[Chorus: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
I got too much paper to count
I think I need another hand
I'm leaning too hard
I think I need a kickstand
Real trap nigga, never did a scam
Cook up the brick and I'm switching my hand
Shoot with the chopper, make you do the Running Man
Section 8 trap worth over a hundred bands
Got dope tan, made the junkies dance
Got dope tan, made a hundred bands
Got dope tan, nigga cooking in the pan
Got dope tan, I'll sell you a gram
Got dope tan, I'll serve the dope man
I got dope tan, put the coke in the can
I got dope tan out the boat when it land
I got dope tan, I'm the dopeman

[Verse 1: Hoodrich Pablo Juan]
Serving and selling
Got a brick in the car, that's a felon
Got a plug with the gauge, he gon' mail it
Smuggle the brick with the watermelon
My friend gon' kill him if he telling
DC Sniper, they gon' come for weapons
Cooked a brick up in my Margielas
Business etiquette, GoodFellas
I throw up the rock like I'm Roc-A-Fella
My trap beat drugs, acapella
I'm drinking that raw, I got salmonella
These junkies, they love me, I cook it up
The dopeman, he love me 'cause I got whatever
That dope tan bought a new Rollie belt
I bet you that work had that money you felt
Trapaholic, trapping anywhere
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