Fire In The Booth, Pt. 2 Lyrics - Potter Payper

[Verse]
Hit a store, belly split four ways
Yak money, spend it all in four days
I'm from where it's really frying, don't get sauteed
I'm risking way too much to get shortchanged
I seen Tony push that needle in his poor vein
I pour pain on a track, now it's getting expensive
I love joking but I'm never pretending
I keep spending so much that they keep getting defensive
I got the heart of a Sparta
Nine of the strong, I let it rock like Nirvana
I guess this must be my karma
I'm in Barca, blowing weed by the harbour
Hoping you ain't poisoned by all that bad blood you choose to harbour
I know man who done things and now the fear haunts 'em
And now anytime I see 'em, it gets real awkward
The way I used to rock a ounce, it was flawless
And she gon' know this shit word-for-word, fuck a chorus
You wanna rap with me G, you ain't got the endurance
He used to trap with me, we used to deets the insurance
I used to know her, now she's just someone unimportant
Get your main road, side road James Cordoned
Big bellies, blow loud and I piss Henny
On the block like that bitch Jenny
Until they had me up in Moorlands, nine jails in three years
And them touring conditions was appalling
Enough to make you think about your life and start bawling
Enough to make you tell yourself you need to pack your all in
"Don't mix with them boys", that's what my mother said
My nanny too and I still hear her in my troubled head
There's feds three cars ahead, I need to chuck a left
I think about you, I get pain all in my upper chest
I wish I took you uptown in a fancy dress
And they ain't gangster in the slightest, it's just fancy dress
My bro used to gang bang, he gang banged to death
Nah literally, he gang banged to death
But I know Heaven's got a ghetto for the G's like us
I gotta live and make my nanny proud, please, I must
I'm still eating with my family, now they let the Dan free
Back up on my bullshit
Back then, it meant I'm selling grease where it's sandy
I can tell you tales 'bout my dirty crack pot
I'm an artist with my words and I do it in the streets
For the streets like Banksy
I'll go out on a whim for my bro, touch him
I'll spin on the first day of January
Now I can count M's for all them lost summers
Shit, remember we could barely count one-ers
I gave my whole life to this shit, it weren't sudden
Now they wanna act like I can't -