[Chorus: sung by Tracey Nelson]
Walkin down the street, in my All Stars
In my, khaki suit, doin what (I) do
Walkin down the street, smokin, chronic
In my black locs, lookin, (AT) you
[The Game]
Guess who's back on the West coast tracks
It's the motherfuckin messiah of gangsta rap
Still dip in the six-fo', still puffin on the same chronic
Haters mad cause I still got it
I never fall off, even without the Doc
You niggaz sellin your soul tryin to stay on top
Bitch nigga check your Kotex, you niggaz ain't movin shit
like the hand on a fake-ass Rolex
I'm five million sold, the cover of my last album
the only time you see me sittin on gold
I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated
Most loved and the motherfuckin most hated
Keep rollin like gold Daytons
Niggaz got the game fucked up like Hennessy with a Coke chaser
You gotta deal with me, I'm the West coast saviour
Niggaz think of me everytime they six-fo' scraper
[Mac Minister]
What do you call a nigga who's overbearin
Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful
You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate
He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his heyday in the worst way
The five star surgeon general
Took Jayceon to the Aftermath research department
And gave him a blood test
It came back G-A-M-E positive
The nigga's infected with the Game virus
His oratorical skills are so impeccable
That niggaz in the streets call him Cyrus
The young don who is down with violence
cause in his heart he's a tyrant
It's not a game, it's just called The Game
There'll be no referees, no halftime reports
When the game is over, The Game is over
You can't put a quarter in the machine and get three mo' men
THAT'S, the end
[Chorus]
[The Game]
I done been to hell and back
Left for dead, you know who to thank for that
Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track
You can take my soul but can't take my plaques
I'm the motherfuckin snare when it touch the beat
I'm the 808 drum that got you movin your feet
I'm the heir to the throne after the D-R-E
Product of my environment, you old-ass niggaz
get ready for your early retirement
Before I let hip-hop burn down I run in the building like a fireman
Who can outspit me when I'm high off sticky
Throwin back Patron shots in some creased up dickies
I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube (Lynch'd) me
Snoop stamped me and the good Doc handpicked me
You still with me? Me and my mic
can't be seperated like Interscope and - hahaha
Ohhh shit
This some good ass motherfuckin weed
California sticky green!
This is the aftermath for the Aftermath
West, coast!
Da Shit lyrics - The Game
[Intro:]
Now where's the shit?
The shit?
The shit!
N*gga whatsup man?
Come on kill that noise man, let's just get the shit,
Don't worry, you'll get the shit,
You'll be,
Knee deep in shit!
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Verse 1:]
I let the whole world know that I can't be stopped,
Even without Doc I'm still from the (Streets of Compton),
Yeah ***** I said it, and I'ma stay on top,
Like a hoodrat with bomb ass cock,
Run up in 'em like these rap *****z, I ain't gotta clap *****z,
End your career with one line like that *****z,
Hit the switch front and back, make it bounce,
Let it jump, Killa-for-ni-a is where I'm from,
3 wheelin' with the ass out, smoke chronic 'til I pass out,
All the way to my ***** Daz house,
He always gotta big bad bitch from Long Beach,
She a known freak and she gotta long reach,
She gon' touch it, suck it, fuck it, never back down,
'specially when Al Green in the background,
Now bitch hit the weed and turn that ass round,
It's time to bring back Chronic into Doggystyle,
Westcoast *****z still holdin' shit down,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Verse 2:]
I'm back on the cover of the Source and the XXL,
Floatin' all through the (Streets of Compton),
I got more bitches, more plaques, more beef, and more straps,
That's what the fuck I call "Gangsta rap",
I was the Aftermath remedy 'til friends turn enemies,
Streets kept me laced like bloods dipped in hennesse,
You *****z act like the Game can't roll 'em out,
One man show still sell a motherfucker out,
We know Dre still sell a motherfucker out,
'cus everybody here from the (Streets of Compton),
We got crip *****z, blood *****z, assays, asians,
Red and blue laces, tattoos on faces,
I kept you *****z waiting had to take you back to the basics,
Switch the Impala from gold to chrome Daitons,
Everytime your bitch hear my voice she masturbating,
I run though hoes like Walter Payton on the daily,
I got your main bitch swallowing my babies,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
I'm the Westcoast Rakim, got you *****z blocked in,
Glass house parked sideways on the stock rims,
New school, old school mentality,
Translation - Four pumps and twelve batteries,
Hydraulics make the world go round,
Your girl go down, chronic make your girl slow down,
For she end up like superhead, giving superhead,
Every ***** in the industry now fuck superhead,
And I might just fuck her too,
If I ever catch her sliding or riding through the (Streets of Compton),
Rolling down Green Leaf smoking on that green leaf,
With a Mac 10 like I was born on Queen's Street,
Murder MCs like I was born in Queen's Bridge,
That how I show you palm *****z where the King is,
And you don't wanna play chess on a time clock,
I'm in the Hall Of Fame next to Snoop, behind 'Pac,
I got the whole motherfucking world locked,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Outro:]
Everybody wanna know what the fuck is going on,
Am I signed to Aftermath? Interscope? What's up with Geffen?
I'ma just say it like this:
One day I walked in the motherfuckin' house,
And all my shit was gone.
Now where's the shit?
The shit?
The shit!
N*gga whatsup man?
Come on kill that noise man, let's just get the shit,
Don't worry, you'll get the shit,
You'll be,
Knee deep in shit!
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Verse 1:]
I let the whole world know that I can't be stopped,
Even without Doc I'm still from the (Streets of Compton),
Yeah ***** I said it, and I'ma stay on top,
Like a hoodrat with bomb ass cock,
Run up in 'em like these rap *****z, I ain't gotta clap *****z,
End your career with one line like that *****z,
Hit the switch front and back, make it bounce,
Let it jump, Killa-for-ni-a is where I'm from,
3 wheelin' with the ass out, smoke chronic 'til I pass out,
All the way to my ***** Daz house,
He always gotta big bad bitch from Long Beach,
She a known freak and she gotta long reach,
She gon' touch it, suck it, fuck it, never back down,
'specially when Al Green in the background,
Now bitch hit the weed and turn that ass round,
It's time to bring back Chronic into Doggystyle,
Westcoast *****z still holdin' shit down,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Verse 2:]
I'm back on the cover of the Source and the XXL,
Floatin' all through the (Streets of Compton),
I got more bitches, more plaques, more beef, and more straps,
That's what the fuck I call "Gangsta rap",
I was the Aftermath remedy 'til friends turn enemies,
Streets kept me laced like bloods dipped in hennesse,
You *****z act like the Game can't roll 'em out,
One man show still sell a motherfucker out,
We know Dre still sell a motherfucker out,
'cus everybody here from the (Streets of Compton),
We got crip *****z, blood *****z, assays, asians,
Red and blue laces, tattoos on faces,
I kept you *****z waiting had to take you back to the basics,
Switch the Impala from gold to chrome Daitons,
Everytime your bitch hear my voice she masturbating,
I run though hoes like Walter Payton on the daily,
I got your main bitch swallowing my babies,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
I'm the Westcoast Rakim, got you *****z blocked in,
Glass house parked sideways on the stock rims,
New school, old school mentality,
Translation - Four pumps and twelve batteries,
Hydraulics make the world go round,
Your girl go down, chronic make your girl slow down,
For she end up like superhead, giving superhead,
Every ***** in the industry now fuck superhead,
And I might just fuck her too,
If I ever catch her sliding or riding through the (Streets of Compton),
Rolling down Green Leaf smoking on that green leaf,
With a Mac 10 like I was born on Queen's Street,
Murder MCs like I was born in Queen's Bridge,
That how I show you palm *****z where the King is,
And you don't wanna play chess on a time clock,
I'm in the Hall Of Fame next to Snoop, behind 'Pac,
I got the whole motherfucking world locked,
[Chorus: (The Game)]
I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)
[Outro:]
Everybody wanna know what the fuck is going on,
Am I signed to Aftermath? Interscope? What's up with Geffen?
I'ma just say it like this:
One day I walked in the motherfuckin' house,
And all my shit was gone.
It's Ok (One Blood) lyrics - The Game
Dre, I see dead people
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
Yo, Dre
Thought I was Dead
West coast
One blood [x4]
[Verse 1]
I'm the Doctor's Advocate, nigga dre shot ya
Brought me back from the dead, that's why they call him the doctor
The (after)'math don't drop them
And 50 ain't rockin' with him
No more, IT'S OKAY, I get it poppin'
Whole club rockin'
Like a '64 impala
Drink Cris, throw it up
Call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in the cup
Call the shit hypnotic
I bleed Compton
Spit crack and shit chronic
And you new niggas ain't shit
But new niggas
Bathing Ape shoe niggas
I'm talkin' to you, nigga
Bouncin' in the '64 throwin' up West side, man
Sellin' another 5 million albums, YES I AM
Fresh like damn
This nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck, L.A. above the brim
Inside the lambo (rghini) in the shotgun with Snoop
What would the motherfuckin' West coast be without one crip and (one Blood)
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
[Verse 2]
I'm from the West side of the '64 Impala
Where niggas say "Where you from" we'll never say "Holla"
Bandanna on the right side
Gun on the left side
Niggas in New York, know how to throw up the West side
Word to Eazy
I'm so ill, believe me
I made room for Jeezy
But the rest of you niggas better be glad you breathin'
All i need is one reason
I'm the king, and Dre said the West coast need me
I don't know why you niggas keep tryin' me
Everybody knows I'm the heir to the Aftermath dynasty
And I ain't gotta make shit for the club
What DJ gonna turn down the .38 snub?
You 38 and you still rappin' uh
I'm 26 nigga, so is the dubs
On the '07 Hummer
Hop out with no bodyguards
When the chronic smoke clear all you see is (one Blood)
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
[Verse 3]
I ain't got beef with 50, no beef with Jay
What's beef when you gettin' head in the 6-tray?
And the double game chain, I keep 'em on display
Black T-shirt, so all you see is the A (aftermath)
Turn on the TV, and all you see is the A (aftermath)
You niggas better make up a dance and try to get radio play
Keep on snappin' your fingers, I ain't going away
I don't regret what I spit, cause I know what I say
And niggas keep talkin' about me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuitton belt buckle, holdin' the glock
No beam, no silencer, I know when to pop
Wait 'til Lil' Jon come on and left off a shot
I have the number 1 billboard spot
Niggas stepped on my fingers, and I climb right back to the top
I'm BIG, I'm Cube, I'm NaS, I'm 'Pac
This ain't shit but a warnin' 'til my album drop
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x8]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
Yo, Dre
Thought I was Dead
West coast
One blood [x4]
[Verse 1]
I'm the Doctor's Advocate, nigga dre shot ya
Brought me back from the dead, that's why they call him the doctor
The (after)'math don't drop them
And 50 ain't rockin' with him
No more, IT'S OKAY, I get it poppin'
Whole club rockin'
Like a '64 impala
Drink Cris, throw it up
Call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in the cup
Call the shit hypnotic
I bleed Compton
Spit crack and shit chronic
And you new niggas ain't shit
But new niggas
Bathing Ape shoe niggas
I'm talkin' to you, nigga
Bouncin' in the '64 throwin' up West side, man
Sellin' another 5 million albums, YES I AM
Fresh like damn
This nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck, L.A. above the brim
Inside the lambo (rghini) in the shotgun with Snoop
What would the motherfuckin' West coast be without one crip and (one Blood)
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
[Verse 2]
I'm from the West side of the '64 Impala
Where niggas say "Where you from" we'll never say "Holla"
Bandanna on the right side
Gun on the left side
Niggas in New York, know how to throw up the West side
Word to Eazy
I'm so ill, believe me
I made room for Jeezy
But the rest of you niggas better be glad you breathin'
All i need is one reason
I'm the king, and Dre said the West coast need me
I don't know why you niggas keep tryin' me
Everybody knows I'm the heir to the Aftermath dynasty
And I ain't gotta make shit for the club
What DJ gonna turn down the .38 snub?
You 38 and you still rappin' uh
I'm 26 nigga, so is the dubs
On the '07 Hummer
Hop out with no bodyguards
When the chronic smoke clear all you see is (one Blood)
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
[Verse 3]
I ain't got beef with 50, no beef with Jay
What's beef when you gettin' head in the 6-tray?
And the double game chain, I keep 'em on display
Black T-shirt, so all you see is the A (aftermath)
Turn on the TV, and all you see is the A (aftermath)
You niggas better make up a dance and try to get radio play
Keep on snappin' your fingers, I ain't going away
I don't regret what I spit, cause I know what I say
And niggas keep talkin' about me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuitton belt buckle, holdin' the glock
No beam, no silencer, I know when to pop
Wait 'til Lil' Jon come on and left off a shot
I have the number 1 billboard spot
Niggas stepped on my fingers, and I climb right back to the top
I'm BIG, I'm Cube, I'm NaS, I'm 'Pac
This ain't shit but a warnin' 'til my album drop
[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x8]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]
Compton lyrics - The Game
{"Gangsta boogie, gangsta boogie! Gangsta boogie.."}
Nigga nigga nigga I'm from
[Chorus]
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
Where the cops is crooked, and them bitches is killin
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas, where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"} - nigga nigga nigga I'm from (Compton)
[The Game]
Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires
Hip-Hop on lock like some muh'fuckin pliers
Me and Will.I.Am yeah we take niggaz higher
Niggaz talkin shit get your fuckin mouth wired
Walkin through Compton, Eazy still alive
Raider hat to the back throw your dubs in the sky
My flowetry wicked, sit back while I kick it
And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it
I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick
from a ese, nigga I could write an essay
About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin
In they Che-vys with a bitch ridin shotgun reppin L.A.
