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2020 Vision Freestyle Video (MV)




Performed By: Potter Payper
Length: 4:27
Written by: Jamel Bousbaa




Potter Payper - 2020 Vision Freestyle Lyrics
Official




(Cage got that cold)

(Where that drip at AJ?)

I know heaven's got a ghetto for the G's like us
Just a clean heart brudda who let the .35 buss
From knee high, trappin' in my Levi's bruck
'Til I got my money tall like fee-fi-fum

Chop a brick like Daniel-san
It's in your heart if you stand or run
You can't gamble some
When you bang your gun
It stays with you like days when your dad used to slap your mum
Before I snitch I'll cut out my tongue
Not on my worst enemy, on God I swear that shit can't run
I've got the streets all in my blood, for what it's worth
I've got spirits all in my cup, I'm gettin' burst
My heart, my soul, my pain in every verse
Mashin' works, you don't want no sitcho
But I'll go schizo', and shoot up the disco
And stick up the distro, all in a day's work
Still Hennessy and my spliff rolled
I'm gettin' the bag, I ain't sweatin' a slag
I get dirty for sixteen, it goes for twenty a slab
And I don't know Garfield, but I know Terry the cat
And if you give him six white, he'll rent you the flat
Feds will tell you anything, just to get you to rat
Moncler with the fur, and the red and the black
Money make your old bitches start beggin' you back
I need a house on the hill, suttin' semi-detached
'Cah livin' how I'm livin', I can never relax
G, I got fish in the bowl and the recipe's crack
And this fish talk to me like American Dad
And my dirty's a ten, leave your head in your lap
Chucks definitely tapped
Don't make him press on the Mac and air out
Chucks definitely tapped
Don't make him press on the Mac and air out
Moncler with the fur, and my diamonds looking burr
I'm rappin' and I'm trappin', I don't know what I prefer
All them years on the spur, seem to merge into a blur
Probably why I drink it from the bottle 'til I slur
Full throttle when I skrr, and they prayed for my return
I need my money, Mr. Burns, call me Monty
Cooler than the Fonzie, boolin' in the bando with a blondie
Paigons say they're on who? Paigons ain't on me
'Cah I've got that twenty-two inch, I'll kill a zombie
Never been Pompey but I trap on sea
Beam like at the trap like Grand Prix
Buses in the room when we convene
Scheming on bellies
Kitchen open real late like I'm eatin' at Eddy's
I have my young G's posted at cribs rockin' Ballys and semis
They ain't doin' no leggies
They just wanna do it like Kevin and Perry
I've spent mad years sleepin' at Debbie's, kippin' on settees
Spent mad years readin' on basic, like f*ck a telly
And now I take a bitch to the telly and she ain't basic
Now I need a crib for my nanny and one adjacent
I got it out the mud, out the gutter, out the basement
So I Alexander McQueen on occasion
Six on my kicks, LV's when I lace 'em
Bark it like Alsatians, strikers in formation
Bro hit a lick, twenty bricks off the Albanians
So I'm John Snow with the bird, I mean ravens
Shit, I said I'm John Snow with the birds, I mean ravens

I know heaven's got a ghetto for the G's like us
Just some clean heart bruddas who let the .35 buss
From knee high, trappin' in my Levi's bruck
'Til I got my money tall like fee-fi-fum

Yo
My baby girl told me I'm a deep thinker
See I've got so much on my mind but I can't speak with her
How could I tell her that my friends just schemin' her?
And more time I'm in the kitchen like Delia
They said, "P, back then you was greazier"
'Cah back then I found jail more easier
I was broke, now I step out like sim-simma
Black gun, black bimma, fat white hitter
I need twenty keys like the gym bar
And that ammonia smell, it just linger
Ridin' to some old school Timba
Flying through Becky, then I cut past Windsor
I'm in the crown court, no Judge Rinder
Gyaldem sugar, you won't catch me on Tinder
Catch me in the trap, and my foil and syringer
Long time P been a double wrap clinger
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Cage got that cold)

(Where that drip at AJ?)

