Tekster:
The Paper Chase

'all motherfuckers know how it's goin' down Gotta get that paper y'all That's right, uhh Uh huh uh, yeah, Roc-a-Fella, yeah Paper chase y'all, paper chase

Who do you think you are? Who do you think you are - to shove away the hand so fast? Who do you think you are? Well, maybe I'm the devil, to harbor the

I laid my black heart on the table It may just make itself at home My tender jewel my precious pearl My ruby red my diamond girl I'll see you head up

I wish to use my body as a torch I wish to use my body as a guide To stream across your transatlantic sky On a firecracker fourth of July I'm raised on

So this is Xmas And what have you done Another year over And a new one just begun And so this is Xmas I hope you have fun The near and the dear one The

I tried so hard to be good. I really did; to keep my comments inaudible, to smooth the curl of distain from my lips and nostrils. I can't really help

Henry, tell your wife everything Henry, put the bible under your hand/head Henry, bite your lip if she says Do you love me? Do you love me? Henry, what

My death is like a swinging door, a patient girl who knows the score Oh, whistle for her and the passing time My death is like a [incomprehensible] truth

Are you planning your escape? Are you crumbling for the evening When I'm asleep and you're awake? I swear to god I'd take it to the grave But are you