Crips, Bloods, homes goin loco
My glock to me, is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo
Sittin in a low-low, on chrome spinners
Nobody drop nuttin this winter, nigga I'm from
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Nigga I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed
since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin, "We All in the Same Gang"
Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gangbang
I do both cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin West coast
Kick the door open, Will let's go
Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best yo
Hard like Timbos, blowin on indo
Niggaz try to play me get stretched out like a limo
I was shoppin crack when Dre was bangin my demo
And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O.
Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk
Can I get a moment of silence Will bang the instrumental
.. I spit for my niggaz in the line-up
that'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up
First album sold 'em out, Impalas rolled 'em out
Cause the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about
[Chorus - 2X]
[The Game]
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas
Fans got us in-the-scope/Interscope, like Jimmy Iovine
Cause we (Ruthless), like Will before the (Black Eyed Peas)
Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see
I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV
Nigga get another job, hip-hop is not hirin
I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin
I just might put out "Detox" myself
Smoke so much, I check in detox myself
One man army, took out Reeboks myself
Fortyfive in my khakis gotta watch my health
I'm so hard nigga, glock 17 quick draw nigga
Like the old me, 17, sippin malt liquor
All black khaki suit, all black Converse
Nigga I'ma keep on stompin comin (Straight Outta)
[Chorus - 2X]
Nigga nigga nigga I'm from
[Chorus]
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
Where the cops is crooked, and them bitches is killin
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas, where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"} - nigga nigga nigga I'm from (Compton)
[The Game]
Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires
Hip-Hop on lock like some muh'fuckin pliers
Me and Will.I.Am yeah we take niggaz higher
Niggaz talkin shit get your fuckin mouth wired
Walkin through Compton, Eazy still alive
Raider hat to the back throw your dubs in the sky
My flowetry wicked, sit back while I kick it
And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it
I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick
from a ese, nigga I could write an essay
About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin
In they Che-vys with a bitch ridin shotgun reppin L.A.
Crips, Bloods, homes goin loco
My glock to me, is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo
Sittin in a low-low, on chrome spinners
Nobody drop nuttin this winter, nigga I'm from
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Nigga I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed
since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin, "We All in the Same Gang"
Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gangbang
I do both cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin West coast
Kick the door open, Will let's go
Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best yo
Hard like Timbos, blowin on indo
Niggaz try to play me get stretched out like a limo
I was shoppin crack when Dre was bangin my demo
And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O.
Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk
Can I get a moment of silence Will bang the instrumental
.. I spit for my niggaz in the line-up
that'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up
First album sold 'em out, Impalas rolled 'em out
Cause the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about
[Chorus - 2X]
[The Game]
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas
Fans got us in-the-scope/Interscope, like Jimmy Iovine
Cause we (Ruthless), like Will before the (Black Eyed Peas)
Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see
I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV
Nigga get another job, hip-hop is not hirin
I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin
I just might put out "Detox" myself
Smoke so much, I check in detox myself
One man army, took out Reeboks myself
Fortyfive in my khakis gotta watch my health
I'm so hard nigga, glock 17 quick draw nigga
Like the old me, 17, sippin malt liquor
All black khaki suit, all black Converse
Nigga I'ma keep on stompin comin (Straight Outta)
[Chorus - 2X]
Remedy lyrics - The Game
[The Game]
As my, Daytons spin, lowrider sittin low
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-fo', Henny in the passenger side
Smokin chronic just (Let Me Ride)
You would do it if my name was Dre, second comin motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of L.A.
I'm known for makin bitches take they clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton, California I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball
Fuck the law!! Feedin my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, black and rich, I'm the (Public Enemy)
Ridin the bass drum, Just Blaze got the (Remedy)
[Chorus]
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
I got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Aftermath got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked
[The Game]
I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And starin at that Hollywood sign'll get you straight jacked
(Where you from fool?) Better say you pro-black
Causin walkin in Roscoe's wit'cha chain hangin
is like Giuliani tryin to get rid of the gangbaners
Now that 'Pac passed, tryin to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doin mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped (Cop Killer)
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper wit'cha life in his hand
Even the toughest niggaz run when my gun go... blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now let me see your motherfuckin hands
[Chorus]
[The Game]
I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on the cherry red six-fo'
Niggaz endin they careers tryin to shut me up
Actin like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast still dippin
Game still Bloodin, and Snoop still Crippin
So what you sayin loc? Red and blue bandana
tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinnin like the hundred spokes
Three wheelin through the neighborhood
System on blast, as the motherfuckin one-time pass
The key to drivebys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfuckin confetti
When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes, (Parental Discretion Iz Advised)
As my, Daytons spin, lowrider sittin low
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-fo', Henny in the passenger side
Smokin chronic just (Let Me Ride)
You would do it if my name was Dre, second comin motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of L.A.
I'm known for makin bitches take they clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton, California I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball
Fuck the law!! Feedin my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, black and rich, I'm the (Public Enemy)
Ridin the bass drum, Just Blaze got the (Remedy)
[Chorus]
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
I got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Aftermath got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked
[The Game]
I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And starin at that Hollywood sign'll get you straight jacked
(Where you from fool?) Better say you pro-black
Causin walkin in Roscoe's wit'cha chain hangin
is like Giuliani tryin to get rid of the gangbaners
Now that 'Pac passed, tryin to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doin mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped (Cop Killer)
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper wit'cha life in his hand
Even the toughest niggaz run when my gun go... blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now let me see your motherfuckin hands
[Chorus]
[The Game]
I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on the cherry red six-fo'
Niggaz endin they careers tryin to shut me up
Actin like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast still dippin
Game still Bloodin, and Snoop still Crippin
So what you sayin loc? Red and blue bandana
tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinnin like the hundred spokes
Three wheelin through the neighborhood
System on blast, as the motherfuckin one-time pass
The key to drivebys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfuckin confetti
When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes, (Parental Discretion Iz Advised)
Let's Ride lyrics - The Game
[Verse 1]
Pull the rag off the six-fo',
Hit the switch, show niggas how the shit go,
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone,
The D's is chrome, the frame is black.
(So watch it lift up)
Till the motherfucker bounce and break,
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate.
Let the games begin,
These other rap niggas so far behind me, go taste my rims,
Shit, let the chronic burn as the datens spin.
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem,
In the club, poppin' X pills like M & Ms,
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', bitch bring a friend.
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round,
And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down.
(Put your 'cris up!)
If you feel the same way,
Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at,
Where the bitches at,
You fucking on the first night, meet me in the back.
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks,
Move bitch! Who the fuck you think they came to see?
The protégé of the D R E,
You take a picture with him, and you gotta fuck me,
And you gotta fuck Busta, can't touch Eve,
Got something in my waist that you can't touch either,
That's - my gangsta bitch, and like Crips and Bloods,
I'm in the club on some gangsta shit.
(So nigga twist up)
Light another dub,
Bitches get scared when niggas start fighting in the club.
Ain't nothing but a g-thing, baby it's a g-thing,
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string,
I fuck a different bitch seven days a week,
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat.
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 3]
Niggas thought I wasn't coming back, look at me now
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the motherfucking top down,
I'm The Game, nigga
Call your bitch, she ain't home, she with Game, nigga
Remember that, Dre
You passed me the torch, I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray,
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the ass scrapes,
Turn sunset into a motherfucking drag-race.
Now watch it bounce,
Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the shit down.
(When you hit the club)
Tell 'em you came with me,
(We gonna twist up)
In the V.I.P.
It's a new day, and if you ever knew Dre,
Motherfucker, you would say I was the new Dre.
Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke.
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
Pull the rag off the six-fo',
Hit the switch, show niggas how the shit go,
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone,
The D's is chrome, the frame is black.
(So watch it lift up)
Till the motherfucker bounce and break,
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate.
Let the games begin,
These other rap niggas so far behind me, go taste my rims,
Shit, let the chronic burn as the datens spin.
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem,
In the club, poppin' X pills like M & Ms,
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', bitch bring a friend.
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round,
And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down.
(Put your 'cris up!)
If you feel the same way,
Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at,
Where the bitches at,
You fucking on the first night, meet me in the back.
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks,
Move bitch! Who the fuck you think they came to see?
The protégé of the D R E,
You take a picture with him, and you gotta fuck me,
And you gotta fuck Busta, can't touch Eve,
Got something in my waist that you can't touch either,
That's - my gangsta bitch, and like Crips and Bloods,
I'm in the club on some gangsta shit.
(So nigga twist up)
Light another dub,
Bitches get scared when niggas start fighting in the club.
Ain't nothing but a g-thing, baby it's a g-thing,
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string,
I fuck a different bitch seven days a week,
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat.
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
[Verse 3]
Niggas thought I wasn't coming back, look at me now
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the motherfucking top down,
I'm The Game, nigga
Call your bitch, she ain't home, she with Game, nigga
Remember that, Dre
You passed me the torch, I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray,
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the ass scrapes,
Turn sunset into a motherfucking drag-race.
Now watch it bounce,
Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the shit down.
(When you hit the club)
Tell 'em you came with me,
(We gonna twist up)
In the V.I.P.
It's a new day, and if you ever knew Dre,
Motherfucker, you would say I was the new Dre.
Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke.
[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath
Too Much lyrics - The Game (feat. Nate Dogg)
[The Game]
I'm from the old hood, somethin like yo' hood
Where niggaz don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the 80's
So that mean, me Kanyeezy and Jeezy all crack babies
And it's evident my flow is heaven-sent
First LP, on the same shelf as the veterans
Nigga I can't be fucked, like a lesbian
I'm to hip-hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
Nate ridin with me, Snoop ridin with me
All you other niggaz used to be good like Ken Griffey
I'm on fire like the tip of a blunt
On fire like a nigga that let it drip for a month
I'm a Blood, you can Crip if you want, just let it bump
like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One: The Game]
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many bitches in the world not to fuck
Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
[Chorus Two: Nate Dogg]
You look like you mad as fuck, but who cares?
Grabbin her by the arm, cause she stare
Don't know how much atten-tion you pay
You better be ready to die, in this game
[The Game]
I thought I told y'all
I'm done with the beef clown, my son three now
And I've been watchin Dre so long I'm makin beats now
Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
I mean Chi-Town, fuck it it can go down
Nigga I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo'-pound
Nigga this the wild wild West, call it a showdown
And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
I come back from the dead, tell 'em kill me again
Put my head on the barrel, dare a nigga to shoot me
I'm gangsta, took more shots than Tookie
I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
Roll a California blunt and keep watchin the movie
Inspired by this gangbangin shit since I was two
I brought the West coast back, what the fuck you do?
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One + Chorus Two]
[The Game]
Drive fast, both hands on the dash
Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
Roll the fuckin windows down, let the bass out
Niggaz - drop the top on whatever in
Bitches - let your ponytail blow in the wind
Inhale the chronic, blow out dollar signs
Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome fo'-five under my hood
So if I die, nigga bury me under my hood
Who had the hottest bitch in the game, wearin they chain
Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em "The Documentary" and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
I can not, will not ever be replaced
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One + Chorus Two]
[Nate Dogg]
He wolfin a lot of shit, he look scared
You can't find your girl, she right here
I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
'Sides there's way too many hoes in here
I'm from the old hood, somethin like yo' hood
Where niggaz don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the 80's
So that mean, me Kanyeezy and Jeezy all crack babies
And it's evident my flow is heaven-sent
First LP, on the same shelf as the veterans
Nigga I can't be fucked, like a lesbian
I'm to hip-hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
Nate ridin with me, Snoop ridin with me
All you other niggaz used to be good like Ken Griffey
I'm on fire like the tip of a blunt
On fire like a nigga that let it drip for a month
I'm a Blood, you can Crip if you want, just let it bump
like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One: The Game]
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many bitches in the world not to fuck
Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump
[Chorus Two: Nate Dogg]
You look like you mad as fuck, but who cares?
Grabbin her by the arm, cause she stare
Don't know how much atten-tion you pay
You better be ready to die, in this game
[The Game]
I thought I told y'all
I'm done with the beef clown, my son three now
And I've been watchin Dre so long I'm makin beats now
Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
I mean Chi-Town, fuck it it can go down
Nigga I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo'-pound
Nigga this the wild wild West, call it a showdown
And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
I come back from the dead, tell 'em kill me again
Put my head on the barrel, dare a nigga to shoot me
I'm gangsta, took more shots than Tookie
I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
Roll a California blunt and keep watchin the movie
Inspired by this gangbangin shit since I was two
I brought the West coast back, what the fuck you do?
