"“Paper” is about everything we take for granted in building music and community with people we love." - Defcee
""Paper"" is a flashback tracing the roots of our respective journeys as writers and performers, and offers testament to the people and places that shaped our experiences and informed our hustle." - CRASHprez
lyrics
“Paper”
CRASHprez
Open the hatch, catch my crumbs
Chicken with catfish, I’m numb
I got the gas in my lung
Secondhand dance on my tongue
Tiptoein’ all up the carport, nonstop tense
If Black Mom and Narc Dad catch this hotbox scent?
“Who made the kush your cologne?
Who else abusin’ them brews?
Who picked you up, got you home?
Don’t lie, did you do it too?”
Another Saturday night where I remained alive
Evasion of Satan’s stride with gang and our pages dry
Treat these stages like they sanctified
Basement sofa been a wave to ride, we pace with pagan pride
Faith adjacent to the famous lies engraved in space and time
Never makin’ haste with naked minds, we face this fate-
(That’s too much rappin’ ‘bout rappin’...)
I hope they palette my passion, but I still panic off package
How I’m gon’ pack it off practice when I can’t passive my praxis?
Gon’ and picture me tired
All my trauma designer
Hope you prime for the fire once all the commas entice ya (One)
HOOK: Defcee
We were splittin up this show paper.
We’d have done it all for no paper.
Broke the speed limit for slow paper.
Would do it all again, but we need more paper. More paper.
Defcee
Sick with a verse and a gram. We hid the cures in our hands.
We used to plan at the crib and rehearse in a van
on the way to the gig. Prayed that the pay was legit.
Never betrayed who we’re with. Ain’t built the same as the kids.
Dinner for two at a table for six. Slept overnight
in the car, hit the stage in that fit.
Tryna be swoll. Stuttered and stammered
when asked to describe how we flowed.
The patience we had was bout half
what was normal
but it depended the night of the show.
Riding these roads, right in the zone
we ignored flashing lights on our phones.
Fantasizin: what we’ll buy when we're on. Still didn’t price it to own.
All of my youngins are old. At least they’re cold.
I’ma forever be rapping their songs.
As I’m rememberin all of the studio trips where my big homies asked me to roll.
Those dreams didn’t die. They’re retiring now. Lighter in pounds. Some of us
fightin the clouds. The rest of us left on this Earth for the purpose of writin it down.
