The Game Don't Stop
(专辑: Last Of A Dying Breed, Pt II - 2013)
[Verse 1:] I'm a
80's baby "Mercedes" made me Crack money and "Moet" made me crazy Strapped hungry with' no vest they named me "AZ" Amongst the
militant, too insane to raise me Was "Swayze" Some old school pimps embraced me And built real between daffodils and daisies amazed me The
cars changed, switched attire Broads came, partied like "Richard Pryor" [?] frames, no lens to protect my pupils Thou' their hearts changed, love amongst my men was neutral Beau'ful We puffed, there was dough to spread With' enough bread to [?] I
fled Instead I
had a
mouth to feed 19 my queen claimed she handled my seed Do the
right thing is wise, that's what "Spike Lee" said So disguised as a
mic fiend, my ties was dead [Chorus:] The
game don't stop 'Til the
player gets knocked Or the
shit flip-flop And you sitting on top [Verse 2:] My kid here, career in the
bloom I
don't live there no more, I
done moved to the
moon Whips is like spaceships that zoom on fumes Flooded bracelets they lit like an eclipse in june No cartoon I
symbolize the
coldest itself Once told he who hold don't expose his weatlh But what else When one life's faced with' crisis And you see hate replace the
holy faith of the
righteous I
just Handcuffed and jailed myself Jammed up and bailed myself With' no help Made my own V.I.s and mailed myself It's all B.I. I
had to tell myself I'm on lock The
game don't stop 'Til the
player gets knocked Or the
shit flip-flop And you sitting on top Flashing my wrist watch Like go get cops Bitch I'm legit got rich off Hip Hop [Chorus] [Verse 3:] I'm one man but so many monsters in me With' one gram had plans on conquering cities So on one hand could've signed and launched with' "Diddy" But I
ran with my other man, the
response was pretty A
few grams, a
few nigga's fiances with' me New sedans, was feeling like "Fonzworth Bentley" Who the
man? My homies at the
concerts with' me I
was back on my deen Then the
jacket with' the
jeans Then the
hating and slacking with' the
team Now I
know what it means Things ain't always what it seems It's the
ones that smoke blunts with' cha Rap with' cha But really want your black ass out the
picture Bet the
God won't slip I'm indie with' the
semi on the
"Remy" loaded talents in the
clips Rubber grip Got the
silence on the
tip So call it what you want I'm on my New York shit! [Chorus]