L.A. Leakers - Freestyle #147 lyrics - The Game

 [The Game:]

Hey, yeah

Hey, it's a Hit-Boy beat, man, look

Check it out

Balenciaga shades, you know

Y'all niggas got me fucked up

Niggas must think I'm Lloyd Banks or Young Buck

Don't press your dumb luck, I got my gun tucked

'Cause I don't like how niggas did Nip'

I guess, it's time to show these niggas what it is, yeah

Lyrically, miracly, spiritually here in flesh

How I'm not top 5? Niggas appear to be deaf

So I'm throw up gang signs, you understand me now?

Keep sleeping, I'll put you where you can't be found

Where you can rest eternally and you can't hear sound

And your oldest son the head of your family now

Fuck 'em, 'cause we heading to Miami now

And it's a Hit-Boy beat, fuck a hand-me-down

No more freestyling over other nigga shit

I'm on some bigger shit

Hit make the beat, then I get on some Jigga shit

'Cause when I hit a rock, I'm getting involved

If I gotta get a rock chain from the middle of the mall

Nigga put a diamond tester to it, he gettin' hurt

If a bitch ass, I told him, Soulja boy did it first

Yeah, I'm back in business

And this time I'm not leavin' 'till the crack diminished

'Till the fentanyl dry and the veins don't stick out

And the nigga Questlove take the afro pick out

Back to my roots, freestyling to these black thoughts

Black Balenciaga, Adidas dashin' up the track call

Or I'm out in Paris snatching bitches off the catwalk

And when I kill a pussy, I don't even let the cat talk

Underground, underdog, sword to the asphalt

I stepped to all the dope niggas, they never seen crackwalk

Ain't no competition so Kendrick went to Africa

Ain't no competition, Cole went and got his baskets up

But I'm here masking up, with the masking tape

Fiends knockin' on the door, we closed, don't ask for yay

You see the Aftermath chain? Then don't ask for Dre

I'm a legend now, fuck when I pass away

Can't put the effin' down, up, then I blast away

Break his legs, stuff his shoulders in, no casket space

Now, I'm lying, it's just my rap alter ego

The DA listenin', tryin' to hit a Thug with the RICO

Know I be with gunners, know I keep the heat close

You can't relate 'cause you ain't seen what I've seen in that peephole

So, dig a sinkhole, though every nigga that rappin'

'Cause ever since they killed Pop Smoke, there'd been a gap in it

Throw all that cap in it, lying about the trap in it

Throw all these pussy niggas beefin' on this, absent

And I'm abstinent givin' no fucks, nigga

It's all love, like I'm sittin' here with Puff nigga

You can hate me now

But I won't stop now

I am the nigga they never mention at their hip-hop conventions

Know why? 'Cause I remind them of the trenches

So I must be Candyman of the era

Niggas won't say my name in the song or the mirror

It's not reflect on my past and my mishaps

My right hand still where my dick at

Middle finger up, flick that

'Till my new bitch sniffed that

That's your best friend I broke off like a KitKat

With a brick set, nah, we ain't sellin' those

And I still fuck with Ye, but we sellin' clothes

You, niggas, sellin' dreams, I wake you up to a nightmare

Like me, Freddy, Jason and Michael Myers right there

There's new niggas runnin' 'round like this is su casa

Call yourself Simba? You learn from Mufasa

And I understand you think you nice and you tryin' things

But if you say you better than me, then you the lying King

Ask about me, don't clash it, doubt me

I make your favorite rapper come pick up trash around me

Used to walk around New York, red rag around me

That was my DMX, dog tag around me

Never keep it twisted 'cause I keep a bag around me

I still jack rappers if they brag around me

Keep it private, everything first class around me

Like a Backwood, opps don't last around me

Lemon on the head of the drum, we make lemonade

One gun, plastic slug, then it disintegrate

Disappeared into the crowd like I'm in a Wraith

And go missin' like the crack when I'm in a rape

I do dirt like I'm in the grave, and fuck this rap shit

This ain't even how I'm gettin' paid

One, two, attention to the center stage

Fuck you, I'm back to my killin' ways

Three, four, niggas with me, then they prolly strapped

Shoe turnin' backwards like Just' LA Dodger Hat

Trigger finger twitching, bullets spin 'em like a laundromat

Like an Internet laggin', killin' where they spawn 'em at

I'm bad for your health, you're scared to die, hypochondriac

Pussy nigga gets an itch, hit him with the Monistat

'Cause once we goin' in it, ain't no fallin' back

And if that Draco on my lap, you know I'm in that Donda black

Ah, extra clip with a bomb at might as well kill him if I'ma end up with Jeffrey Dahmer, that's crazy

'Cause last night I was with Madonna with some supermodels, asking Hit where the condoms at

Shit, I gotta stay protected

This LA, they can take yo life before they take the necklace

Take the gun apart, spread the pieces, make the exit

Take the clothes off, burn 'em and then make the exit

Look around this motherfucker, it's like we're still in the '80s

Everybody with the shit, it's like a billionare baby

I've been drilling for this feelin', my adrenaline's satan

I'm the black Slim Shady, I've been killin' them lately

[The Game (Justin Credible):]

Get these niggas the fuck outta here, man

Drillmatic, August 12th, man

We ain't gonna play no games, man

Fuck all that (Game is here)

Nah, nah, Game was here, I'm out