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One + Chorus Two]
[The Game]
Drive fast, both hands on the dash
Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
Roll the fuckin windows down, let the bass out
Niggaz - drop the top on whatever in
Bitches - let your ponytail blow in the wind
Inhale the chronic, blow out dollar signs
Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome fo'-five under my hood
So if I die, nigga bury me under my hood
Who had the hottest bitch in the game, wearin they chain
Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em "The Documentary" and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
I can not, will not ever be replaced
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man
[Chorus One + Chorus Two]
[Nate Dogg]
He wolfin a lot of shit, he look scared
You can't find your girl, she right here
I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
'Sides there's way too many hoes in here
Wouldn't Get Far lyrics - The Game (feat. Kanye West)
[Intro: samples from "I'd Find You Anywhere"]
For you baby, I'd find you [4X]
You wouldn't get far
[The Game]
I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that fucked Biggie and 'Pac
Like Vida Guerrera, ass took her to the top
She'll give you some brains you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she'll throw you some cock
Picture that like Meagan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said it's a wrap, she still on the set
Putting oil on her likes like she Gloria Velez
She was (Eye Candy) in the XXL
Hopped off the page and on a skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she {"wouldn't get far"} cause five hundred dollars
can't get you that {"far"} how you get that {"far"}
And all these new video bitches trying to be Melissa Ford
But they don't know Melissa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind closed doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards
Ha ha
[Chorus: The Game]
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
{"You wouldn't get far"} If you kept your legs closed
{"It would be just a waste of time"} But you know
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
{"For you baby, I'd find you"} For you
And you, for alla y'all
[Kanye West]
For you... uhh..
Pop quiz, how many topless, black foxes
did I have under my belt, like boxers
Not to brag but, if it add up
One, two, nigga that's mad nuts
Game you mad nuts, how you gon' call out all these
bitches knowing damn well they gon' call me?
The only dream, of that ghetto prom queen
was to make it to the screen, maybe get seen
Maybe get chose by a nigga from my team
Head so good he don't ask for a pre.. nup
Now ask yourself this question, umm
Would you be with Jay-Z if he wasn't C-E-O
Would you be with F-A-B-O if he drove a Neo
Would you ride with Ne-Yo, if he was in a Geo
Well why the hell you think these bitches coming at me fo'?
But since they all fall in my palm, I take a trio
Yo
[Chorus - sub "mouth closed" for "legs closed"]
[The Game]
I done had my share of bitches with long hair
Short doo like Kalissa, Halle in "Boomerang" yeah
I been around the block in the Bentley drop top
In Miami Beach when Lil' Kim was fucking with Scott
I got the scoop on Hoops, whatever the case
She'll let you spray in her face long as she Bathing Apes
And ain't nobody trying to take Beyonce from Jay
But I know a bitch named Superhead he fucked back in the day
The things niggaz do when pussy sitting on they face
Stabbed Un in the stomach
She must have had a pussy like Wonder Woman, on that superhero shit
Fly as Gabrielle Union in the back of my six, fo'
Impala, forget the double D's
I put 'em right in your face like that model bitch Takara
And she ain't win the show but she riding in that Gallardo
That's why I fuck 'em today and forget 'em tomorrow
[Chorus]
[The Game]
God damn! Y'knahmsayin?
I'm sitting back watching Kanye video
And I see the same bitch that was in the homeboy Busta Rhymes video
Then I flip the muh'fuckin channel
Checking out my uncle Snoop Dogg video
And I see the same BITCH, that was in my video! Y'knowhatI'msayin?
And then y'knahmsayin, to make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watching Oprah cover Hurricane Katrina
I see the same bitch on Oprah, floating away on the hood of a Camry
That was in the nigga Lil Weezy video!
I mean DAMN! Everywhere I look
Everywhere I go I see the same hoes
Don't get mad, I'm only being real
Yeah
For you baby, I'd find you [4X]
You wouldn't get far
[The Game]
I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that fucked Biggie and 'Pac
Like Vida Guerrera, ass took her to the top
She'll give you some brains you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she'll throw you some cock
Picture that like Meagan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said it's a wrap, she still on the set
Putting oil on her likes like she Gloria Velez
She was (Eye Candy) in the XXL
Hopped off the page and on a skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she {"wouldn't get far"} cause five hundred dollars
can't get you that {"far"} how you get that {"far"}
And all these new video bitches trying to be Melissa Ford
But they don't know Melissa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind closed doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards
Ha ha
[Chorus: The Game]
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
{"You wouldn't get far"} If you kept your legs closed
{"It would be just a waste of time"} But you know
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
{"For you baby, I'd find you"} For you
And you, for alla y'all
[Kanye West]
For you... uhh..
Pop quiz, how many topless, black foxes
did I have under my belt, like boxers
Not to brag but, if it add up
One, two, nigga that's mad nuts
Game you mad nuts, how you gon' call out all these
bitches knowing damn well they gon' call me?
The only dream, of that ghetto prom queen
was to make it to the screen, maybe get seen
Maybe get chose by a nigga from my team
Head so good he don't ask for a pre.. nup
Now ask yourself this question, umm
Would you be with Jay-Z if he wasn't C-E-O
Would you be with F-A-B-O if he drove a Neo
Would you ride with Ne-Yo, if he was in a Geo
Well why the hell you think these bitches coming at me fo'?
But since they all fall in my palm, I take a trio
Yo
[Chorus - sub "mouth closed" for "legs closed"]
[The Game]
I done had my share of bitches with long hair
Short doo like Kalissa, Halle in "Boomerang" yeah
I been around the block in the Bentley drop top
In Miami Beach when Lil' Kim was fucking with Scott
I got the scoop on Hoops, whatever the case
She'll let you spray in her face long as she Bathing Apes
And ain't nobody trying to take Beyonce from Jay
But I know a bitch named Superhead he fucked back in the day
The things niggaz do when pussy sitting on they face
Stabbed Un in the stomach
She must have had a pussy like Wonder Woman, on that superhero shit
Fly as Gabrielle Union in the back of my six, fo'
Impala, forget the double D's
I put 'em right in your face like that model bitch Takara
And she ain't win the show but she riding in that Gallardo
That's why I fuck 'em today and forget 'em tomorrow
[Chorus]
[The Game]
God damn! Y'knahmsayin?
I'm sitting back watching Kanye video
And I see the same bitch that was in the homeboy Busta Rhymes video
Then I flip the muh'fuckin channel
Checking out my uncle Snoop Dogg video
And I see the same BITCH, that was in my video! Y'knowhatI'msayin?
And then y'knahmsayin, to make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watching Oprah cover Hurricane Katrina
I see the same bitch on Oprah, floating away on the hood of a Camry
That was in the nigga Lil Weezy video!
I mean DAMN! Everywhere I look
Everywhere I go I see the same hoes
Don't get mad, I'm only being real
Yeah
Scream On Em lyrics - The Game (feat. Swizz Beatz)
[Swizz Beatz]
Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)
C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!
[The Game]
Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job
not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil
See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo'
Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe
Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so
I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain
And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz
Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!
[The Game]
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down
Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound
And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks
West coast niggaz is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I body a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz
I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz
Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga
Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga
Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway
(Boyz N The Hood) 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai
Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?
[Chorus]
[The Game]
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer
One man show cause I fucked all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean... mean... rappin machine
Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary
I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin
No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin
Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin
Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin
They should build me an office up under the buildin
My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga
[Chorus]
[Swizz Beatz]
We in the motherfuckin buildin man
You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right?
You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga
It is what the fuck it is man
How y'all wanna cut the cake?
You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga
Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster
Game is in the motherfuckin buildin
We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga
Bitch!
Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)
C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!
[The Game]
Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job
not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil
See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo'
Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe
Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so
I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain
And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz
Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!
[The Game]
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down
Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound
And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks
West coast niggaz is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I body a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz
I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz
Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga
Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga
Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway
(Boyz N The Hood) 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai
Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?
[Chorus]
[The Game]
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer
One man show cause I fucked all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean... mean... rappin machine
Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary
I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin
No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin
Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin
Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin
They should build me an office up under the buildin
My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga
[Chorus]
[Swizz Beatz]
We in the motherfuckin buildin man
You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right?
You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga
It is what the fuck it is man
How y'all wanna cut the cake?
You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga
Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster
Game is in the motherfuckin buildin
We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga
Bitch!
One Night lyrics - The Game (feat. Andrea Martin)
[Chorus: Andrea Martin]
I only fuck with you, on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke, if I would be with you
That is why it's for one night
[The Game]
I'm a motherfucking gangbangin nightmare, wake up motherfuckers
I traded in my white Nike Airs
For a rare pair of Converse, back to the hood
My own niggas acting like I turned my back on the hood
I used my rap money to put crack in the hood
Even brought the nigga Dr. Dre back to the hood
I showed niggas the Bentley then let you drive it
Gone for two days and I ain't even check the mileage
When we was fighting with Crips it wasn't about no dollars
It was about selling dope to put our kids through college
I'm sittin on the block, reminiscing for hours
Wiping my tears cause now half of my niggas is cowards
And I was still fucking with niggas, after I got shot
and didn't get one hospital visit
My homey Snoop told me it'd be days like this
It hurt my heart, to say this shit
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
Red bandanna in my back pocket, I'm for real
This ain't a pastel color khaki suit, and I ain't Pharrell
I don't front about shit I pull my gun up out shit
And let everything fly to keep my son up outta this
I thought you loved me nigga, talk is cheap
Remember, the bulletholes in my son's car seat
My baby momma found four shells, I ain't get
one keep your head up, all I got was keep it real
Keep it real my niggas?
Last year alone I spent one point five mill' on my niggas
After the bullshit, I stayed right there
Took you to award shows, there go J right there
Where? Right there! I had all you niggas in suits
Cleaner than a pair of fresh Nike Airs
I'm supposed to enjoy this shit but it's quite clear
The last twelve months been a fucking nightmare
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
This shit worse than arguing with my bitch
I done been through mo' ups and downs, than the Impala switch
Get yo' hand out my pocket nigga, go fish
I was born by myself so I don't owe y'all shit
Nigga you tell me, what you want me to do
Drop my son off at home and come bang with you?
Oh now it's fuck Game, nah nigga fuck you
I put that on my life, matter fact, that's on Paru
And the reality is, I could die too
And end up in the cemetery, right beside you
We can both ride, angels flying over my head
Stoned but the devils inside yo' box
You wanted my shine so I gave you ice
Then I gave you a second chance and you played me twice
Couldn't be a real homeboy to save yo' life
I should've took Dr. Dre's advice
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[Outro - Andrea Martin]
Black Wall Street for life
Only fuck with you on two occasions
When I'm out of my mind, or when I'm high
I only, fuck with you...
I only fuck with you, on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke, if I would be with you
That is why it's for one night
[The Game]
I'm a motherfucking gangbangin nightmare, wake up motherfuckers
I traded in my white Nike Airs
For a rare pair of Converse, back to the hood
My own niggas acting like I turned my back on the hood
I used my rap money to put crack in the hood
Even brought the nigga Dr. Dre back to the hood
I showed niggas the Bentley then let you drive it
Gone for two days and I ain't even check the mileage
When we was fighting with Crips it wasn't about no dollars
It was about selling dope to put our kids through college
I'm sittin on the block, reminiscing for hours
Wiping my tears cause now half of my niggas is cowards
And I was still fucking with niggas, after I got shot
and didn't get one hospital visit
My homey Snoop told me it'd be days like this
It hurt my heart, to say this shit
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
Red bandanna in my back pocket, I'm for real
This ain't a pastel color khaki suit, and I ain't Pharrell
I don't front about shit I pull my gun up out shit
And let everything fly to keep my son up outta this
I thought you loved me nigga, talk is cheap
Remember, the bulletholes in my son's car seat
My baby momma found four shells, I ain't get
one keep your head up, all I got was keep it real
Keep it real my niggas?
Last year alone I spent one point five mill' on my niggas
After the bullshit, I stayed right there
Took you to award shows, there go J right there
Where? Right there! I had all you niggas in suits
Cleaner than a pair of fresh Nike Airs
I'm supposed to enjoy this shit but it's quite clear
The last twelve months been a fucking nightmare
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
This shit worse than arguing with my bitch
I done been through mo' ups and downs, than the Impala switch
Get yo' hand out my pocket nigga, go fish
I was born by myself so I don't owe y'all shit
Nigga you tell me, what you want me to do
Drop my son off at home and come bang with you?
Oh now it's fuck Game, nah nigga fuck you
I put that on my life, matter fact, that's on Paru
And the reality is, I could die too
And end up in the cemetery, right beside you
We can both ride, angels flying over my head
Stoned but the devils inside yo' box
You wanted my shine so I gave you ice
Then I gave you a second chance and you played me twice
Couldn't be a real homeboy to save yo' life
I should've took Dr. Dre's advice
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[Outro - Andrea Martin]
Black Wall Street for life
Only fuck with you on two occasions
When I'm out of my mind, or when I'm high
I only, fuck with you...
Doctor's Advocate lyrics - The Game (feat. Busta Rhymes)
[The Game]
Yo Bus, I think I got.... the answer to all my problems...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin' bout, n***a, what's that?
[The Game]
Belevedere... and Banana Snapple [hiccoughs]
[Busta Rhymes]
Look.... get your fuckin' ass up, n***a, you over here trippin' on yourself, n***a, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig!
[The Game]
I'm a man... and most of these n***as, they don't know how to be a man... I got a son...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin about, n***a, come on, n***a, let's take yo' ass to the crib, n***a, you tired, n***a. And put the drink down, n***a! We gotta go, n***a!
