Potter Payper - Too Much Years lyrics
[Potter Payper - Too Much Years lyrics]
Too much years in jail they
Say I've gone mad
08, I was running wild with my don strap
That’s why they call me Potter
'cah they know where my wands at
44 long I'll have it kicking like Ong-Bak
Jakes wan harass me, so I take back streets
Pagans wan catch me, so I keep it ballsed off
Catch me I make you Bullet Boy like Ashley
Now im tryin to mash p, push white smash b
Tryna cop the drop top
Two smoking barrels and a lock stock
Line ringing non-stop, firing
Grind like I grind and this grind gets tiring
Mummy said ‘you made your bed
Son you gotta lie in it’
Got me flying OT, A12 full speed
Big spliff peng cheese
Beamer Bentley benz ps
Weed up in the tent p's
For my mummy struggle so I had
To pay the rent gs
Bad my brother KV, bad my brother g star
Life ain’t a game, if it was- I would restart
Instead I’m in this fiend’s yard
Gan hard like scarface for his green card
Crushing big buds in my palm tryna de-stress
Stuck up in this street mess
Chilling in the deep end
Surrounded by some fake friends
When I’m just tryna make ends
Meet like the underground
Jezzys wanna run me down
Telling me they love me now
Lick it and put suttin down
Chewies and my button down
Smelling like a weed house
Been cutting trees down
Still throw up gang sign, never put my B down
Communities fiend out, never let me be child
They was having sleepovers- I
Used to sleep out
I’m a real street boy, dope man d-boy
All about a reload, hood miss lebo
Line on early like t-fo, Shit I mean t4
Line bang- c4, box money- g4
I ain’t tryna be poor
If I had a wish I’d wish I could see more
Abide by the street law
Up and down in and out
Dargie till my feet sore
Dizzle told me take time
Analyse the road side
Diz I gotta get it fam you
Know what these roads like
I could tell these youths what sosh like
I ain't playing ping pong
Dargie im a grown man
Still miss terror shit my nigga
Was the cro man
RIP Wallace, RIP fulla, jesus allah budda
I’m just praying that they let
Real Gs into heaven earl grinds eleven
Streets took me round eleven
Say I've gone mad
08, I was running wild with my don strap
That’s why they call me Potter
'cah they know where my wands at
44 long I'll have it kicking like Ong-Bak
Jakes wan harass me, so I take back streets
Pagans wan catch me, so I keep it ballsed off
Catch me I make you Bullet Boy like Ashley
Now im tryin to mash p, push white smash b
Tryna cop the drop top
Two smoking barrels and a lock stock
Line ringing non-stop, firing
Grind like I grind and this grind gets tiring
Mummy said ‘you made your bed
Son you gotta lie in it’
Got me flying OT, A12 full speed
Big spliff peng cheese
Beamer Bentley benz ps
Weed up in the tent p's
For my mummy struggle so I had
To pay the rent gs
Bad my brother KV, bad my brother g star
Life ain’t a game, if it was- I would restart
Instead I’m in this fiend’s yard
Gan hard like scarface for his green card
Crushing big buds in my palm tryna de-stress
Stuck up in this street mess
Chilling in the deep end
Surrounded by some fake friends
When I’m just tryna make ends
Meet like the underground
Jezzys wanna run me down
Telling me they love me now
Lick it and put suttin down
Chewies and my button down
Smelling like a weed house
Been cutting trees down
Still throw up gang sign, never put my B down
Communities fiend out, never let me be child
They was having sleepovers- I
Used to sleep out
I’m a real street boy, dope man d-boy
All about a reload, hood miss lebo
Line on early like t-fo, Shit I mean t4
Line bang- c4, box money- g4
I ain’t tryna be poor
If I had a wish I’d wish I could see more
Abide by the street law
Up and down in and out
Dargie till my feet sore
Dizzle told me take time
Analyse the road side
Diz I gotta get it fam you
Know what these roads like
I could tell these youths what sosh like
I ain't playing ping pong
Dargie im a grown man
Still miss terror shit my nigga
Was the cro man
RIP Wallace, RIP fulla, jesus allah budda
I’m just praying that they let
Real Gs into heaven earl grinds eleven
Streets took me round eleven