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Paper Route Ocean 1 by Official

SongGPT
Paper Route Ocean 1 by Official - Hip-Hop music cover art

Paper Route Ocean 1

Hip-Hop

0:003:18
Lyrics
Description
Yeah! Uh-huh! It's Paper Route Ocean! Treelite! ! Let's get it!
(Ad-libs: SKRRT! BLEH! PREACH! Ayy! WOO! Uh-huh! HA!)
(Verse 1 - Dolph-esque flow, slow, deliberate, heavy)
Yo, pull up to the scene, all white, lookin' pristine (PREACH!)
Big body Benz, presidential, feelin' serene.
They talkin' 'bout bread, I'm talkin' 'bout bakeries, son (HA!)
I ain't countin' small change, I'm stackin' them funds.
Used to trap out the bando, smellin' like loud and grit (BLEH!)
Now it's high-rise penthouse, panoramic, I sit.
Pour a deuce of that purple, lean back, watchin' the news (WOO!)
They mad 'cause I'm eatin', they singin' them broke boy blues.
Got a million dollar smile, and a hundred grand chain (Ayy!)
Still walk with that pistol, for anybody playin' games.
You see the drip, you see the ice, you see the custom fit (Uh-huh!)
This ain't no regular life, this that Dolph lifestyle, b*tch!
From the mud to the mansion, I made it look easy, right? (SKRRT!)
But they don't see the late nights, the grind, the struggle, the fight.
Stayed solid, stayed true, never switched on the clique (PREACH!)
Got rich off these streets, now I'm shittin' on every prick.
Yeah, they tried to count me out, they tried to bury me deep (HA!)
But the real ones kept lovin', the fake ones just wept.
Ain't no half-steppin' over here, we full throttle, man (WOO!)
Paper Route Ocean, we takin' over the land.
(Ad-libs: GRRR! ON GOD! BLESSED! HUUH! RUN IT UP!)
(Verse 2 - Key Glock-esque flow, faster, more aggressive, staccato)
Glock! Ayy! Straight out the trap, no chaser, just facts (GRRR!)
These niggas talkin' loud, but they pockets on flat.
I'm in a foreign whip, doin' ninety on the dash (SKRRT!)
Got a brick in the trunk, and a forty in the stash.
They see the young CEO, they don't know the pain I seen (ON GOD!)
Used to wear the same clothes, now my closet's a dream.
Fresh off the jet, hit the studio, lay down a track (HUUH!)
Another quarter mil' in, ain't no lookin' back.
My neck on freeze, my wrist on blizzard, my diamonds hit hard (BLESSED!)
Every verse a street sermon, every bar a charge.
Used to flip them packs, now I'm flippin' them charts (RUN IT UP!)
They say I changed, nah, I just played a different part.
Still the same young nigga, just upgraded the grind (Ayy!)
Got my own lane, left them broke boys behind.
Money on my mind, twenty-four seven, no sleep (GRRR!)
While they dreamin' of stacks,...
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