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clavish & potter payper - 10th floor lyrics
[verse 1: clavish]
i hit the stage, and the worst that can happen is i get booed (booed)
but that’s better than my crib, getting boomed (boomed)
armed jakes with their guns out, telling me and mommy not to move
used to turn one into two
a thousand used to be my reup, spent a thousand on some shoes
hide my face and leave my phone at home, ain’t tryna leave no clues (clues)
i’m from the jungle, not a zoo
yo my block’s p_ssy, i used to be p_ssed poor when i never had a traphouse
[chorus: clavish]
used to bag it on the fifth floor, the sixth floor
the seventh floor, the eighth floor, the ninth floor, the tenth floor
mom told me watch my friends but mommy what are friends for
in the streets you pick a side, why you sittin’ on the fence for?
told them n_ggas don’t slip like a wet floor
[verse 2: clavish]
my chain’s always untucked, my rambo’s always uncl!cked
my chain costs more than one brick, my knife got more than one pr_ck
i got way more than one stick, i’m too lit for just one b_tch
mommy thinks her son’s rich, your drillers, they ain’t done sh_t
my youngin’ got, murder on his mind or attempt
that mac at chloe’s house was never ever mine
just used to rent it, i’m renting
if the phone does two a day, i’ll give her 10 bits but don’t ask me for no more
unless i’m whipping and i stretched it, a cat overdosed
but i don’t know if i’m meant to say sorry
i ain’t k!lled no one before
but my bobby caught a body
g17 on me, person next to me got the shotty
my wrist always raining, my watch should have came with a brolly
[chorus: clavish]
the sixth floor, the seventh floor, the eighth floor, the ninth floor, the tenth floor
mom told me watch my friends but mommy what are friends for
in the streets you pick a side, why you sittin’ on the fence for?
told them n_ggas don’t slip like a wet floor
[verse 3: potter payper]
more time when i’m rapping i just paint pictures
more time they’re just capping, they’re some shapeshifters
full time i was trapping, check the rain p_ssing
check the snow, i scr_pe bowls like cake mixers
rap star, fans stop me now and take pictures
i used to hand them out
i’m fat white with four eyes i’m used to standing out
i got mashes for your pockets, ones with clips hanging out
they know potter from the jail house, i’ve been banging out
ask whisper how i cut him to his bones
he ain’t never slap sh_t, well probably his spouse
i’m 36 and 0, i never need no one to vouch
i got 10/10 chocolate, have them on the couch slouching
i used to run the hotline, i ain’t on the phone mouthing
i make your cats set up your workers and we’re turning up at houses
and he who laughs last, laughs loudest
now they’re paying euros, that’s at least three hundred thousand
any time i hear a tap run i get nostalgia
cah i used to mix it like, tiffany calver
tenth floor, ninth floor, eighth floor, p_ssed on the seventh floor
sixth floor, fifth floor, where i keep my powder
i turn the cat’s house, to the dorchester
i had three phones ringing like a orchestra
i had the bando packed like the morning bus
i blew mum and them a kiss and left the court in cuffs
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