Lyrics
[Intro]
Big smoke
Big racks
Big body
Big facts (yeah)
[Chorus]
Raw papers
Only roll up gas
Thick cloud
Can’t see past the dash
Bad gyal
On me, throwin’ ass
Whole clip
Tucked right by the stash (brrt)
Raw papers
Only roll up strong
If it ain’t top shelf
Then you rolled it wrong
Bandz up
Money talk so long
Whole life
Feel like one trap song (yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1]
Split a pack of Raws
Like I split these checks
Shorty got a waist
That’ll break your neck
She don’t want love
Just a place to flex
Tats on her thighs
My hands on her chest (uh)
Gas so loud
Neighbors call the cops
Sight so red
Lookin’ like the opps
Beam on his head
Dot, dot, dot
Heard he talk slick
Now he talk to God (pow)
Countin’ blue strips
’Til my thumbs go numb
She gon’ bend it over
When she see that sum
Raw to the face
I don’t pass my blunt
Whole room spin
But I still don’t stumble (nah)
[Chorus]
Raw papers
Only roll up gas
Thick cloud
Can’t see past the dash
Bad gyal
On me, throwin’ ass
Whole clip
Tucked right by the stash (grrt)
Raw papers
Only roll up strong
If it ain’t top shelf
Then you rolled it wrong
Bandz up
Money talk so long
Whole life
Feel like one trap song
[Verse 2]
Hundred on the dash
Hundred round drum
Hundred bad bitches
And they all want some
She like, “Boy, you toxic”
“Yeah, I’m dumb”
But she still slide through
When the late night come (come here)
Smoke in my dreads
Smoke on my teeth
Smoke in the ride
When I slide on the street
Plug send packs
Like a Uber receipt
And I break bread
With the whole damn team (gang)
Titties in my hands
While I count this guap
She roll my Raw
While I load this Glock
Henny in her veins
She don’t ever stop
She go down low
’Til her jaw just lock (goddamn)
If it ain’t about money
Don’t hit my phone
If it ain’t bout gas
Don’t hit my cone
Try to play tough
Get your mind blown
Then I fade back
In a cloud, I’m gone (skrrt)
[Chorus]
Raw papers
Only roll up gas
Thick cloud
Can’t see past the dash
Bad gyal
On me, throwin’ ass
Whole clip
Tucked right by the stash (brrt, brrt)
Raw papers
Only roll up strong
If it ain’t top shelf
Then you rolled it wrong
Bandz up
Money talk so long
Whole life
Feel like one trap song (Raw papers)
Style
raphybrid trap-rap meets hazy reggae bounce: swung 808sskittering hi-hatswoozy keysand a deep offbeat skank. verses ride a confidentmenacing pocket with ad-lib echoes and filtered delay throws; hook explodes with stacked male vocalscrowd chantsand sub-heavy drops on every phrase. occasional tape-stop moments and riser sweeps for emphasiskeeping the energy club-ready and blunt-fueled.hip hopreggaeraw
Prompt
rap, trap, hip hop, reggae, heavy 808s, “Raw Papers” talk about smoking straight Gas and only rolling up Raws. Use some gun bars/use some bars about ladies/ use bars about money/use explicit lyrics
Credits
Prompt by
MalikKingston
MalikKingstonGeneratedMar 14, 2026
ModelAria v5
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