Az - The Game Don't Stop lyrics

[Verse 1:] I'm a 80's baby "Mercedes" made me Crack money and "Moet" made me crazy Strapped hungry with' no vest they named me "AZ" Amongst the militant, too insane to raise me Was "Swayze" Some old school pimps embraced me And built real between daffodils and daisies amazed me The cars changed, switched attire Broads came, partied like "Richard Pryor" [?] frames, no lens to protect my pupils Thou' their hearts changed, love amongst my men was neutral Beau'ful We puffed, there was dough to spread With' enough bread to [?] I fled Instead I had a mouth to feed 19 my queen claimed she handled my seed Do the right thing is wise, that's what "Spike Lee" said So disguised as a mic fiend, my ties was dead [Chorus:] The game don't stop 'Til the player gets knocked Or the sh** flip-flop And you sittin' on top [Verse 2:] My kid here, career in the bloom I don't live there no more, I done moved to the moon Whips is like spaceships that zoom on fumes Flooded bracelets they lit like an eclipse in june No cartoon I symbolize the coldest itself Once told he who hold don't expose his weatlh But what else When one life's faced with' crisis And you see hate replace the holy faith of the righteous I just Handcuffed and jailed myself Jammed up and bailed myself With' no help Made my own V.I.s and mailed myself It's all B.I. I had to tell myself I'm on lock The game don't stop 'Til the player gets knocked Or the sh** flip-flop And you sittin' on top Flashin' my wrist watch Like go get cops b**h I'm legit got rich off Hip Hop [Chorus] [Verse 3:] I'm one man but so many monsters in me With' one gram had plans on conquering cities So on one hand could've signed and launched with' "Diddy" But I ran with my other man, the response was pretty A few grams, a few n***a's fiances with' me New sedans, was feelin' like "Fonzworth Bentley" Who the man? My homies at the concerts with' me I was back on my deen Then the jacket with' the jeans Then the hatin' and slackin' with' the team Now I know what it means Things ain't always what it seems It's the ones that smoke blunts with' cha Rap with' cha But really want your black a** out the picture Bet the God won't slip I'm indie with' the semi on the "Remy" loaded talents in the clips Rubber grip Got the silence on the tip So call it what you want I'm on my New York sh**! [Chorus]