[The Game]
One more shot....
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[The Game]
[Verse 1]
Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you,
But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do,
Remember, I'm from Compton too,
I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits,
I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92,
I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you,
I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru,
Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice,
Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop,
Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots,
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you,
I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do.
If every n***a hated him, for that black bitch track,
And n***as stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped,
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[The Game]
[Verse 2]
I never said thank you, and I took it for granted,
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family,
Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes,
I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed,
And even though sometimes I run loose,
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you,
I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef,
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!',
Now it's my turn to carry the torch,
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source,
Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch?
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that!
Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques,
Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?'
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[Busta Rhymes]
[Verse 3]
See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger,
The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the n***a,
Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do,
But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you,
See when I first met my n***a, son was laying in the cut,
Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut,
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut,
I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck,
And as time went on, and he was working with the finest,
I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance,
You gave him something that could make or break a n***a you should face it,
So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it,
With the potential to be a strong n***a with conviction,
The only problem was our little n***a wouln't listen,
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like La, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, La, la, la...
[Busta Rhymes]
Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, n***a!
[The Game]
I'm up man, I'm up...
[Busta Rhymes]
We at your crib, n***a, get the fuck outta the car, n***a, get up, man!
[The Game]
This ain't my house... my house is.... is green!
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talk- look, come on, n***a, let's go man, let me walk you up to the... come on... n***a where the keys at, n***a we need to open your door, n***a!
[The Game]
I got love for you, Bus', you my n***a...
[Busta Rhymes]
Nig get in the fucking bed, n***a, go to sleep, n***a, you tired, n***a. And don't fucking drink like that no more, man, you fucking look like Ned the Wino, you drunk motherfucker...
[The Game]
Just goin to the studio...
[Busta Rhymes]
[Laughing] Go to sleep, n***a...
[8 Bar Verses]
Yo Bus, I think I got.... the answer to all my problems...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin' bout, n***a, what's that?
[The Game]
Belevedere... and Banana Snapple [hiccoughs]
[Busta Rhymes]
Look.... get your fuckin' ass up, n***a, you over here trippin' on yourself, n***a, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig!
[The Game]
I'm a man... and most of these n***as, they don't know how to be a man... I got a son...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin about, n***a, come on, n***a, let's take yo' ass to the crib, n***a, you tired, n***a. And put the drink down, n***a! We gotta go, n***a!
[The Game]
One more shot....
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[The Game]
[Verse 1]
Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you,
But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do,
Remember, I'm from Compton too,
I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits,
I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92,
I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you,
I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru,
Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice,
Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop,
Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots,
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you,
I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do.
If every n***a hated him, for that black bitch track,
And n***as stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped,
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[The Game]
[Verse 2]
I never said thank you, and I took it for granted,
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family,
Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes,
I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed,
And even though sometimes I run loose,
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you,
I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef,
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!',
Now it's my turn to carry the torch,
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source,
Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch?
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that!
Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques,
Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?'
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...
[Busta Rhymes]
[Verse 3]
See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger,
The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the n***a,
Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do,
But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you,
See when I first met my n***a, son was laying in the cut,
Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut,
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut,
I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck,
And as time went on, and he was working with the finest,
I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance,
You gave him something that could make or break a n***a you should face it,
So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it,
With the potential to be a strong n***a with conviction,
The only problem was our little n***a wouln't listen,
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!
[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like La, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, La, la, la...
[Busta Rhymes]
Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, n***a!
[The Game]
I'm up man, I'm up...
[Busta Rhymes]
We at your crib, n***a, get the fuck outta the car, n***a, get up, man!
[The Game]
This ain't my house... my house is.... is green!
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talk- look, come on, n***a, let's go man, let me walk you up to the... come on... n***a where the keys at, n***a we need to open your door, n***a!
[The Game]
I got love for you, Bus', you my n***a...
[Busta Rhymes]
Nig get in the fucking bed, n***a, go to sleep, n***a, you tired, n***a. And don't fucking drink like that no more, man, you fucking look like Ned the Wino, you drunk motherfucker...
[The Game]
Just goin to the studio...
[Busta Rhymes]
[Laughing] Go to sleep, n***a...
[8 Bar Verses]
Ol' English lyrics - The Game
[Chorus]
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Ridin' by gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied gangs signs Letters on my hat in
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Drive by homicide
R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die
Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
[Verse 1]
Once upon a time in the projects yo
I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo'
I washed it on Monday so he bought me a gold chain
Shopped crack and watched "Colors" and I soaked up game
Drove the Impala on his lap that was my role model
Used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle
On the weekend him and my pops flashed the 'Vette
'Til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death
He got murdered by a fiend my pops ain't like that
He was from Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac
Crazy ass nigga wit' a Black Panther tat
Kill a nigga cross him out on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older I would understand that
It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks
13 that's when I had my first
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
I was the first nigga wit' a Starter jacket on the block
Used to build model cars and let the motherfuckers hop
Moms banged Hoover Crip she was known for sellin' rocks
Let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot
Bought my first Converse thought I couldn't be stopped
When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott
Used to think that I was hard so I stole my brother's glock
And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot
Killed by another crip over his Rolex watch
I got high for three years off that Chronic from the Doc
I was drinkin' 40-ounces a lot
And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped
I start bangin' red laces in my Adidas
Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by
I was a menace to society
But I never left fingerprints on my
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
I got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip
This is life stop watchin' that "Boyz N The Hood" shit
You see this red rag hangin' out of my jeans?
I went to twenty funerals by the age of nineteen
Then I went to college basketball was my dream
Quit the team 'cause I rather shoot rock wit' the fiends
Wanted to be Freeway Rick
He showed me how to trun a stolen 5.0 into a brick
Bought a Cadillac thought I was rich bangin' DJ Quik
On Crenshaw got jacked for my shit
Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time
When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip
Hit my first switch same night fucked my first bitch
Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits
She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit
So I got her name tatted in
[Chorus]
Ol' English [x4]
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Ridin' by gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied gangs signs Letters on my hat in
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Drive by homicide
R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die
Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
[Verse 1]
Once upon a time in the projects yo
I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo'
I washed it on Monday so he bought me a gold chain
Shopped crack and watched "Colors" and I soaked up game
Drove the Impala on his lap that was my role model
Used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle
On the weekend him and my pops flashed the 'Vette
'Til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death
He got murdered by a fiend my pops ain't like that
He was from Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac
Crazy ass nigga wit' a Black Panther tat
Kill a nigga cross him out on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older I would understand that
It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks
13 that's when I had my first
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
I was the first nigga wit' a Starter jacket on the block
Used to build model cars and let the motherfuckers hop
Moms banged Hoover Crip she was known for sellin' rocks
Let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot
Bought my first Converse thought I couldn't be stopped
When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott
Used to think that I was hard so I stole my brother's glock
And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot
Killed by another crip over his Rolex watch
I got high for three years off that Chronic from the Doc
I was drinkin' 40-ounces a lot
And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped
I start bangin' red laces in my Adidas
Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by
I was a menace to society
But I never left fingerprints on my
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
I got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip
This is life stop watchin' that "Boyz N The Hood" shit
You see this red rag hangin' out of my jeans?
I went to twenty funerals by the age of nineteen
Then I went to college basketball was my dream
Quit the team 'cause I rather shoot rock wit' the fiends
Wanted to be Freeway Rick
He showed me how to trun a stolen 5.0 into a brick
Bought a Cadillac thought I was rich bangin' DJ Quik
On Crenshaw got jacked for my shit
Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time
When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip
Hit my first switch same night fucked my first bitch
Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits
She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit
So I got her name tatted in
[Chorus]
Ol' English [x4]
California Vacation lyrics - The Game
[Verse 1- The Game]
Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up nigga,
Sipping on Gin and Juice fill up your cups nigga,
The Westcoast back crackin' like it's 94',
So bitch get on your knees and give me head like it's 94',
And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop,
I'm the Doctors Advocate call it a sneak peak,
at the mudafukn Detox, take note grab a pen,
And let the world know the west is ridin' again,
I Graduated from Dre's school top of my class,
Treat my switches like my bitches got me dropping that ass,
Still bangin' the chronic like doggiestyle came with it,
And I roll a sticky on my bitch back while I hit it,
I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that,
5 million records on 1 plaque I hung that,
Still got Dr. Dre low ridin' in the 64',
When you see us, throw it up for the fukin' Westcoast.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.
[Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg]
Check game, im'a show you how to bang,
Uncle Snoopy is it true you from that money game,
All the time neph' I gotta let my nuts hang,
A chest full of chains a left han' wit' a pinky ring,
I'm in a steeler caps, Swisha Sweets peel em back,
My lil' hood rat, baby got that mini mack,
Baby got that 20 sack, baby got plenty that,
Whatever you send it's my nugga, we gonna send it back
I'm in the club, with the snub, getting' love,
with 20 thousand Crips and 20 thousand Bloods,
And we don't give a fuck about none of ya'll,
And when you hit the city, you better holla at the Big Dogg,
I done seen niggas hit LA and get dey chain snatched,
Then they call me up, beggin' me to get dey chain back,
What I look like the mudafukin Police,
It's certain rules you got to follow, when you in these streets,
Especially when it comes to this Cali shit,
And I ain't talkin' bout hangin' in the valley Bitch,
Gang bang niggas all up in the alley Crip,
On some real talk nigga we the real Westcoast.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.
[Verse 3 - Xzibit]
Damn, I heard blue rag niggas ain't fucking with the red rag niggas,
On the Westcoast (Fuck you mean),
shit from what I seen, red and blue can make green,
Black wallstreet and X-o-leen,
Since jealousy breeds hatred, hatred breeds violence,
Violence breeds enemies more permanent silence,
California alliance, is more important than ever so throw it up,
We low ridin' together (YEAH!)
Make the Westcoast rise forever, esse's B's and C's represent your letter,
Got Game the go getter, Xzibit the rhyme spitter, Snoop Dogg the boss,
We gangster at all costs, ya'll niggas is so soft and pussies so fuck off,
For one of my niggas draw that hammer and dump off,
This kush you gon' cough, (Cough, Cough)
Yeah inhale the smoke, Bandana hang,
Bang the coast my nigga.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast
Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up nigga,
Sipping on Gin and Juice fill up your cups nigga,
The Westcoast back crackin' like it's 94',
So bitch get on your knees and give me head like it's 94',
And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop,
I'm the Doctors Advocate call it a sneak peak,
at the mudafukn Detox, take note grab a pen,
And let the world know the west is ridin' again,
I Graduated from Dre's school top of my class,
Treat my switches like my bitches got me dropping that ass,
Still bangin' the chronic like doggiestyle came with it,
And I roll a sticky on my bitch back while I hit it,
I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that,
5 million records on 1 plaque I hung that,
Still got Dr. Dre low ridin' in the 64',
When you see us, throw it up for the fukin' Westcoast.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.
[Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg]
Check game, im'a show you how to bang,
Uncle Snoopy is it true you from that money game,
All the time neph' I gotta let my nuts hang,
A chest full of chains a left han' wit' a pinky ring,
I'm in a steeler caps, Swisha Sweets peel em back,
My lil' hood rat, baby got that mini mack,
Baby got that 20 sack, baby got plenty that,
Whatever you send it's my nugga, we gonna send it back
I'm in the club, with the snub, getting' love,
with 20 thousand Crips and 20 thousand Bloods,
And we don't give a fuck about none of ya'll,
And when you hit the city, you better holla at the Big Dogg,
I done seen niggas hit LA and get dey chain snatched,
Then they call me up, beggin' me to get dey chain back,
What I look like the mudafukin Police,
It's certain rules you got to follow, when you in these streets,
Especially when it comes to this Cali shit,
And I ain't talkin' bout hangin' in the valley Bitch,
Gang bang niggas all up in the alley Crip,
On some real talk nigga we the real Westcoast.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.
[Verse 3 - Xzibit]
Damn, I heard blue rag niggas ain't fucking with the red rag niggas,
On the Westcoast (Fuck you mean),
shit from what I seen, red and blue can make green,
Black wallstreet and X-o-leen,
Since jealousy breeds hatred, hatred breeds violence,
Violence breeds enemies more permanent silence,
California alliance, is more important than ever so throw it up,
We low ridin' together (YEAH!)
Make the Westcoast rise forever, esse's B's and C's represent your letter,
Got Game the go getter, Xzibit the rhyme spitter, Snoop Dogg the boss,
We gangster at all costs, ya'll niggas is so soft and pussies so fuck off,
For one of my niggas draw that hammer and dump off,
This kush you gon' cough, (Cough, Cough)
Yeah inhale the smoke, Bandana hang,
Bang the coast my nigga.
