Lupe Fiasco - Game Time lyrics

As I gently pull up on the scene
I feel like ammunition for a sling shot
I'm trying to get triple sevens
On my slot machine
And knuckle up with time like a ring watch
With no wings, hustle man
Sitting in rubber band
A Dennis the Menace's weapon of choice
With the windows of his soul
Dead intended on the tinted
Windows of a Rolls
Broken glass on the driver's seat of a Royce
Now how am I supposed to sit
For Mister Wilson Drop a dime
Before another penny is spent on this game
Before I cough up the cost
And invest another thought
I walk without my bucket of change
But, I'm poor, materially speaking so
I can't be leaving this casino
With less than a c note
Even if it takes a grand to get it I ride
Just to see that my Sedan has been vandalized

Game time, don't get caught up in the
Magic keep your brain right
Cause things ain't what they seem like
It don't matter what they say
Just get the name right
Now that's L as in little
And U as opposite of me
And P as in Pistol and E as ine
Now players say that boy walking like a man
Treat you like you fam' and talking like a G

Now this is art, taylor made
Sharp, wrists'll kill razor blades
I do my part, chill like barber of Seville
Homie, it's like I'm paid to fade
Turn around and pay my dues
With the wages made
Then I tip like what a waitress paid
I'm a ghetto super star
Hand prints chillin' and my name
Written where the pavement lay
Turn around and place my shoes
Where the name engraved
Then my game is played
'till I'm rain delayed
Now thats my zone, far from an actor homes
Like a star map
This a G talking like Sesame Street
Referee the beats that I'm rapping on
They trying to de rail my train of thought
But, I'm Bruce Willis, ya'll don't feel it
While you break yourself like a car jack
This is hard black, like where my palms at

Now back to my scrap with time
My tat with the tickin', I make my fists
Wrap my wrist, leave the ring on
I could never get enough punch my clock
Clock my grip
Niggas tryin' to pull my card, stop my shift
Shift me to that graveyard
And knock my hustle
They hope I Domino and free up my delivery
And at the same time mark my magnificence
I'm just trying to do the opposite of left
As long as there is the opposite of death
You test
And I might just bring the opposite of life
Till there's no one the opposite of right
Check! As you bop down writer's block
And can't find it i address, I correct
You a dress, I'm a pair of pants
I'm a Motorola, you just a pair of cans
Couple Coca Colas and a string
Playa I'm 'bout my green like Martian's skin
A sinner on a side-walk
They Wavin' to from the floats in a parade
The Saint's Go Marchin' In