Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Not a Game, artist - Troy Ave. Album song White Christmas 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.12.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: BSB
Song language: English
Not a Game |
I’m on some New York shit, to the Max so wavy |
And i hustle hard like my name Maino or 80 |
Though i’m my moms first baby, Roc-A-Fella did raise me |
She said i was a Bad Boy, but now i’m more like Jay Z |
During Reasonable Doubt i went the independent route |
Now i’m the big poppa that the industry talk 'bout |
Coogi sweaters and all, praise God and my faith |
Free to GS9 i hope them niggas beat up that case |
I’m still gettin' mine, young and cocky |
I’ma be the king ASAP, no Rocky |
Unless we talk about my jewellery, the wrist and my neck on glitter |
Me and Block was coke boys before French Montana |
R.I.P. |
Chinx, ya boy about to bring in the bricks |
A city on lock, Raekwon and Ghost, Cuban my links |
Them is O.G.'s man i might be the youngest O. G |
Right after Fab, that’s family, luck 'til i’m |
In this soil i was raised to be loyal |
My squad are several, my pockets don’t go though |
Might flip the mode, put my Porche on auto |
It’s gon' be a ruff rydin' like X, where my dawgs go |
This one here fo' fo', nigga even think |
That will be a hit, should’ve signed to Murder Inc |
Or maybe GMG, Uncle Murda what you think |
My whole set dip down in different color minks |
Jewels and the gems, shining like a motherfucker |
Standin' in front of the cam, lining like a motherfucker |
We don’t Mobb Deep, but i rock with P and Hav |
Guess some d on the block that thing went fast |
Countin' up the Louch, stylin' like P |
Now ima MCM, hoes tryna kiss me |
A nigga on the run like N.O.R.E |
We the breaking news, CNN, BSB Records nigga |
And you see us out here hoopin' |
Free B-Loved and Bang they ain’t do that shooting |
But i’m a gun clapper, Yayo weighing bagger |
With mad Bucks in the Banks, Fifty my favorite rapper |
I got one milli, now i’m tryna get two |
Put rocks on any block, watch the fiends fall through |
Never been caught, God bless we know we had to choose |
Somehow the flow is sick, so sick i just flew |
In from out of town, they always sayin' |
We don’t fuck with New York rappers, you the one that we playin' |
The South said they jackin' our slang, that shit wack |
Seeing that fuck 12 now every line is a trap |
A lame from Texas was sippin' lean tryna be Future |
If it wasn’t for you, your city wouldn’t have a future |
L.A. say Kendrick got God, but Troy be spittin' |
You tell stories like Nas when It Was Written |
Chicago said niggas wanna bang like us |
Now it’s blown up, come on dawg enough is enough |
Who held it down when niggas was licking Westcoast dick |
But tryna sound like Atlanta desperate for a hit, record |
I’m on record saying I don’t respect it |
I’m just splittin' image they way I record on my records |
You guessed it the young king hails from New York City |
I fuck with YG cause he look and sound like his bity |
Migos, Gucci and Thug got that country bass |
If it ain’t from Chi-Raq then that drill don’t count |
If you a swagger-jacker and your shoe fits this Ether |
Niggas got they own fucking sound clown don’t need ya |
They ain’t come here for that or your remix neither |
You don’t go to the Chinese store when you want pizza |
They ain’t come here for that or your remix neither |
You don’t go to the Chinese store when you want pizza |