, I'm inhaling these fumes
Hotboxing in the booth, they can't take this heat
We just "Bakin" like Jid and my nigga Mike G, boy you know what it is
Put my whole life in it so you know that I'm serious
Hope you feeling these lyrics
And if not, you ain't high enough, I'm up there
I'm so high, you could find me in my God's chair
Fuck air, I need Earth, good leaves of that purp
When I got good weed, swear I never need a nurse
And nah I ain't matchin smokin' til my lungs hurt
[Hook: Theo Ferragamo]
[Outro: Theo Ferragamo]
I can't stress no
Tryna get my dough
I can't stress these hoes
I just gotta get my dough
I can't stress no
All I'm tryna do is just stretch my dough
[?] some more
If you really tryna smoke
[Verse 1: Theo Ferragamo]
My big homie told me "Fire up"
If you smoking real gas, put your lighters up, ignite it up in
Boy we lifted again, swear this shit is a sin
But I'm in the heavens, higher than I ever been
Dear God, I can finally talk to you and
I must admit I got a lot to say
Each and every day, I've been tryna find a way out
And God knows that this work is what my game's bout
It's been a drought on this hip-hop shit
Y'all desert ass rappers and mirage ass niggas
I'm just tryna be a legend like your boy J Dilla
Rolling [?] just to ease my mind
Keep a nigga focused that'll ease my grind
It's about time, word to my nigga Tommy
Book us for a show, we gon' kill the after party
And I gave her some Bacardi now she feeling kind of naughty
[Hook (x2): Theo Ferragamo]
I can't stress no hoe
All I'm trynna do is just stretch my dough
Another one end, boy, we rollin up some more
Said, put your lighters up if you really trynna smoke
[Verse 2: Mike G]
I started this at 18, grown and strong
Tryna make this gas and fire get along
With a flow strong enough to blow bombs
Better run for cover, better ring the alarm
Something inside of me that won't stay calm
Don't know right from wrong, just tell me what you want
Try to dress in a suit and pull dimes like James Bond
We don't do the same things, don't drive the same cars
My sub make the seat give a massage
My whip full of life, never stay in my garage
My back hand'll make a bitch do a hand stand
My plan to make a couple grand over the border again
Might need to put a order in
Feel like I'm livin' just to record again
Fall for chicks with green eyes and accents
Curtains closed, it's over for closed captions
[Hook: Theo Ferragamo]
[Verse 3: Theo Ferragamo]
Said I'm really tryna roll this zip
Good weed, no seeds, and backwoods
I'm the illest rapper in it that's factual
Work hard and give 'em the last of you
Yeah I got a master plan just to get massive views
But right now, I'm tryna do what it do
Smoke good, I'm inhaling these fumes
Hotboxing in the booth, they can't take this heat
We just "Bakin" like Jid and my nigga Mike G, boy you know what it is
Put my whole life in it so you know that I'm serious
Hope you feeling these lyrics
And if not, you ain't high enough, I'm up there
I'm so high, you could find me in my God's chair
Fuck air, I need Earth, good leaves of that purp
When I got good weed, swear I never need a nurse
And nah I ain't matchin smokin' til my lungs hurt
[Hook: Theo Ferragamo]
[Outro: Theo Ferragamo]
I can't stress no
Tryna get my dough
I can't stress these hoes
I just gotta get my dough
I can't stress no
All I'm tryna do is just stretch my dough
[?] some more
If you really tryna smoke