Teksty: Dom Pachino. Power Rulez. Paper.

[Intro: Dom Pachino]
Yeah... where my muthafucking pad at?
Here it go, flatten these fucking dudes
Yeah, yo
Paper, paper, paper, paper, yeah
Paper, paper, paper, paper, what
Paper, paper, paper, paper, yeah
Paper, paper, yo

[Chorus x2: Dom Pachino]
Paper, paper, paper, paper, read about it
I tell niggas stop being pussy, and be a G about it

[Dom Pachino:]
I finesse this flow, don't test this blow
I'm professional, leave you vegetable
Like to talk alot of shit, look at testicle
Have 'em wet like a messy hoe, that I fucked out in Mexico
Don't make me say it again, you are not my friend
If we can't break bread and them ends don't meet
I will scrape your face on a concrete street
We don't hardly speak, you look strong, but you oddly weak
Doorag and fitted, but you hardly street
Should of woke ya ass up, but you had to sleep
So a nigga just had to creep, little weasel
You ain't cock diesel, I cock and squeeze through
Your drop and bleed through, your hoes are see through
My flow's unbelievable just ask the people
Who's raps are lethal, who's tracks'll eat you
P, it been 11 years and they still can't see you
But of course they hear you, and of course they feel you
Cause you a real dude
You got the skills to pay bills and you eat some real food
They waiting to eat, man
They food is mildew, sergeant should of drilled you
Don't hate on real dudes, cause, they will kill you

[Chorus x4]

[Dom Pachino:]
Yo, I weight a buck fifty something, and represent
A tough city that ain't fronting, nigga, stop talkin' bout it & make something
Out of a great nothing pretty, this as gritty as it get
Bags under my eyes cause my city never slept
Yeah, just about as shitty as it get
Make the best out of nothing is the prettiest success
Never had much, but I had my respect
Wasn't dealt every card, but I had a deck
I can change the current state of hip hop, if I had a sec
If it wasn't all about a check, but it is, so I gotta put the
Chkk-chkk, hammer to your neck
Just to get some mere play, who dare say, it ain't real
You ain't boppin', this ain't something you can feel
Maybe more so if I greased you with a mil', but
I'd rather grease you with a kill
For, not keeping it real, you fucking faggots

[Chorus x4]

[Outro: Dom Pachino]
Yeah, yeah, everybody out for that paper, man
I'm out for that paper, man, I'm not gon' lie
Knowhatimsaying, I write my thoughts down on the paper
To make paper, everything have to do with the paper
I sign contracts, I sign the paper, knowhatimsaying
I go to the bank, deposit some money, I sign the paper
I sign them muthafuckin check, I sign the paper
It seem like, man, the corporate world is all about the paper
You wanna survive, muthafucking United States
Pretty much anywhere the world, man, you gotta play with the paper
Paper, paper, the paper, paper, paper, paper, paper, paper, paper, paper