[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We pull the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast
Bang lyrics - The Game (feat. Daz, Kurupt)
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[The Game]
Gettin' my bang on, red strings on
Luis Vuitton kicks, Luis Vuitton frames on
Luis Vuitton belt holdin' the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside
[Daz]
This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas we love to sag, we cock it back and blast
Like booyaka-booyaka, we lay the party down
G-G-Game, Dogg Pound
[The Game]
Everybody get down
[Kurupt]
Look nigga... I nurture and breed
I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitches needs
And bitch niggaz try to invade our town
I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out
[The Game]
Say goodbye to the '6-4, hello to the '6-trey
He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face
Up, down - now watch my shit scrape
Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip Walk to get Dre
and Blood Bounce back, heat on the track
Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq
Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back
Like that (like that?) like that
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[Daz]
We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic
When I did it I must admit it, so nigga go and rep it
Lil' homies around her constantly on smash mode
Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole
Bang how we give it, the culture that we live in
Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison
Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree
N.W.A., Dr. D-R-E
[The Game]
We not S-T-A-R's, we don't put stars in our shoes
Bitch we put the whole car on the shoes
You don't wanna see my car on the news
I'll "Set It Off" like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina
[Kurupt]
Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic
Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass
It's hood niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it
Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute
Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at
Two milli macks, semi-automatic situational attack
In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black
Like this and like that
Bang, broken like glass and plastic
Bang out on him with the mask and plastic
We got access to massive plastiques
Purchased last week, D.P.G.C.
Bang
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[The Game (Kurupt)]
Here come them outta town niggaz, what up Blood?
(What up cuz? They don't even know what 2Pac first album was)
Should I tell 'em Blood? (Nah, fuck 'em loc)
Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes
(Dash, brake, bounce and scrape)
Run up on the '6-4, see the AK's
(Bang) like Eazy, (Bang) like Dre
(Bang) like Snoop, (Bang) in L.A.
(Bang) like Crips and Bloods
From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie get stripped in the club
Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club
You like ice creams? Get a banana split in the club
No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club
And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club
So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club
Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs
Remember that
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[The Game]
Gettin' my bang on, red strings on
Luis Vuitton kicks, Luis Vuitton frames on
Luis Vuitton belt holdin' the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside
[Daz]
This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas we love to sag, we cock it back and blast
Like booyaka-booyaka, we lay the party down
G-G-Game, Dogg Pound
[The Game]
Everybody get down
[Kurupt]
Look nigga... I nurture and breed
I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitches needs
And bitch niggaz try to invade our town
I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out
[The Game]
Say goodbye to the '6-4, hello to the '6-trey
He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face
Up, down - now watch my shit scrape
Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip Walk to get Dre
and Blood Bounce back, heat on the track
Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq
Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back
Like that (like that?) like that
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[Daz]
We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic
When I did it I must admit it, so nigga go and rep it
Lil' homies around her constantly on smash mode
Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole
Bang how we give it, the culture that we live in
Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison
Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree
N.W.A., Dr. D-R-E
[The Game]
We not S-T-A-R's, we don't put stars in our shoes
Bitch we put the whole car on the shoes
You don't wanna see my car on the news
I'll "Set It Off" like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina
[Kurupt]
Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic
Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass
It's hood niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it
Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute
Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at
Two milli macks, semi-automatic situational attack
In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black
Like this and like that
Bang, broken like glass and plastic
Bang out on him with the mask and plastic
We got access to massive plastiques
Purchased last week, D.P.G.C.
Bang
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
[The Game (Kurupt)]
Here come them outta town niggaz, what up Blood?
(What up cuz? They don't even know what 2Pac first album was)
Should I tell 'em Blood? (Nah, fuck 'em loc)
Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes
(Dash, brake, bounce and scrape)
Run up on the '6-4, see the AK's
(Bang) like Eazy, (Bang) like Dre
(Bang) like Snoop, (Bang) in L.A.
(Bang) like Crips and Bloods
From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie get stripped in the club
Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club
You like ice creams? Get a banana split in the club
No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club
And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club
So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club
Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs
Remember that
[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on
Around The World lyrics - The Game (feat. Jamie Foxx)
[Jamie Foxx]
Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah
[Chorus: Jamie Foxx]
I know you're sick and tired of waitin on me girl
But I'm, just tryin to get my money right
So let some dumb nigga take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed-out wheels
First class ticket, G-4, you that deal
For real (I can take you all around the world)
[The Game]
She like black Bentley Coupes, black Day-tons
Black interior, black ridin shotgun
Black fo'-five, black Air Ones
Bangin "The Black Album," track #1
She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite
If it's gon' get me the pussy I'ma play that shit
If she bite too hard, I'ma say that shit
But don't bite me bitch, I don't play that shit
Marques Houston, I don't play that shit
By the time we got halfway through watchin "Ray" I hit
I laid it down beat it up, let her go clean it up
Take a five minute nap, wake up and eat it, what
The it's part two, in the sauna
Feel like I'm fuckin Mary J. cause she don't want, +No Drama+
I'd rather take yo' ass to the Bahamas
Then give you 30 thousand a month like Diddy baby mama
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Picture me thuggin, picture me lovin you
like Bobby love Whitney now picture me fuckin
Pullin your ponytail smackin you on the ass
Tellin you how (I can take you all around the world)
That nigga can't do it like this
Even Beyonce couldn't move it like this
She only fuck with +Soldiers+, that's her shit
I hate to admit it but I love my bitch
So much, I'm sittin outside in the Benz
Thinkin back to Dre's house when I fucked her best friend
The pussy wasn't nothin; now I'm dealin
with +The Diary of a Mad Black Woman+ with Louis Vuitton luggage
She told me she was tired of The Game and rap
Quit like Ma$e then she came right back
I told you the bitch sex was wack
And you're all I need, even Jamie know that
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
You know what they say, more money more problems more drama
means more marijuana and less baby mama
You know I love you like I love my shoes
But even white Air Force Ones come in twos
Yeah, I like her, and I like you too
What's wrong? She my bitch and you my boo
She got a Range Rover Sport, you got a Bentley Coupe
She take my clothes to the cleaners, you take Harlem to school
I gave you your Burkin bags, so I made a mistake
And Oprah don't fuck with them no more anyway
I'm sorry for the bullshit I put you through
But I ain't goin nowhere, I got a kid wit'chu
Why we always gotta argue about Superhead's book?
She sucked my dick with a condom on, after that I shook
And when she start talkin 'bout buyin a ring
I just turn the volume up and let Jamie Foxx sing
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[Jamie Foxx]
Around the world with me yeah
Around the world with me, ayy
Around the world with me, hey
Mmm, ohh
Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah
[Chorus: Jamie Foxx]
I know you're sick and tired of waitin on me girl
But I'm, just tryin to get my money right
So let some dumb nigga take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed-out wheels
First class ticket, G-4, you that deal
For real (I can take you all around the world)
[The Game]
She like black Bentley Coupes, black Day-tons
Black interior, black ridin shotgun
Black fo'-five, black Air Ones
Bangin "The Black Album," track #1
She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite
If it's gon' get me the pussy I'ma play that shit
If she bite too hard, I'ma say that shit
But don't bite me bitch, I don't play that shit
Marques Houston, I don't play that shit
By the time we got halfway through watchin "Ray" I hit
I laid it down beat it up, let her go clean it up
Take a five minute nap, wake up and eat it, what
The it's part two, in the sauna
Feel like I'm fuckin Mary J. cause she don't want, +No Drama+
I'd rather take yo' ass to the Bahamas
Then give you 30 thousand a month like Diddy baby mama
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Picture me thuggin, picture me lovin you
like Bobby love Whitney now picture me fuckin
Pullin your ponytail smackin you on the ass
Tellin you how (I can take you all around the world)
That nigga can't do it like this
Even Beyonce couldn't move it like this
She only fuck with +Soldiers+, that's her shit
I hate to admit it but I love my bitch
So much, I'm sittin outside in the Benz
Thinkin back to Dre's house when I fucked her best friend
The pussy wasn't nothin; now I'm dealin
with +The Diary of a Mad Black Woman+ with Louis Vuitton luggage
She told me she was tired of The Game and rap
Quit like Ma$e then she came right back
I told you the bitch sex was wack
And you're all I need, even Jamie know that
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[The Game]
You know what they say, more money more problems more drama
means more marijuana and less baby mama
You know I love you like I love my shoes
But even white Air Force Ones come in twos
Yeah, I like her, and I like you too
What's wrong? She my bitch and you my boo
She got a Range Rover Sport, you got a Bentley Coupe
She take my clothes to the cleaners, you take Harlem to school
I gave you your Burkin bags, so I made a mistake
And Oprah don't fuck with them no more anyway
I'm sorry for the bullshit I put you through
But I ain't goin nowhere, I got a kid wit'chu
Why we always gotta argue about Superhead's book?
She sucked my dick with a condom on, after that I shook
And when she start talkin 'bout buyin a ring
I just turn the volume up and let Jamie Foxx sing
[Chorus w/ ad libs]
[Jamie Foxx]
Around the world with me yeah
Around the world with me, ayy
Around the world with me, hey
Mmm, ohh
Why You Hate The Game lyrics - The Game (feat. Nas)
[Nas:]
Y'all know what it is...
The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it..
Can't hate us....
Fellas...
Vice behind me on the intersection,
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection,
Dress superb, admired by conspirers,
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up,
Child of the eighties, y'all niggas is lazy,
Complain about labour pains, nigga show me the baby,
And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle,
Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles,
Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin',
Witnessin' you rockin' [?] with Nas, confirmed my suspicion,
Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for 'em,
I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it,
And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich,
And still I don't abort 'em [?] when and if they sink quick,
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge,
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live...
(8 Bars... kind of)
[The Game:]
I don't talk about my guns, nigga I just blaze....
'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin',
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin',
To every nigga listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening.
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole,
Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble,
15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo',
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle,
I rekindled the flame,
Dre created The Game,
nigga with an attitude from the cloth I came,
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain.
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted,
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it,
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it.
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, Nigga
(8 Bars)
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me,
How you gon' pass the dutchie [?] to them niggas that don't love me,
I'm talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top,
Same niggas that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not,
I'll fuck you rap niggas like virgins,
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains.
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers,
The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career,
The ending of yours, the endin of his,
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz,
N*gga, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line,
Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines,
And I still think about my nigga from time to time,
Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind,
But I just hold back cuz we ain't beefin like that,
He aint Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin off rap.
One love.
(8 Bars)
I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless.
I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though.
Y'all know what it is...
The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it..
Can't hate us....
Fellas...
Vice behind me on the intersection,
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection,
Dress superb, admired by conspirers,
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up,
Child of the eighties, y'all niggas is lazy,
Complain about labour pains, nigga show me the baby,
And my nigga Game, light another L, pass the bottle,
Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles,
Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin',
Witnessin' you rockin' [?] with Nas, confirmed my suspicion,
Green fatigues on, My niggas I bleed for 'em,
I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it,
And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich,
And still I don't abort 'em [?] when and if they sink quick,
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge,
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live...
(8 Bars... kind of)
[The Game:]
I don't talk about my guns, nigga I just blaze....
'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin',
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin',
To every nigga listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening.
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole,
Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble,
15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo',
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle,
I rekindled the flame,
Dre created The Game,
nigga with an attitude from the cloth I came,
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain.
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted,
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it,
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it.
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, Nigga
(8 Bars)
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me,
How you gon' pass the dutchie [?] to them niggas that don't love me,
I'm talkin' niggas that never wanted to see me on top,
Same niggas that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not,
I'll fuck you rap niggas like virgins,
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains.
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers,
The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career,
The ending of yours, the endin of his,
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz,
N*gga, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line,
Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines,
And I still think about my nigga from time to time,
Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind,
But I just hold back cuz we ain't beefin like that,
He aint Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin off rap.
One love.
(8 Bars)
I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless.
I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though.
