Done With The Games

Ain't playin' no more bitch, yeah I'm done with the games
Yeah, I've been keeping score, give a fuck what you say
If this shit was a sport I would've won every game
Cause when you come from nothing you gon' love what you made

Look, I'm too old for the games
All I do is think of all these huge goals in my aim
I came from nothing I want the new clothes with the chain
Tryna settle down I fucked a few hoes in my days though
What's with the name? Shoot dope in they veins
Poke seen Too much of it not trying to do the same bros
From the gutter with the spacciatori
The mean dealer in Italian shit, pops Im sorry
Went from not much to being clutch Robert Horry
Yeah I got a story from the bottom to the top with glory
Like Montessori I'll be schooling some students on game
Through with all the stupid shit influence the youth and them gains
Make money and be humble, get the bag don't let it fumble
You got snakes that's in the jungle
Who gon' play you like they love you
But they fakin' you Blow your head up like an inflatable
Ego-centric people tend to do this that's relatable
Your heights without you is not possible, not obtainable
Bunch of yes-men in your ear, whatever you say they cater to
Day one's only it's been the same with you
I don't got a brush but do the same shit a painter do Picasso

Ain't playin' no more bitch, yeah I'm done with the games
Yeah, I've been keeping score, give a fuck what you say
If this shit was a sport I would've won every game
Cause when you come from nothing you gon' love what you made

Yeah, going through the motions and sometimes I get emotional
Body filled with drugs, say a prayer that I don't overdose
Raised up by the mob, sometimes I feel like Cologiono
Got this bad bitch with me in a Chanel purse and open toes
Young and drunk, the plays for me lately
I've been coaching those
These dark shades got me feeling unapproachable
Stressed out, might spend a weekend in the Poconos
In a fight with life lately, I've been going blow for blow
Back against the wall and I'm fighting with my fist clenched
Brody wet the party up, he tryna leave that bitch drenched
Palm angels on my body, walking this bitch with a big trench
I was on my raw, it's the fourth quarter, I don't give a shit
Shout out to my boy Junk I think most you rappers trash
Play this shit in traffic, how you speeding on a show to fast
Hades was behind me, I'm like fuck it though
I hit the gas PO said I couldn't smoke, fuck it though, I hit the gas

Ain't playin' no more bitch, yeah I'm done with the games
Yeah, I've been keeping score, give a fuck what you say
If this shit was a sport I would've won every game
Cause when you come from nothing you gon' love what you made



Credits
Writer(s): Ian Tonino, Myles Lockwood
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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