Don’t that shit make you happy? Doesn’t it feel so real? Don’t that shit make you happy? Paper gon’ spin the wheel. Don’t that shit make you happy? Floating through the night, surreal. Don’t that shit make you happy? Magic you can’t conceal. Paper with the ink turn scribbles to bands, Digits on the sheet put the weight in my hands. Rabbit on the floor, shorty bounce to the bass, Pig still cappin’, tryna cover his face. Pig buy rabbit, gator flash grill, Posted by the docks where the hustle stay real. Paper run the block, ink lock tight, Chain on the deal when you sign at night. Tail keep twitchin’, bluff still sell, Talk stay cheap but the crowd buy well. Dreams like flex, fade quick in the smoke, Wake up broke think the whole shit’s a joke. Don’t that shit make you happy? Doesn’t it feel so real? Don’t that shit make you happy? Paper gon’ spin the wheel. Don’t that shit make you happy? Floating through the night, surreal. Don’t that shit make you happy? Magic you can’t conceal. Ink on the check, that’s a will or a dub, Stack for the dinner or get stuck in the club. Line on the paper cut deep like a blade, Every black stroke put a tax on the day. Rabbit still jiggin’, pig still preach, Gator by the banks where the big plays reach. Paper set codes, ink lay trap, Round keep spinnin’ like a hoodie on snap. Dance through the night, hungover at noon, Chasin’ after notes that dissolve too soon. Round keep turnin’, carousel spin, Happy or hollow — depend who win. Don’t that shit make you happy? Doesn’t it feel so real? Don’t that shit make you happy? Paper gon’ spin the wheel. Don’t that shit make you happy? Floating through the night, surreal. Don’t that shit make you happy? Magic you can’t conceal.
