Raw Papers On Deck

[Intro]
Big smoke in the spot, that’s facts (yeah)
Whole room smellin’ like racks (uh)
You know what the vibes gon’ be
Raw papers, gas on me (skrrt)
[Verse 1]
Bitch, I’m in the trap with the pack, no cap
Whole gang rollin’ up, hundred blunts in the back
Got a brick in the fridge, got a stick in my lap
If a opp slide through, leave his shit in his lap (bah, bah, bah)
I’m a walk-down stepper, black tee, ski mask
Still smell kush when I breeze past
If it ain’t top tier, you can keep that
I’m smokin’ on dank, make the fiends tap
Hit a lick, then I spark with the same hand
Thumb on the scale, other thumb on the flame, damn
I be weighin’ up bows, blowin’ O’s in the Wraith
Got your bitch on my phone, put her nose in the plate
Trap jumpin’ like a gym, I ain’t even hit the rim
Got a shooter in the cut, he don’t ever touch the brim
I’m the landlord, money tall, never late
Raw papers in the drawer, I ain’t rollin’ outta shape, lil’ bitch
[Chorus]
I got Raw papers on deck (on deck)
Only roll gas, not a step (not a step)
Big ass wood? Fuck that
Thin tan sheet for the pack (for the pack, for the pack)
I got Raw papers on deck (on deck)
Smokin’ on bud, that’s wet (real gas)
If you pull up, cut a check
Or get stepped on, left where you at (gang, gang)
[Verse 2]
Got dank in the blunt, got drank in the cup
Got a plug out the way, send a crate, then I double up
Ops online talk tough, they ain’t poppin’ up
Catch him in the street, make a scene, then we box him up (boom)
I was on the block with the rock and the roach
Now the chain two-tone, still hot from the stove (icy)
Still hot from the stove, I ain’t changed in the soul
I just upgraded the smoke, now it’s pressure I roll (pressure)
3.5 stuffed neat in the Raw wrap
One hit have a square on his back flat
Shorty wanna hit, told her, “Back back”
This that cartel pack, not a frat trap
I’m pourin’ up syrup, I’m divin’ in racks
Countin’ these blues with the strap in my lap
Your homie got hit, ain’t slide for the fact
We turn your block to a pack, that’s that (pussy)
[Chorus]
I got Raw papers on deck (on deck)
Only roll gas, not a step (never)
Big ass wood? Fuck that
Thin tan sheet for the pack (for the pack, for the pack)
I got Raw papers on deck (Raw, Raw)
Smokin’ on bud, that’s wet (big smoke)
If you pull up, cut a check
Or get stepped on, left where you at (bitch, gang)
[Bridge]
Roll it up, light it up, then I face one (face one)
High as hell, but a nigga still chase funds (chase funds)
Every puff got me feelin’ like I can’t fall
Every opp just another name in the gray wall (boom, boom)
Roll it up, light it up, then I face one (yeah)
Big smoke make a broke bitch taste some (uh)
If it ain’t Raw, I don’t blaze none
If it ain’t gas, I don’t take none (never, never)
[Chorus]
I got Raw papers on deck (on deck)
Only roll gas, not a step (not a step)
Big ass wood? Fuck that
Thin tan sheet for the pack (for the pack, for the pack)
I got Raw papers on deck (Raw papers)
Smokin’ on bud, that’s wet (gas)
If you pull up, cut a check
Or get stepped on, left where you at (gang, gang, gang)

rap, Dark, head-nodding hybrid of trap 808s, deep house bass swells, and sparse reggae skank guitar. Male vocals riding a swung hip-hop pocket with melodic R&B hooks. Chorus lifts with stacked harmonies and filtered keys; verses stay gritty and close-mic. Occasional dub-style delays on ad-libs and drops, sub rattling the trunk., raw, deep house, hip hop, reggae, r&b