Potter Payper - Rap Game Lyrics

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
F*ck 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 f*ck 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 grave sites, 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
F*ck 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 their f*ckin' 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