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I'm a 80's baby "Mercedes" made me |
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Crack money and "Moet" made me crazy |
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Strapped hungry with' no vest they named me "AZ" |
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Amongst the militant, too insane to raise me |
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Was "Swayze" |
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Some old school pimps embraced me |
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And built real between daffodils and daisies amazed me |
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The cars changed, switched attire |
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Broads came, partied like "Richard Pryor" [?] frames, no lens to protect my pupils |
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Thou' their hearts changed, love amongst my men was neutral |
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Beau'ful We puffed, there was dough to spread |
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With' enough bread to [?] |
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I fled Instead |
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I had a mouth to feed 19 my queen claimed she handled my seed |
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Do the right thing is wise, that's what "Spike Lee" said |
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So disguised as a mic fiend, my ties was dead [Chorus:] |
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The game don't stop ' |
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Til the player gets knocked |
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Or the shit flip-flop |
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And you sittin' on top [Verse 2:] |
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My kid here, career in the bloom |
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I don't live there no more, |
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I done moved to the moon |
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Whips is like spaceships that zoom on fumes |
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Flooded bracelets they lit like an eclipse in june |
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No cartoon |
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I symbolize the coldest itself |
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Once told he who hold don't expose his weatlh |
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But what else |
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When one life's faced with' crisis |
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And you see hate replace the holy faith of the righteous |
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I just Handcuffed and jailed myself |
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Jammed up and bailed myself |
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With' no help |
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Made my own |
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V.I.s and mailed myself |
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It's all B. |
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I. I had to tell myself |
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I'm on lock |
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The game don't stop ' |
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Til the player gets knocked |
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Or the shit flip-flop |
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And you sittin' on top |
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Flashin' my wrist watch |
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Like go get cops |
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Bitch I'm legit got rich off |
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Hip Hop [Chorus] [Verse 3:] |
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I'm one man but so many monsters in me |
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With' one gram had plans on conquering cities |
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So on one hand could've signed and launched with' "Diddy" |
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But I ran with my other man, the response was pretty |
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A few grams, a few nigga's fiances with' me |
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New sedans, was feelin' like "Fonzworth Bentley" |
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Who the man? |
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My homies at the concerts with' me |
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I was back on my deen |
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Then the jacket with' the jeans |
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Then the hatin' and slackin' with' the team |
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Now I know what it means |
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Things ain't always what it seems |
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It's the ones that smoke blunts with' cha |
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Rap with' cha |
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But really want your black ass out the picture |
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Bet the God won't slip |
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I'm indie with' the semi on the "Remy" loaded talents in the clips |
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Rubber grip |
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Got the silence on the tip |
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So call it what you want |
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I'm on my |
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New York shit! [Chorus] |
