Top Shotta - Termanology, Joey Bada$$

Top shotta, boy

Ya feel me?

Top shotta, boy

Sippin' this liquor off the 8th floor balcony

Thinkin' how I made the whole world bounce for me

I had to bubble on the low and blow silently

No longer wanna be the one to live violently

Two baby mamas, two baby’s, that’s four mouth’s to feed

A hundred friends but none of em looking out for me

Got tax issues, got debts, and got accountant fees

But I just wanna heal my pain with this cloud of tree

Is it all in my mind, or am I paranoid

Is this karma in the air, one I can’t avoid

Can I, lord?

Ask you to gimme the strength to not lust for anything I can’t afford

I don’t need no awards or nothing immature

I was more thinking less nightmare

And mental wars

Thinking how my Aunt Tammy died last month

Got me smoking every el like it’s my last blunt

I keep it humble don’t chill with people that’s gassed up

Some of my friends rich, some of them on they last buck

How could I stop showing you love cuz you had bad luck

Anybody could vouch for me—any hood I get mad love

The fusillade get sprayed, never delayed

I’m just coming for a blaze, every time I blaze

Take a minute just to look back in the days

As I reminisce the maze

But I’m still a caged rat, that’s a staged fact

And you should page 8 that

Trying to get the papers

Caught up, up on the vapors

Hiatus to my haters

The pupil’s dilators

See 'em how they traitors

And then they rate us greatest and then they slave us

And enslave us in and engrave in our mind

That we can’t be the greatest

«We wasted too much time»

Taking time for granted

The food of life I planted

I pomegranate—last man repping for the planet

I guess they granted

All my African Bambaataa patois

Pot of gold, I make that Harry Potter «poof»

You rappers not a sun;

You not hotter

Pick up like papa to the realest top shotta

Top shotta, boy