I'm Chillin' lyrics - The Game
You Got's To Chill
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Guess who's bizzack No it ain't hypno
L.A. Dodger fitted cap with the brim low
Blowin' on endo Roll down yo window
Matter fact let the top back and watch the wind blow
Black on black lamborghini with the dizzor
Up in the air with the pedal on the flizzor
Bandana tied around the rear view mirror
Red bandana got 'em bangin' new era
Something on my waist niggas can't get near us
Bitches 'round me shakin ass like Shakira
Niggas poppin' Chrystal everytime they hear us
I stay on niggas mind like a new era
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Doing my two step Red strings on my louis
I don't know how to dance so don't step on my louis
Bitches on the dance floor bouncin' like a pornstar
Legs in the air like the doors on a foreign car
Post it up the bar everybody strizzap
Double GAME chains hanging down to my lizzap
Every nigga in my click stay iced out
Reach for a chain,red beam, turn your lights out
Shut the club down, The Game don't stop
In the parking lot, lemon lime patron shots
Looking for Ciara heard about the goodies
Hurricanes in a BlackWallStreet Hoodie
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Everybody know when The Game in the clizzub
20 impalas outside on the dizzubs
Everything chrome from the rims to the strizzads
Panties gettin' wet everytime they see 'em lift ups
So hop in the back seat if you're a freak
Three wheel motion got 'em sliddin' on they seat
8 0 8 drums got 'em griddin' to the beat
Turn high beams on bring the club to the streets
If you jump off niggas know what I'm about
Million dollar man bring the drama to yo house
Hommies outside, Wearing that ass out
I'm gettin' a lap dance, Smoking chronic on your couch
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[2x]
I'm chillin' in the house
Rollin' in the car
Coolin' in the tub
Drinkin' at the bar
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Guess who's bizzack No it ain't hypno
L.A. Dodger fitted cap with the brim low
Blowin' on endo Roll down yo window
Matter fact let the top back and watch the wind blow
Black on black lamborghini with the dizzor
Up in the air with the pedal on the flizzor
Bandana tied around the rear view mirror
Red bandana got 'em bangin' new era
Something on my waist niggas can't get near us
Bitches 'round me shakin ass like Shakira
Niggas poppin' Chrystal everytime they hear us
I stay on niggas mind like a new era
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Doing my two step Red strings on my louis
I don't know how to dance so don't step on my louis
Bitches on the dance floor bouncin' like a pornstar
Legs in the air like the doors on a foreign car
Post it up the bar everybody strizzap
Double GAME chains hanging down to my lizzap
Every nigga in my click stay iced out
Reach for a chain,red beam, turn your lights out
Shut the club down, The Game don't stop
In the parking lot, lemon lime patron shots
Looking for Ciara heard about the goodies
Hurricanes in a BlackWallStreet Hoodie
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[The Game:]
Everybody know when The Game in the clizzub
20 impalas outside on the dizzubs
Everything chrome from the rims to the strizzads
Panties gettin' wet everytime they see 'em lift ups
So hop in the back seat if you're a freak
Three wheel motion got 'em sliddin' on they seat
8 0 8 drums got 'em griddin' to the beat
Turn high beams on bring the club to the streets
If you jump off niggas know what I'm about
Million dollar man bring the drama to yo house
Hommies outside, Wearing that ass out
I'm gettin' a lap dance, Smoking chronic on your couch
[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]
[2x]
I'm chillin' in the house
Rollin' in the car
Coolin' in the tub
Drinkin' at the bar
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
Fuck Wit Me lyrics - The Game (feat. JT)
[The Game]
Yo, it's the nigga with the nasty flow and the clean rag six-four
With the D's spinnin I can bag a ho
Top down so my rag can show, whatever in the dutch
Purple or orange haze it's just a bag of 'dro
Hit snatch with my khakis on, Aladdin Lounge
In Mark Jacobs denim and Don Magli's on
I'm a gangsta and the birds they love it
20 with a babyface and sit on base like Kirby Puckett
You can't buy a Ferrari fuck it, cop lle' from J
The bricks come with Louis Vuitton luggage
He order rock and cover it, the dimes is free
The quarters is 75, the ball is live
Ain't nobody fumblin on my block
We in the field like Biggs or Marshall Faulk, we runnin the rock
Nothin less than a hundred a pop, anything less you a cop
Shoot you and take your vest and your glock, motherfuckers
[Chorus]
What'chu know about stackin G's; you got to come fuck wit me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck wit me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck wit me
What'chu know about stackin G's; you gots to come fuck wit me
[JT]
I'm in the streets like the place is mine, told to cover my tracks
I push paper to increase my shine
I'm on my chief, jumpin out the wagon like Tyco
And get the kind of paper that these niggaz'll die fo'
Bossed out, camouflage under my vest B
Motorbike, fast cars, broads and jetskis
Rule #1, keep your eye on your cash flow
Cause rule #2 will get rid of your best so
None of 'em best show, ridin in stress mode
'less they got petrol, pushin that Benz slow
Pick up the Game, let's count some cash
Then we, get to the do', then you put on your mask
On some other shit, ridin wit'cha boy now
We on the West coast, seek and destroy now
It's like when Cal-Berkeley whooped on that Georgetown
We had a riot in the streets fin' to blow now fo'sho' now
[Chorus]
[Verse Three - unknown]
The underboss, ill too fast
Buildin my stocks off the blocks and the wears will sag
Not Gil but tryin to top, the nerd Bill Gates
From the city of project buildings and them mossberg K's
San Francisco, West coast, Northern Bay, California
Man it's Get Low so best to toast, or torch'll spray on ya
Uhh, makin mafia moves, skate from the cops
Yeah they tried stoppin ya dude
But nah, the ball, it don't stop
A shot callin if I fall then my thoughts gon' flock
Yeah, underboss with Game and Doc Figgaro
Clear {?} and I'm the in-di-vi-dual
Holdin weight, in the dope state
Tokin the 8-8, oh, fold {?}
Watch our bread and our team skyrocket
Visualize I can rip beam on the cash and not 8 guys can't stop it
[Chorus]
Yo, it's the nigga with the nasty flow and the clean rag six-four
With the D's spinnin I can bag a ho
Top down so my rag can show, whatever in the dutch
Purple or orange haze it's just a bag of 'dro
Hit snatch with my khakis on, Aladdin Lounge
In Mark Jacobs denim and Don Magli's on
I'm a gangsta and the birds they love it
20 with a babyface and sit on base like Kirby Puckett
You can't buy a Ferrari fuck it, cop lle' from J
The bricks come with Louis Vuitton luggage
He order rock and cover it, the dimes is free
The quarters is 75, the ball is live
Ain't nobody fumblin on my block
We in the field like Biggs or Marshall Faulk, we runnin the rock
Nothin less than a hundred a pop, anything less you a cop
Shoot you and take your vest and your glock, motherfuckers
[Chorus]
What'chu know about stackin G's; you got to come fuck wit me
Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck wit me
My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck wit me
What'chu know about stackin G's; you gots to come fuck wit me
[JT]
I'm in the streets like the place is mine, told to cover my tracks
I push paper to increase my shine
I'm on my chief, jumpin out the wagon like Tyco
And get the kind of paper that these niggaz'll die fo'
Bossed out, camouflage under my vest B
Motorbike, fast cars, broads and jetskis
Rule #1, keep your eye on your cash flow
Cause rule #2 will get rid of your best so
None of 'em best show, ridin in stress mode
'less they got petrol, pushin that Benz slow
Pick up the Game, let's count some cash
Then we, get to the do', then you put on your mask
On some other shit, ridin wit'cha boy now
We on the West coast, seek and destroy now
It's like when Cal-Berkeley whooped on that Georgetown
We had a riot in the streets fin' to blow now fo'sho' now
[Chorus]
[Verse Three - unknown]
The underboss, ill too fast
Buildin my stocks off the blocks and the wears will sag
Not Gil but tryin to top, the nerd Bill Gates
From the city of project buildings and them mossberg K's
San Francisco, West coast, Northern Bay, California
Man it's Get Low so best to toast, or torch'll spray on ya
Uhh, makin mafia moves, skate from the cops
Yeah they tried stoppin ya dude
But nah, the ball, it don't stop
A shot callin if I fall then my thoughts gon' flock
Yeah, underboss with Game and Doc Figgaro
Clear {?} and I'm the in-di-vi-dual
Holdin weight, in the dope state
Tokin the 8-8, oh, fold {?}
Watch our bread and our team skyrocket
Visualize I can rip beam on the cash and not 8 guys can't stop it
[Chorus]
For My Gangstaz lyrics - The Game
[scratched:] "Livin in Compton, California C-A"
Charlie O, drop that hot shit
[The Game]
Motherfucker it's the Game, mister tint the windows wit'cha brain
Since a young'n up and comin, all I did was cop 'caine
They try and change the Game, nigga I still cop 'caine
I ain't moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came
Bitches tryin to throw salt in my name, barbers tryin to part my game
Niggaz tryin to chalk my frame
But I walk on a thin line without scuffin my Chucks
Bad Boyyyyy, and I fuck with Puff
So bring the guns if you want nigga; I'm real good with the glock
And 50 G's say you leave in a box
When I fuck Lil' Kim guess I'm feelin like 'Pac
Niggaz wanna wrestle The Game, guess they feel like The Rock
"It doesn't matter," 745 up and down your block
Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot
It's different in my hood, only time we take shots
is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block
[Chorus]
This is for the gangster, in me
This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters pour the brew
This is for the gangster, in me
This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters red and blue
[Verse Two]
I'm worldwide with this gangsta lean, my life's no dream
I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens
Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip
My thugs get crunk off Lil' Flip
State to state many shows I rip, I'm the boss of the Bay
Like Clint Eastwood, make my day
Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin paid
In the end, all they get is played
Maybe a nut, no Ice Capade
Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey
And I don't give a fuck if you really don't like me
It's in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy
One of the best I might be, it really don't matter
When I bust, sucker MC's scatter, gettin out of my way
I bust bad bitches night and day
I make classics like Dr. Dre, closed casket from rhymes I say
[Chorus]
[The Game]
... Gon' move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis
And ride with the West we got lower coat prices
You know me the king of L.A., New York
Drivin through Brooklyn in a fo', same color as water
You want X? I can cover the order
Ninety-fo' been hustlin now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter
Not the rap martyr, or the second rap Carter
Compton's own, I'm home, not the best I just rap harder
Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me
Street spinnin like waves on that Continental T
My grandmoms woulda been proud of me, look at your grandson now
'Til my demis, Black Mafia ties
So it's hard to let the larcent die, my {?} treys
A killer changin the game like them Marcy guys
And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie
I'm from Compton, he from New York City, c'mon really?
[Chorus]
Charlie O, drop that hot shit
[The Game]
Motherfucker it's the Game, mister tint the windows wit'cha brain
Since a young'n up and comin, all I did was cop 'caine
They try and change the Game, nigga I still cop 'caine
I ain't moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came
Bitches tryin to throw salt in my name, barbers tryin to part my game
Niggaz tryin to chalk my frame
But I walk on a thin line without scuffin my Chucks
Bad Boyyyyy, and I fuck with Puff
So bring the guns if you want nigga; I'm real good with the glock
And 50 G's say you leave in a box
When I fuck Lil' Kim guess I'm feelin like 'Pac
Niggaz wanna wrestle The Game, guess they feel like The Rock
"It doesn't matter," 745 up and down your block
Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot
It's different in my hood, only time we take shots
is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block
[Chorus]
This is for the gangster, in me
This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters pour the brew
This is for the gangster, in me
This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters red and blue
[Verse Two]
I'm worldwide with this gangsta lean, my life's no dream
I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens
Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip
My thugs get crunk off Lil' Flip
State to state many shows I rip, I'm the boss of the Bay
Like Clint Eastwood, make my day
Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin paid
In the end, all they get is played
Maybe a nut, no Ice Capade
Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey
And I don't give a fuck if you really don't like me
It's in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy
One of the best I might be, it really don't matter
When I bust, sucker MC's scatter, gettin out of my way
I bust bad bitches night and day
I make classics like Dr. Dre, closed casket from rhymes I say
[Chorus]
[The Game]
... Gon' move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis
And ride with the West we got lower coat prices
You know me the king of L.A., New York
Drivin through Brooklyn in a fo', same color as water
You want X? I can cover the order
Ninety-fo' been hustlin now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter
Not the rap martyr, or the second rap Carter
Compton's own, I'm home, not the best I just rap harder
Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me
Street spinnin like waves on that Continental T
My grandmoms woulda been proud of me, look at your grandson now
'Til my demis, Black Mafia ties
So it's hard to let the larcent die, my {?} treys
A killer changin the game like them Marcy guys
And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie
I'm from Compton, he from New York City, c'mon really?
[Chorus]
Money Over Bitches lyrics - The Game (feat. JT)
[The Game]
Huh, niggaz think they got the game sewed, yeah right
I'm air tight, fresh in them Air Nikes
If the Navi outside, I might be there
Black hoodie, black 9, black wifey airs
Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare
You see the lump under the Iceberg fleece and gear
And when the beef cook, I'ma put the piece to your head
And if you see a white truck that mean yo' sheets is dead
Then I'm goin goin, back back
to the block to dump the bucket and jump in the drop
Niggaz know I'm good with the glock, they call me Chick Hearns
Cause if the game on knot, I'm callin the shots
I'll wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The LOX
Then get gangster with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box
And when I die, bury me with the glock, and a bucket of shells
In case niggaz want drama in hell
[JT]
Yeah, so when Compton niggaz and Fillmoe niggaz get together
Shit happens mayne; real talk from ya nigga Fig'
Doin it big and don't wanna split yo' wig
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'll give you anything you ask fo' - money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo' - fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' - niggaz tried to play me man
(1) Anything you ask fo' - all about this Bay game
(2) Anything you ask fo' - representin Bay game
[JT]
I be the boy with the most cabbage, pluck strings like I'm Lenny Kravitz
I'm in the streets where they goin savage
One, two, we dance on the rooftop
Let the Coupe ghostride then we come to two stops
Figga eight'n by the corner sto'
Niggarali from killer Cali you gotta let 'em know
Yeahh, ya hit me on my Sidekick
Inventory pilin up, niggaz tryin to buy shit
They got me diggin in my files
Pro Tools, ADAT tapes and big sounds
Jumpin on a plane, jumpin out a taxi cab
Stackin up this fettucini now these niggaz hella mad
"Fuck that nigga! He got another album on the board?"
