JOEY FATTS


Paradise Lyrics (feat. A$ton Matthews & Waka Flocka Flame)

[Verse 1: Joey Fatts]
Two niggas can't fit no casket, so I'ma ask this
How can you act like I'm some self-centered bastard? I need a meal momma
I need a mill, and that shit don't fit on a platter so I need a deal Or I'ma rob and kill for the bread, leave a nigga's brains plastered
Like none of that shit matter
I gotta get this money right, I gotta get this cake up
I'm tryna cop these brand new Nikes, I'm tryna get my hair cut
f*ck nigga be aware of us, the bitch nigga predators
Treat a nigga like a ho, backhand like Roger Federer
Smokin' dope in the '87 Regal, niggas out trappin' like it's legal
Plottin' on C notes
So many shots I'm callin', keys lookin' like piles of pollen
And nigga took a loss now, back to ballin'
A nigga been chillin' with Spalding often
I bet my Ex wish she'd have answered my calls then
Cause now we can f*ck and we ain't even together
Say suck my dick and hoes think that's clever
Cause a nigga the man and bitches see this cheddar
She says (?) better, I say you can't do better
Cause you let me f*ck the first time that I met her
On the road to the gold, I'mma do it nigga
Don't flush that toilet, I got shit to prove nigga

[Hook: Joey Fatts]
I've been strugglin' all my life, I've been hustlin' all my life
Momma scufflin' all my life, nigga welcome to paradise
I've been strugglin' all my life, I've been hustlin' all my life
Momma scufflin' all my life, nigga welcome to paradise
But I love this shit, but I love this shit
If it wasn't for this I wouldn't be shit, boy nigga love this shit
Boy I love this shit, late night drummin' shit
If it wasn't for this I wouldn't be shit, boy nigga love this shit
[Verse 2: A$ton Matthews]
Bullets rang out
Mommie, daddy, and my cousins all livin' in the same house
They ain't tryna make a killin', they just tryna make a livin'
Why I see them one day in prison, uh
Fears of the (?) of being deported
Pray for our dinner (?), straight out of the gutter we started
(?) drill zone
Little less (?) meal with the kill phone
Real niggas in the field fair, catching bodies in some big wheels
(?) make me feel lil
Homicide through the windshield
Lil blood on the pavement ain't a big deal
(?) and the Devil's watchin'
Momma bitchin' but the bricks flockin'
My pocket's hurtin' but there's (?) knots in it
So I'mma sell these O's until they give my ass a better option
On the block with the same killers, drop a opp with the same killers
(?) pop with the same killers, mix the 8 with the pain killers
They got the feelin's cause they can't kill us
In the middle of pots pissed and shots missed
Caught one but I dropped six
Three figures down, (?) tied with the lock-wrist
Cut throat gang, not a nigga breathing gonna stop this

[Hook: Joey Fatts]
[Verse 3: Waka Flocka Flame]
What would I be without this Mary Jane?
Well, without this Mary Jane
Diamonds all in this damn rain
Just bought this brand new chain
Who told ya'll money don't grow on trees?
Well I made a livin' off sellin' peas
On the interstate, tryna get the cake
Everyday I'm chasin' these felonies
I've been strugglin' all my life just to live in paradise
Took a gamble like a pair of dice, get it? pair of dice
Couldn't find a job so I hustled hard for these pair of Nikes
Made some bad decisions, never had no one (?) share advice
Came a long way from the nigga gettin' fronted to the nigga fronting all the work in the streets
Tired of being broke, nothin' worser than me
Used to cop from a man now he workin' for me
I used to sleep on the floors, now my house got nine rooms in it
I've been hustlin' all my life, now the competition can't beat my ticket

[Hook: Joey Fatts]

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these lyrics are submitted by gsba3
Songwriter(s): Aton Matthews, Waka Flocka Flame, Joey Fatts
Record Label(s): 2016 Cutthroat Records
Official lyrics by

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