Styles P - Green Piece Of Paper lyrics

[Intro: Styles P] It's a lot of pain (a lot of pain) You learn to live with it though (know'msayin) Things we do [Styles P:] Hungry, starvin in beast mode Live by the street code, where n***az take your sh** like the repo The boys'll sell crack, to your mother if you're good (damn) So-called brother in the hood (brother) Lord help us (Lord help) you gotta know we possessed (y'know) I guess it's the stress that make us a hot mess It's somethin on the chest cause none of my n***az rest (none of them) Graveyard shift; my guns with the laser spit 'Til you're hit, all the tissue come off (off) Nobody go to church but they hustle to get across Who am I to argue or fight or bicker (who am I) When, I could see my demon in the cup of the liquor Reflection, my section, sh**'s gettin thicker (sh**'s thick) Cause love don't mix with the liquor - you should know that Gun, knife or bat I'm yellin out hold that Twenty, fifties or hundreds, you know I'm tryin to fold that [Chorus x2: Styles P] I live my whole life for a green piece of paper (five) Did some trife sh**, for a green piece of paper (ten) Did some hype sh**, for a green piece of paper (twenty) A green piece of paper (fifty) a green piece of paper (a hundred) [Styles P:] In the game for mad years, paid a whole lot of dues in it Never bite the hand that feeds you (never) but the rules is different When the hand that feeds you ain't got food in it (what do you do then?) Room full of scholars, bet you it's a fool in it (I bet you!) Yeah, I learn my wisdom from the wise (whattup) But then I learned livin from the lies (salute) Both drop the same j**el boy, better get it it's your time (no it ain't) But nope I say it's God time I'm just a maker of hard rhymes, due to the hard times Skin's real thick, you could look at the scar lines Sometimes in my mind, I be still on the yard time Hittin the bar time; crunches to the push-ups to the dips (yeah) But real n***az push up with the clips (that's what it is) My n***az is raw, you heard right, no cook up in this b**h (no cook up) Let it go you better duck, don't look up in this b**h (don't look up) We came to body somethin, we ain't shook up in this b**h (we ain't shook) [Chorus] [Styles P:] I did some trife sh**, and hype sh** (yeah) On the grind every night that's why I don't write sh** (why I don't write) Used to go hand-to-hand, rob n***az man-to-man Hoppin out the hoopty or the van cause I ain't have a plan (I ain't have a Plan) Now I did a lot of sh**, for a green piece of paper (a lot of sh**) I formed my teams, I was on the scene thinkin major Before a e-mail I served fiends off the pager Gettin high, dreamin 'bout a green piece of paper [Chorus]