I know heaven's got a ghetto for the G's like us
Just a clean heart brudda who let the .35 buss
From knee high, trappin' in my Levi's bruck
'Til I got my money tall like fee-fi-fum

Chop a brick like Daniel-san
It's in your heart if you stand or run
You can't gamble some
When you bang your gun
It stays with you like days when your dad used to slap your mum
Before I snitch I'll cut out my tongue
Not on my worst enemy, on God I swear that shit can't run
I've got the streets all in my blood, for what it's worth
I've got spirits all in my cup, I'm gettin' burst
My heart, my soul, my pain in every verse
Mashin' works, you don't want no sitcho
But I'll go schizo', and shoot up the disco
And stick up the distro, all in a day's work
Still Hennessy and my spliff rolled
I'm gettin' the bag, I ain't sweatin' a slag
I get dirty for sixteen, it goes for twenty a slab
And I don't know Garfield, but I know Terry the cat
And if you give him six white, he'll rent you the flat
Feds will tell you anything, just to get you to rat
Moncler with the fur, and the red and the black
Money make your old bitches start beggin' you back
I need a house on the hill, suttin' semi-detached
'Cah livin' how I'm livin', I can never relax
G, I got fish in the bowl and the recipe's crack
And this fish talk to me like American Dad
And my dirty's a ten, leave your head in your lap
Chucks definitely tapped
Don't make him press on the Mac and air out
Chucks definitely tapped
Don't make him press on the Mac and air out
Moncler with the fur, and my diamonds looking burr
I'm rappin' and I'm trappin', I don't know what I prefer
All them years on the spur, seem to merge into a blur
Probably why I drink it from the bottle 'til I slur
Full throttle when I skrr, and they prayed for my return
I need my money, Mr. Burns, call me Monty
Cooler than the Fonzie, boolin' in the bando with a blondie
Paigons say they're on who? Paigons ain't on me
'Cah I've got that twenty-two inch, I'll kill a zombie
Never been Pompey but I trap on sea
Beam like at the trap like Grand Prix
Buses in the room when we convene
Scheming on bellies
Kitchen open real late like I'm eatin' at Eddy's
I have my young G's posted at cribs rockin' Ballys and semis
They ain't doin' no leggies
They just wanna do it like Kevin and Perry
I've spent mad years sleepin' at Debbie's, kippin' on settees
Spent mad years readin' on basic, like f*ck a telly
And now I take a bitch to the telly and she ain't basic
Now I need a crib for my nanny and one adjacent
I got it out the mud, out the gutter, out the basement
So I Alexander McQueen on occasion
Six on my kicks, LV's when I lace 'em
Bark it like Alsatians, strikers in formation
Bro hit a lick, twenty bricks off the Albanians
So I'm John Snow with the bird, I mean ravens
Shit, I said I'm John Snow with the birds, I mean ravens

I know heaven's got a ghetto for the G's like us
Just some clean heart bruddas who let the .35 buss
From knee high, trappin' in my Levi's bruck
'Til I got my money tall like fee-fi-fum

Yo
My baby girl told me I'm a deep thinker
See I've got so much on my mind but I can't speak with her
How could I tell her that my friends just schemin' her?
And more time I'm in the kitchen like Delia
They said, "P, back then you was greazier"
'Cah back then I found jail more easier
I was broke, now I step out like sim-simma
Black gun, black bimma, fat white hitter
I need twenty keys like the gym bar
And that ammonia smell, it just linger
Ridin' to some old school Timba
Flying through Becky, then I cut past Windsor
I'm in the crown court, no Judge Rinder
Gyaldem sugar, you won't catch me on Tinder
Catch me in the trap, and my foil and syringer
Long time P been a double wrap clinger
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jamel Bousbaa
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group


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