Damn right, another album on the board
Fuck the bullshit, the Figgarali don't play
I represent the whole Bay every motherfuckin day
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
Count rubber band grands
I'm out big on the under, with my fam bam
And I, hover the lands
To expand, I'm from the gutter grime and the sand
No jams the flam's all busted
The dames want the bucks when, they see you stuffed in
your pockets, 'til they get them some
But testin my pocket, only gets you none
Cause I, got a pimp mentality
The scrubs wanna eat shrimp, and get my salary
They ain't knowin I'm tight laced in my shoestrings
Hate the way I'm flowin on the mic, cause I do gleam
All types of baguettes and bezels
We shine like life's {?} rebels
2005, me and my crew just pile the pots
Move like the ice loose, pimp these thangs to watch
[Chorus]
Huh, niggaz think they got the game sewed, yeah right
I'm air tight, fresh in them Air Nikes
If the Navi outside, I might be there
Black hoodie, black 9, black wifey airs
Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare
You see the lump under the Iceberg fleece and gear
And when the beef cook, I'ma put the piece to your head
And if you see a white truck that mean yo' sheets is dead
Then I'm goin goin, back back
to the block to dump the bucket and jump in the drop
Niggaz know I'm good with the glock, they call me Chick Hearns
Cause if the game on knot, I'm callin the shots
I'll wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The LOX
Then get gangster with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box
And when I die, bury me with the glock, and a bucket of shells
In case niggaz want drama in hell
[JT]
Yeah, so when Compton niggaz and Fillmoe niggaz get together
Shit happens mayne; real talk from ya nigga Fig'
Doin it big and don't wanna split yo' wig
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'll give you anything you ask fo' - money over bitches
Tell me what'chu blast fo' - fuck around with snitches
What you had to smash fo' - niggaz tried to play me man
(1) Anything you ask fo' - all about this Bay game
(2) Anything you ask fo' - representin Bay game
[JT]
I be the boy with the most cabbage, pluck strings like I'm Lenny Kravitz
I'm in the streets where they goin savage
One, two, we dance on the rooftop
Let the Coupe ghostride then we come to two stops
Figga eight'n by the corner sto'
Niggarali from killer Cali you gotta let 'em know
Yeahh, ya hit me on my Sidekick
Inventory pilin up, niggaz tryin to buy shit
They got me diggin in my files
Pro Tools, ADAT tapes and big sounds
Jumpin on a plane, jumpin out a taxi cab
Stackin up this fettucini now these niggaz hella mad
"Fuck that nigga! He got another album on the board?"
Damn right, another album on the board
Fuck the bullshit, the Figgarali don't play
I represent the whole Bay every motherfuckin day
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
Count rubber band grands
I'm out big on the under, with my fam bam
And I, hover the lands
To expand, I'm from the gutter grime and the sand
No jams the flam's all busted
The dames want the bucks when, they see you stuffed in
your pockets, 'til they get them some
But testin my pocket, only gets you none
Cause I, got a pimp mentality
The scrubs wanna eat shrimp, and get my salary
They ain't knowin I'm tight laced in my shoestrings
Hate the way I'm flowin on the mic, cause I do gleam
All types of baguettes and bezels
We shine like life's {?} rebels
2005, me and my crew just pile the pots
Move like the ice loose, pimp these thangs to watch
[Chorus]
I'm A Mobsta lyrics - The Game (feat. Young Menace)
[Young Menace + (The Game)]
Yeah! What is it? It's Young Menace, and the Game
(Hahaha, yeah) Stackin chips, G-Unit (Chuck Taylor)
Doublin down on who? (Compton's young guns)
Sacramenton's finest (Who fuckin with me?)
From Sac-Town to Compton, you dig?
[The Game]
Yo, yo, now ain't no tellin what the Game'll do, listen dawg
I blow the guts out the dutch and do the same to you
And just to get shit crackin, I drop the toaster
Grab the Louis go Sammy Sosa
And you ain't gotta know me to know that, I hop out a new pink Rolls
With the fifty-two Pete Rose throwback
Haze in my eyes, listen to Bobby Womack
On the same corner where Eazy-E sold coke at
And dawg I'ma test your education
What do I mean when I say I move more birds than migration?
I'm the nigga that'll smoke the purple, get high as a kite
Down half the Goose then choke your workers
Don't make me put two in your shirt, dawg I put in the work
Then move bags like Doony & Bert
And stuff work in the GMC, cause on my block
I'm the King of Rock like Run-D.M.C., nigga
[Chorus: Young Menace]
I'm a mobster, with a mac-11 chopper
That'll pop ya and put one through ya motherfuckin collar
I'm a mobster, Robin Hood's like Kevin Costner
If ya fuck with my dollars I'll make you swallow my daughters
I'm a mobster, I keep a bitch by my waist
Just in case I gotta draw down to get this big face
I'm a mobster, uh-huh, yeh-yeah
I'm a mobster, uh-huh, yeh-yeah
[Young Menace]
Shhhhh.. I got a lot to say
Dawg I gotta get paid that's why I rock the lle'
And chop the lle' to push bricks through your block a day
I'll bring terror to your squad and make you rock away
Don't depend on tomorrow you can get shot today
I'll spit acid on your turf and watch your block decay
Dawg I spit on your grave and fertilize you too
I hit 'em hard with 16 bars, flames and fumes
Somebody needs to push your infant rap back in the womb
Go 'head and keep talkin that shit and get your life consumed
I put a hole in your chest dawg the size of the moon
Yeah you musta been talkin, how'd you get out that soon?
(You fuckin snitch!) I got a chop that'll touch yo' head like Vidal Sassoon
You don't wanna see my platoon, I got gorillas and baboons
That won't hesitate, they gon' do what they have to
When there's beef on the streets it's on for life like tattoos
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
It don't matter what season, it don't matter not a day
I move traffic through the city, plus I keep the right of way
I'm on point like Bibby, I'm the leader of the team mayne
Got the whole city amped just like a Lakers versus Kings game
Everybody's fired up, I drop major packages
I'm never doin bids because my game is so immaculate
A bitch try to snitch, "I Can't Deny It" like Fabolous
Before the evidence gatherin, someone's in an ambulance
Now that'll learn you to keep your big mouth shut
Those with big mouths I got the perfect size nuts
Yeah I do my dirt, but I wash my hands thoroughly
Handle my business first so I can celebrate early
It's business before pleasure my business brings me pleasure
It feels good to be able to shine, in any type of weather
That's why I do what I gotta do so my money's lookin tight
Whether I'm jukin on the block or have bitches hookin lights y'know?
[Chorus]
Yeah! What is it? It's Young Menace, and the Game
(Hahaha, yeah) Stackin chips, G-Unit (Chuck Taylor)
Doublin down on who? (Compton's young guns)
Sacramenton's finest (Who fuckin with me?)
From Sac-Town to Compton, you dig?
[The Game]
Yo, yo, now ain't no tellin what the Game'll do, listen dawg
I blow the guts out the dutch and do the same to you
And just to get shit crackin, I drop the toaster
Grab the Louis go Sammy Sosa
And you ain't gotta know me to know that, I hop out a new pink Rolls
With the fifty-two Pete Rose throwback
Haze in my eyes, listen to Bobby Womack
On the same corner where Eazy-E sold coke at
And dawg I'ma test your education
What do I mean when I say I move more birds than migration?
I'm the nigga that'll smoke the purple, get high as a kite
Down half the Goose then choke your workers
Don't make me put two in your shirt, dawg I put in the work
Then move bags like Doony & Bert
And stuff work in the GMC, cause on my block
I'm the King of Rock like Run-D.M.C., nigga
[Chorus: Young Menace]
I'm a mobster, with a mac-11 chopper
That'll pop ya and put one through ya motherfuckin collar
I'm a mobster, Robin Hood's like Kevin Costner
If ya fuck with my dollars I'll make you swallow my daughters
I'm a mobster, I keep a bitch by my waist
Just in case I gotta draw down to get this big face
I'm a mobster, uh-huh, yeh-yeah
I'm a mobster, uh-huh, yeh-yeah
[Young Menace]
Shhhhh.. I got a lot to say
Dawg I gotta get paid that's why I rock the lle'
And chop the lle' to push bricks through your block a day
I'll bring terror to your squad and make you rock away
Don't depend on tomorrow you can get shot today
I'll spit acid on your turf and watch your block decay
Dawg I spit on your grave and fertilize you too
I hit 'em hard with 16 bars, flames and fumes
Somebody needs to push your infant rap back in the womb
Go 'head and keep talkin that shit and get your life consumed
I put a hole in your chest dawg the size of the moon
Yeah you musta been talkin, how'd you get out that soon?
(You fuckin snitch!) I got a chop that'll touch yo' head like Vidal Sassoon
You don't wanna see my platoon, I got gorillas and baboons
That won't hesitate, they gon' do what they have to
When there's beef on the streets it's on for life like tattoos
[Chorus]
[Verse Three]
It don't matter what season, it don't matter not a day
I move traffic through the city, plus I keep the right of way
I'm on point like Bibby, I'm the leader of the team mayne
Got the whole city amped just like a Lakers versus Kings game
Everybody's fired up, I drop major packages
I'm never doin bids because my game is so immaculate
A bitch try to snitch, "I Can't Deny It" like Fabolous
Before the evidence gatherin, someone's in an ambulance
Now that'll learn you to keep your big mouth shut
Those with big mouths I got the perfect size nuts
Yeah I do my dirt, but I wash my hands thoroughly
Handle my business first so I can celebrate early
It's business before pleasure my business brings me pleasure
It feels good to be able to shine, in any type of weather
That's why I do what I gotta do so my money's lookin tight
Whether I'm jukin on the block or have bitches hookin lights y'know?
[Chorus]
Business Never Personal lyrics - The Game (feat. JT)
[The Game]
Yo, when I'm out in Oakland, catch me in the silver and black Coupe
With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue
When I'm out in San Fran, the P.D. real nervous
Cause they know I'm packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey
Nigga, it ain't nuttin for me to empty a clip
Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip
I know about gangs, had shootouts with plenty of Crips
I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks
So ain't nuttin you can tell me, about the game
Come with beef and leave here without your brains
And I'ma drive upstate and try to bounce this 'caine
In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain
And you know I got the South clickin
Cause ain't nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens
So fuck with my D and get found wit'cha mouth missin
This ain't about you and me it's about business nigga
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
It's business never personal, real live on blocks
If we ain't movin the rocks, then we movin the stocks
Cross a hustler motherfucker you'll arrive in a box
It's the true to life struggle 'til we arrive on top
[JT]
They don't understand me, like the Birdman I got candy
Put the herb in, I got family
I'm doin 85, in the 50-mile-an-hour lane
Tryin to handle my business, the Figgaro stack change
Independent tycoons (tycoons) - yeah
My niggaz puff trees, snort coke and chew shrooms
Bad to the bone (to the bone)
And cain't trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone
My whole crew dirty, fuckin with amphetamines
Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines
Now the streets knowin (knowin)
And I'ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens
Still blowin
Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse, gold knock them bitches outs
We take trips out to Houston and D.C.
For the West coast, nigga can you feel me?
[Chorus]
Yo, when I'm out in Oakland, catch me in the silver and black Coupe
With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue
When I'm out in San Fran, the P.D. real nervous
Cause they know I'm packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey
Nigga, it ain't nuttin for me to empty a clip
Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip
I know about gangs, had shootouts with plenty of Crips
I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks
So ain't nuttin you can tell me, about the game
Come with beef and leave here without your brains
And I'ma drive upstate and try to bounce this 'caine
In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain
And you know I got the South clickin
Cause ain't nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens
So fuck with my D and get found wit'cha mouth missin
This ain't about you and me it's about business nigga
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
It's business never personal, real live on blocks
If we ain't movin the rocks, then we movin the stocks
Cross a hustler motherfucker you'll arrive in a box
It's the true to life struggle 'til we arrive on top
[JT]
They don't understand me, like the Birdman I got candy
Put the herb in, I got family
I'm doin 85, in the 50-mile-an-hour lane
Tryin to handle my business, the Figgaro stack change
Independent tycoons (tycoons) - yeah
My niggaz puff trees, snort coke and chew shrooms
Bad to the bone (to the bone)
And cain't trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone
My whole crew dirty, fuckin with amphetamines
Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines
Now the streets knowin (knowin)
And I'ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens
Still blowin
Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse, gold knock them bitches outs
We take trips out to Houston and D.C.
For the West coast, nigga can you feel me?
[Chorus]
Eat Your Beats Alive lyrics - The Game (feat. JT)
[JT]
Three wheel motion around the corner on these niggaz mayne
Smashin down the block, Charlie O beat in the deck
Game, what it do? (What it do?)
[The Game]
They love the way a nigga hop them six-fours and shit
The way I, push buttons make them Diablo doors lift
The way I, stick and move, when I'm behind the wheel
of that new Escalade with the Foreman grill
The way I, peel back niggaz jerseys
It ain't your life, I'm just not a big fan of James Worthy
So wait 'til I see y'all, I'm real surgical with the Ruger
But you won't catch my face on E.R.
But you might catch them dudes from the ambulance
Squattin on top of ya mans givin 'em each CPR
Tryin to get 'em to "Breathe Again" like Toni Braxton
Told y'all 'bout comin to Cali, with them phony accents
Hollywood got movies, but it ain't no actin
So wear that bling to them awards like it ain't no jackers
We chain snatchers (twenty-fo' seven)
[Chorus: JT]
When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive
When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive
Fuckin with this cash - eat ya beats alive
Cause it's all about math - eat ya beats alive
When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive
When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive
All about this cash - eat ya beats alive
Nigga all about math - eat ya beats alive
[The Game]
It ain't nuttin to spray you faggots
Or have your moms get you a Burberry suit so you look good in that casket
It's [reversed] you faggots, desperado in tact
June, Drago, The Game and D-Mac (holla)
Come through in a grim reaper black Cadillac
Seven-three, ooh-wee, you see, who he
With the ugliest, flows, money hungriest
Oh, the kid got hoes, you ain't know?
