Paper Planes Lyrics – Deep Green

Paper Planes Lyrics Meaning

[Verse 1]
He starts off saying he doesn’t care that certain people don’t deal with him anymore—they were never real anyway. He asks his boy for some quick cash because he’s going through it emotionally but still trying to look strong. While others are behind on rent, he’s paid six months ahead and driving a high-tech car that basically drives itself. The phone keeps ringing—he’s built his name and hustle without any handouts. He rolls with his close boy like a cartoon duo, feeling proud about showing up to an award show armed and confident. He shrugs off getting jumped by some people, saying it wasn’t a big deal. Things could’ve gone worse if his weapon hadn’t jammed, hinting at how close things came to violence. He left the area angry and frustrated, needing space to cool off. At the same time, his boy was armed and serious—ready for action, not just messing around. But people would rather spread rumors and call him a snitch than talk about the real stuff he’s done. Someone told him about some fresh gear, and he’s got enough cash to buy six without thinking. He compares holding a weapon to holding a government-issued whistle, something official and powerful. He’s used to money now—made a lot, seen a lot. Meanwhile, others around him look broke and tired. His money doesn’t even fold anymore; it just clinks because it’s so much. He’s counting stacks like it’s nothing, feeling like Freddie Gibbs, and says he stacks cash like a tower of Pringles—one on top of the other with no end in sight.

[Chorus]
His days all feel the same—wake up and roll a joint to deal with stress. The joint doesn’t give him a vacation or solve problems; it just helps him stay mentally balanced. If he runs into an enemy, he’s ready for violence. He’s still cutting and selling drügs and living flashy like a boss card in a deck, the Ace of Spades.

[Verse 2]
He says he doesn’t want to end up like Denzel’s character in *Training Day* but has definitely lived through similar chaos. The police once raided his home and took his money, trying to set him up like he’s someone shady, like Macy Gray. These days, he’s moving weight in bulk—bricks and boxes—but he started small, with just an eighth of drügs. He had to bring in his guy, Toxin, who handles the scales and keeps the supply moving. His customers, or “cats,” range from young and wild to old and addicted. He’s focused on making it big, dreaming of flashy jewelry with big diamonds. He’s also attracting women now who can’t handle all the attention and lifestyle he brings. He remembers when life was rough, but things have flipped, and now he’s enjoying the success. He talks about doubling up money with his crew and having weapons ready, comparing his bullets to Halloween candy—plenty and dangerous. He’s got a gun loaded and says it’ll be a sad day for anyone he has to use it on. He smokes a lot of weed to relax, saying he avoids harder drügs like coc*ine. He’s aiming for millions, like how McDonald’s racks up big numbers, and his drug hustle is wild and intense. He had to stash cash in his uncle’s freezer just to keep it safe. Working night shifts, he’s chasing money, sometimes so tired he could pass out. He made nearly 40 grand in one week and wants to unwind. Maybe take a trip to Rome or Greece just to escape, since his life feels repetitive. Like Nines said, everything stays the same, just with different labels. Even though he’s grinding hard daily, it’s all part of chasing his end goal—he’s not quitting. He admits he’s made bad choices and struggled to change, especially after getting a taste of fame. His focus stayed on the streets and the game, even before he got dressed in the morning, he was already testing weed strains.

[Chorus]
Again, he repeats how every day feels stuck on repeat—wake up, light a joint, try to keep sane. He’s still deep in the streets, where violence is always an option, and drügs are still part of the picture. Despite everything, he carries himself like a boss, staying flashy and sharp like the Ace of Spades.