Rap Game

Lyrics

[Verse] Let's not talk about the rap game Talk about that, I gotta talk about the back pain I'm tryna tell the boys money never made a man But I can get these nine double M suites man-made So they gon' probably roll you out quicker than your mixtape campaign first week Shit's scary like the 13th Friday I really see 'em get the foil out, that's burnt sheets I used to do twenty shots when they was point threes I still think about Flex, that was point three I still think about times when you was all me That was when he dropped the pack, it went walkies How you gangsters when you're out here just talkie? You say, "Free him," you ain't never sent a score sheet And you ain't never put nothin' on the score sheet I'm rich now, I guess I gotta love my pain 'Cause every day I'm puttin' Louis on my poor feet He kicks ball, but she knows I'm sellin' balls cheap Pussy wet like swimmin' in the Maldives It's kinda hard to find honour when we're all thieves Fuck it I shouldn't really drink all this Henny tequila Performin' in the bando like it's an arena I got them smokin' white while I'm smokin' sativa And if the jack boys come, more meat for my cleaver I'm rollin' with a stripper, that's a ghetto ballerina I really got it on me, make you do the Macarena What's one, two million? That's meagre, I'm eager Cah I was just on a phone to a cat like Sabrina I don't smoke paigons, I smoke sensimilla Still fuck your dead homies like necrophilia Guess who just keeps goin' never gets a breather And they can all rest assured, I ain't restin' either They know I'm really in the streets, I'm the correspondent Or I was in the jail house, that's correspondence Who cares he was broke? He forgot he's options I sold crack 'cause I had to, I got 2Pac problems Two packs and my knife, and I do that often Sit and think about my life, I don't do that often Hit my boys gravesides, I don't do that often Am I the problem or solution? This pain just constant I kept it real with you, and it's givin' me comfort They know Potter from the wing, I spray my cell with the comfort I was OT for years, I didn't need a accomplice Fuck Christopher Columbus, he needed a compass I'm with them right-or-wrong killers that's ridin' on punctures Till the wheels fall off, that's love in abundance Two-piece and my 9, that's suited and booted I swear I'm gettin' sick of all these double entendres I swear I'm gettin' sick of all the fuckin' assumptions They want the money so bad that they let it become them I don't think that's becomin' So don't invite me to your shit cah I won't be comin' Don't let me talk about the rap game Talk about that, I gotta talk about the back pain Don't let me talk about the streets Cah I seen gorillas turned rats, it's a rat race But I guess that's just another day in my matinee Maybe I should put it online, let you have a say