Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Letter to Da Rap Game’ by 2 Chainz. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 2 Chainz or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
This my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
This is my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
Chef what’s happenin’, Ghost what’s up?
Wu Tang Clan, they ain’t nothin to f*ck, wait
2 Chainz ain’t nothing to f*ck with
Need search warrants cause these niggas is suspects
All I talk is money so Chainz is the subject
This my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
This is my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
Came in this motherfucker hundred grand strong
Two to be exact, grinding the kush pact
Ride with the roof back, live with a suit act
Killing em, so I am dying my suit black
Dear rap game, you are ill homie
Havin me thinking we were gon’ make some real money
Came from the streets, I’m a beast, capiche?
Like my dick in the mailbox when the bills come, oh!
And hey rap game, the real comin’
The way I’m murking these niggas hope your will comin’
And when you’re numb, it’s kind of hard to feel somethin’
I’m the type to get rich and still hustle, yeah
And before I leave let me say this, play this
Have my niggas dead or in jail like Asic
Face it, back to the basics
2 Chainz on them bitches, looking like Vegas, the greatest
This my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
This is my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
My world’s coming to an end, speaking philosophical
Six’s on the coupe, when they said it was impossible
Got the type of guns to make the city feel uncomfortable
And we breaking bricks down, till the last molecule
Cherish the horizon, sun blessed party, hey
Thinking ’bout this business, and it’s time that I gave away
Trying to make a plan today, niggas on there way
Locked in confinement, gotta learn to levitate
And on the inside, my instinct, I survive
All I got left is pride, touchdown, I’mma ride
I was raised as a boss
Damn, I let a nigga take me off
And let him tell Josh that his pops was soft
Mothafucker
This my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
This is my letter to the rap game
Hip hop, I’m a product of the trap mane
Crack came, I didn’t know how to act mane
I did what I had to do when the pack came
Rocking blood diamonds, cooling in the hood with the goonies
Gambling and scrambling, trying to buy us some guchi’s
It’s a movie made, regardless, my crooks is the hardest
Buying crazy pots and pans, stay in apartments
Bank roll was all we ever needed
While niggas was weeded, playing spades, and pumping crack in adidas
Just fly young with heart, I sift in the park
Made sales, blazed a few shells, yeah f*ck who you are
Guns on us, I make you cry like onions come through
Stay in your lane, peep the name and we done it
I was legend yet, now my papar stretching, yeah, that’s it
Go ask the Rocky Glass, “I class act?”
Villas, movie-making gorillas, the willas
The guest-star gun fights, squeeze on the squealers
Don’t come near me, nigga
If you don’t got no money, fear me
Matter fact, move it, ya hear me?