2 Chainz
2 Chainz - Letter To Da Rap Game songtekst
Je score:
This my letter to the rap game Hip hop, I'm a product of the trap mane Crack came, I didn't know how to act mane I did what I had to do when the pack came This is my letter to the rap game Hip hop, I'm a product of the trap mane Crack came, I didn't know how to act mane I did what I had to do when the pack came Wu-Tang Clan, they ain't nothin to fuck, wait 2 Chainz ain't nothing to fuck with Need search warrants cause these niggaz is suspects All I talk is money so Chainz is the subject Came in this motherfucker hundred grand strong To be exact, grinding the kush pact Ride with the roof back, live with a suit act Killing em, so I am dying my suit black Dear rap game, you are ill homie Havin me thinking we were gon' make some real money Came from the streets, I'm a beast, capiche? Lock my dick in the mail by the bills held And hey rap game, the real comin' The way I'm murking these niggaz hope your will comin' And when you're numb, it's kind of hard to feel somethin' I'm the type to get rich and still hustle, yeah And before I leave let me say this, play this Have my niggaz dead or in jail like Asic Face it, back to the basics 2 Chainz on them bitches, looking like Vegas, the greatest My worlds coming to an end, speaking philosophical Got the type of guns to make the city feel uncomfortable And we breaking bricks down, till the last molecule Cherish the horizon, sun blessed party, hey Thinking 'bout this business, and it's time that I gave away Trying to make a plan today, niggaz on there way Locked in confinement, gotta learn to levitate And on the inside, my instinct, I survive All I got left is pride, touchdown, I'mma ride I was raised as a boss Damn, I let a nigga take me off And let him tell Josh that his pops was soft Mothafucker Rocking blood diamonds, cooling in the hood with the goons Came on this, Cam is trying to buy us some Guccis It's a movie made, regardless, my crooks is the hardest Buying crazy pots and pans, stay in apartments Bank roll was all we ever needed While niggaz was weeded, playing space, and pumping crack in the ceiling Just fly young with heart, I sift in the park Made sales, blazed a few shells, yeah who cares who you are I'm honest, I make you cry like onions Stay in your lane, beat the name and we done I was legend yet, now my papar stretching, yeah, that's it Go ask the Rocky Glass, "I class act?" Villas, moving-making guerrillas, the willas The guest-star gun fights, squeeze on the squealers Don't come near me, nigga If you don't got no money, fear me Matter fact, move it, ya hear me?