Lyrics Topshottas Freestyle - Potter Payper

That′s Chucks
"Don't mix with them boys", that′s what your mother said (don't do it)
Now you're knee-deep in it and your brothers dead (pissed)
And anytime you see them see the colour red
Got you out here just scheming on their mum′s address
I don′t rate 'em but I got it on me nonetheless
Ganja breath talking to my babes ′bout I need to get away
I'm worried for my kids ′cause I got gangster DNA
You couldn't see me on my worst day (ever)
You weren′t 'bout it in the first place
That's how you end up with a burst face (rah)
Or you snitch, that′s the worst case
Streets tell me I′m the best with the wordplay
But that couldn't mean less in my workplace
They injecting their toes and their necks in my workplace
Young G′s, I'm banking the bath in my workplace (yeah)
And you′d think that was bad but I've had worst days
I take the coke out the water like a mermaid
I got the grub and told them, "See you next Thursday"
I got this bitch, you know she drink me like she thirsty
I think I′m money anytime I'm in Burberry
I used to have ten cats by the Curly Wurly
Now it's top shottas back in full effect
I grew up on the block, money, power and respect
I′m a product of the YOI′s, illegal neglect
Now these bottles get necked and these models give me neck
I'm a G by myself, I can′t get G-checked
I sign my own cheques, CEO and exec'
I wake up every morning, money affi mek
I say wake up like I′ve slept let that go over your head
I've been killin′ white girl like Lil' Mo and Trev
My life's a movie I ain′t Clooney or Depp
But if I have to take them steps it′s a tragedy
Mazzaleen, MAC on me like I'm from Aberdeen family
You ain′t ever bagged a nina's, sweets in the bag
Knocking doors like it′s Halloween
When I never had a dream, still I always had a fiend
Had to jack a pack, I never had a beam
Places that man had been, seen him get bun like jalapeen
Hot Tamale, round here they call me Abti but I'm not Somali
Let me take you on a block safari
Had ′em praying for the light but it's not Diwali
While they do you like Luca Brasi
No chit chat or no malarkey
Come proper like Mr Darcy
Jailhouse, always had a smartie
Had your baby mother moving tarty
This Amiri it's not Armani (ah)
This Amiri it′s not Armani (d′you get it?)
Shit
Buh-dah