Major Papers - Kokane

Well alright

Ha, ha

Well alright

All across the U.S.C

Compton monster west

Pomona I. E

Vallejo, what ya say

Sacramento, Fresco, they know

I walked through the shadow of satans

Straight out perpertrators

Well alright

Like federated

But often hated

I used to serve them fiends

Before I became a teen

I met the ghetto streets

And I was cold as ice cream

Ghetto orientated so when street music originated

Built like pieces of puzzles complicated

I’m like Fred G. Sanford

This is a big one honey

I’m coming to join ya with some birds and money

That I just jacked from this fool

I see the snitch in his eye

Call me mister Candid Camera

Give a hater suprise

I know some homies big and back being boo

Some G’s kick, kack a shake groove

Don’t make me act a fool

I’m just a pimped ass fool smoking mega sacks

And we go back like dwarf hats and croaker sacks

What’s a studio player that’s really soft

It’s like the Dayton Wire without the eagle knockoffs

It’s like mixing Pop Rocks and 7 Up;

it don’t mix

Can I give these janky-ass fools a quick fix

I’m about

Making major papers

You’s about

Being a major hater

You busters can’t see me though

Game is air tight

It’s the world’s guinness book of haters

Lets dip under P, for perpertrators

Fool be colder than a roof on 95 hundred

I’ll jack your D’s and your girl if I want it

It’s the world’s guinness book of pages

Let’s flick under F, for straight out fakers

Cojones be colder than a roof on 95 hundred

I’ll jack yo D’s and your sack if I want it

It’s like radio

Sometimes they never play me

Until I went underground

Like Master P

Real O.G.s strictly for the homies in the game

No pain no gain

Just hoping that, Mr. Kane

Penetentiary chances

Ghetto advancements

I click my romeo’s three times

But I know I’m not in Kansas

I’m a jack of all trades

Master of 1

And the thing that I mastered

Is making everybody sprung

Many stanky ass record labels

Can eat a fat dizz-nick

Got some white college fool

Criticing my tune

Boy ain’t never been down to the ghetto

Where fools slang yayo out of broken down apartments

All of a sudden he’s head of the rap department

I slang my tapes out the trunk of my Impala

Well alright

Sell 50 000 units make a half a million Dollars

Fool be in my mix like paparazzo

Just because I went from rags to Tini 'n Asti Spumante

So forgive me if I diss your played out crew

Ya shouldn’t hate the next player getting theirs

When you can get yours too

I’m not never find the moment

Waiting for the next player to pay my bills

If I can’t get my respect I’mma kill at will

And that’s real, that’s real, that’s real

Went from rags to skyscrapers

Major papers equals major haters

Hmm, yeah

What Eazy say

The more problems you make, the more problems you get

I’m about

Making major paper

Use about

Being a major hater

You busters can’t see me though

Game is air tight

It’s the world’s guinness book of haters

Let’s dip under P, for perpertrators

Fool be colder than a roof on 95 hundred

I’ll jack yo Z’s and your girl if I want it

It’s the world’s guinness book of haters

Let’s flick under F, for straight out fakers

Fool be colder than a roof on 95 hundred

I’ll jack yo sack and your D’s if I want it

Ya understand that

We act like a payphone?

in here

From the land of sunshine and palm trees

Airbreak to shoe

And you don’t wanna fuck with me

You don’t wanna fuck with me

I must give it up for DJ Silk

Funky tie?

up for me

Airbreak to shoe

Woo, woo

Them gangster hits

We got what it takes, yeah