Head is never optional, get my whistle, blizzow
Carry pistols, to your Sources and your Grammys
Of course it's that nigga that kick down doors
And leave rooms filled with corpses, Jordan and bloody Air Forces
To get my dough I come back like Air Jordan
Same shot, lil' older, still no nigga can hold him
Stepped back, sold crack let the Compton streets mold him
Big face said I could it, he'll bet you a G
[Chorus]
[JT]
See I'm the nigga with the most flow
Figgaro from killer Cali, reppin Get Low, niggaz know
Independent with my hustle
Couldn't give a fuck money or muscle it's time to bubble
West coast is the place where we holdin it down
Bay area thuggin, they knowin it now
I'm from the home of the Get Low, home of the get dough
Home where they want mo' so niggaz get they pistol
Run up in yo' back do', lookin for the cheddar cheese
Canary wristwatch on celebrities
Diamond bezelled iced out with hella cheese
And every fuckin link is like a masterpiece
Catch 'em slippin comin out the Burger King
Parkin lot project life, we like to spark a lot
Better known as a bandit, niggaz cain't stand it
My whole block gets hard like granite
[Chorus]
[JT] Nigga
Three wheel motion around the corner on these niggaz mayne
Smashin down the block, Charlie O beat in the deck
Game, what it do? (What it do?)
[The Game]
They love the way a nigga hop them six-fours and shit
The way I, push buttons make them Diablo doors lift
The way I, stick and move, when I'm behind the wheel
of that new Escalade with the Foreman grill
The way I, peel back niggaz jerseys
It ain't your life, I'm just not a big fan of James Worthy
So wait 'til I see y'all, I'm real surgical with the Ruger
But you won't catch my face on E.R.
But you might catch them dudes from the ambulance
Squattin on top of ya mans givin 'em each CPR
Tryin to get 'em to "Breathe Again" like Toni Braxton
Told y'all 'bout comin to Cali, with them phony accents
Hollywood got movies, but it ain't no actin
So wear that bling to them awards like it ain't no jackers
We chain snatchers (twenty-fo' seven)
[Chorus: JT]
When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive
When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive
Fuckin with this cash - eat ya beats alive
Cause it's all about math - eat ya beats alive
When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive
When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive
All about this cash - eat ya beats alive
Nigga all about math - eat ya beats alive
[The Game]
It ain't nuttin to spray you faggots
Or have your moms get you a Burberry suit so you look good in that casket
It's [reversed] you faggots, desperado in tact
June, Drago, The Game and D-Mac (holla)
Come through in a grim reaper black Cadillac
Seven-three, ooh-wee, you see, who he
With the ugliest, flows, money hungriest
Oh, the kid got hoes, you ain't know?
Head is never optional, get my whistle, blizzow
Carry pistols, to your Sources and your Grammys
Of course it's that nigga that kick down doors
And leave rooms filled with corpses, Jordan and bloody Air Forces
To get my dough I come back like Air Jordan
Same shot, lil' older, still no nigga can hold him
Stepped back, sold crack let the Compton streets mold him
Big face said I could it, he'll bet you a G
[Chorus]
[JT]
See I'm the nigga with the most flow
Figgaro from killer Cali, reppin Get Low, niggaz know
Independent with my hustle
Couldn't give a fuck money or muscle it's time to bubble
West coast is the place where we holdin it down
Bay area thuggin, they knowin it now
I'm from the home of the Get Low, home of the get dough
Home where they want mo' so niggaz get they pistol
Run up in yo' back do', lookin for the cheddar cheese
Canary wristwatch on celebrities
Diamond bezelled iced out with hella cheese
And every fuckin link is like a masterpiece
Catch 'em slippin comin out the Burger King
Parkin lot project life, we like to spark a lot
Better known as a bandit, niggaz cain't stand it
My whole block gets hard like granite
[Chorus]
[JT] Nigga
Troublesome lyrics - The Game
[The Game]
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in your Jeep, leave a nigga sleep
Now you six feet deep over bullshit
Got a mac-10 mouth, ain't never pull shit
The ghetto don't make G's, it mold niggaz, get down or lay down
like Beanie Mac told niggaz or meet the fo'-fo' nigga
I let them guns blow, nigga I'm a rider
Thug Life 'til I die, Black Wall Street behind us
I'm a "Menace II Society," fuck Caine and O-Dog
I got the 'caine and the O's, dawg
I'm gangsta like Hennessy and Alize, Thug Passion
Ride or die 'til they kill me or put me in "Thugz Mansion"
Gangbangin, this California lifestyle got me heated
They want me buried, so I don't leave without the Desert Eagle
Shoot first, ask questions on my way to county jail
Kill a nigga over my chain cause I know I'ma make bail
I'm troublesome
[The Game]
"If I Die Tonite" - "Bury Me a G" amongst rap legends
Cause I spit bullets in rhymes, 16's and 9's
I keep a vest and a weapon, my baby momma got me stressin
Prayin on my knees every night askin God is there a heaven?
So here is my confession to my unborn child
Them five shots couldn't drop me, but I ain't take 'em and smile
I lost a lot of my niggaz to gangbangin and digits
One figure on the trigger dawg I live the life of a sinner
These motherfuckers wanna see me doin life in the pen
I'm a Outlaw, and the West coast is ridin again
My competition is none, I'm on a mission with guns
Starin death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep when we ride
My enemies is bitches, they plottin on my riches
Can't walk in the streets without the paparazzi takin pictures
Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston
These niggaz keep talkin I leave 'em dead in a coffin
I'm troublesome
[The Game]
Money over bitches is my motto in the streets I'm known for catchin hollows
Packin pistols and drinkin Belve and Grey Goose out the bottle
No role models, only killers and fiends
Witness my nigga strapped with gats and army fatigues
If it's murder he wrote it, if I'm lyin let the XXL quote it
And know that I'm strictly a rap poet
Baptized in my own tears, chastized by my own peers
I'm a product of my childhood years
My mother told me I'm HOPELESS, my pops wasn't around
One of the reasons why I'm clutchin the pound
California dreamin, chronic smoke out the beamer
One hand on the nina schemin got these hooptie bitches screamin
They know that I'm celebrity, keep them cop killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my niggaz keep tellin me
21 years old, no felonies, so I ride with the Desert
And pay homage to the hardest rap legend
I'm troublesome
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep
I put five in your Jeep, leave a nigga sleep
Now you six feet deep over bullshit
Got a mac-10 mouth, ain't never pull shit
The ghetto don't make G's, it mold niggaz, get down or lay down
like Beanie Mac told niggaz or meet the fo'-fo' nigga
I let them guns blow, nigga I'm a rider
Thug Life 'til I die, Black Wall Street behind us
I'm a "Menace II Society," fuck Caine and O-Dog
I got the 'caine and the O's, dawg
I'm gangsta like Hennessy and Alize, Thug Passion
Ride or die 'til they kill me or put me in "Thugz Mansion"
Gangbangin, this California lifestyle got me heated
They want me buried, so I don't leave without the Desert Eagle
Shoot first, ask questions on my way to county jail
Kill a nigga over my chain cause I know I'ma make bail
I'm troublesome
[The Game]
"If I Die Tonite" - "Bury Me a G" amongst rap legends
Cause I spit bullets in rhymes, 16's and 9's
I keep a vest and a weapon, my baby momma got me stressin
Prayin on my knees every night askin God is there a heaven?
So here is my confession to my unborn child
Them five shots couldn't drop me, but I ain't take 'em and smile
I lost a lot of my niggaz to gangbangin and digits
One figure on the trigger dawg I live the life of a sinner
These motherfuckers wanna see me doin life in the pen
I'm a Outlaw, and the West coast is ridin again
My competition is none, I'm on a mission with guns
Starin death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep when we ride
My enemies is bitches, they plottin on my riches
Can't walk in the streets without the paparazzi takin pictures
Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston
These niggaz keep talkin I leave 'em dead in a coffin
I'm troublesome
[The Game]
Money over bitches is my motto in the streets I'm known for catchin hollows
Packin pistols and drinkin Belve and Grey Goose out the bottle
No role models, only killers and fiends
Witness my nigga strapped with gats and army fatigues
If it's murder he wrote it, if I'm lyin let the XXL quote it
And know that I'm strictly a rap poet
Baptized in my own tears, chastized by my own peers
I'm a product of my childhood years
My mother told me I'm HOPELESS, my pops wasn't around
One of the reasons why I'm clutchin the pound
California dreamin, chronic smoke out the beamer
One hand on the nina schemin got these hooptie bitches screamin
They know that I'm celebrity, keep them cop killers in the clip
And watch my back is what my niggaz keep tellin me
21 years old, no felonies, so I ride with the Desert
And pay homage to the hardest rap legend
I'm troublesome
Just Beginning (Where I'm From) lyrics - The Game
Sometimes I wonder
Man, how long is it gon' be for my people to come out
Man we strugglin, it's hard sometimes, but
Tomorrow's better than yesterday, uhh
[The Game]
I was, born in the slums, struggled from day one
Ray Charles vision, blinded by the light from the sun
No navigation, no sense of direction, darker complexion
made it hard to live; dad, how you fathered your kids?
Stranded on the highway of life, left us out to die, left us out to dry
Shhhh, I'm still here, my mother's cries
Nigga no father figures make harder niggaz
Through the years, went to war with niggaz from what I saw in the picture
Now your son is bigger, 13, but just like you
Moms said I would grow up and be just like you
From what you did to my sister she disliked you
Sixteen, eleventh grade, look at me just like you
Gunnin for riches, runnin hoppin project fences
Street corners to Arizona, how I earn my digits
And I'm far from finished, gamin 'til my coffee diminish
Why pray for the afterlife when mines just beginnin, huh
[The Game]
Only son by our mother, no brothers, only sisters by this one
Every time I kissed one I missed one, let me explain
Eight years before the game, everything came with pain
Watch the fate of my family slain would never see good times a-gayn
Cursed with pain by a nigga with no shame
My father, that have the same name as his father
My grandfather wouldn't believe, he pulled up our family tree
I can see him rollin over in his coffin
I'm left with often, thoughts of how could you molest your daughter
They say that's ten times worse than manslaughter
Man you oughta, be dead in a grave
But it wasn't my call, so instead you sat in a cage
High-powered, two-hundred and fifty pound, six-five coward
Woulda been dead in an hour
Heard you was scared to take a shower, scared of the yard
Your end is near, you shoulda been scared of God, motherfucker
Man, how long is it gon' be for my people to come out
Man we strugglin, it's hard sometimes, but
Tomorrow's better than yesterday, uhh
[The Game]
I was, born in the slums, struggled from day one
Ray Charles vision, blinded by the light from the sun
No navigation, no sense of direction, darker complexion
made it hard to live; dad, how you fathered your kids?
Stranded on the highway of life, left us out to die, left us out to dry
Shhhh, I'm still here, my mother's cries
Nigga no father figures make harder niggaz
Through the years, went to war with niggaz from what I saw in the picture
Now your son is bigger, 13, but just like you
Moms said I would grow up and be just like you
From what you did to my sister she disliked you
Sixteen, eleventh grade, look at me just like you
Gunnin for riches, runnin hoppin project fences
Street corners to Arizona, how I earn my digits
And I'm far from finished, gamin 'til my coffee diminish
Why pray for the afterlife when mines just beginnin, huh
[The Game]
Only son by our mother, no brothers, only sisters by this one
Every time I kissed one I missed one, let me explain
Eight years before the game, everything came with pain
Watch the fate of my family slain would never see good times a-gayn
Cursed with pain by a nigga with no shame
My father, that have the same name as his father
My grandfather wouldn't believe, he pulled up our family tree
I can see him rollin over in his coffin
I'm left with often, thoughts of how could you molest your daughter
They say that's ten times worse than manslaughter
Man you oughta, be dead in a grave
But it wasn't my call, so instead you sat in a cage
High-powered, two-hundred and fifty pound, six-five coward
Woulda been dead in an hour
Heard you was scared to take a shower, scared of the yard
Your end is near, you shoulda been scared of God, motherfucker
Born & Raised In Compton (Raised As A G) lyrics - The Game
[10 second instrumental to open]
[The Game]
Aight
Now everybody wanna know the truth about a nigga named Game
I come from the hub and every ghetto ain't the same
A lot of people already know exactly where it's at
Cause it's the home of the jackers and the crack [whispered] - Compton
Yeah that's the name of my hometown
I'm goin down, in the town, where my name is all around
And niggaz just be hatin and shit, that's a pity
But I ain't doin nuttin but claimin my city
See my lyrics are double or nothin provin to suckers I can throw 'em
Pass the natural 10 to 4 and six-eight before I go
Not really into freestylin, or tryin to promote violence
But they gotta know about the five-five-fo', so
And that's how I'm livin, I do as I please B
A young gangsta put in work on these Cali streets
And everybody knows that you gotta be stompin
If you're born and raised in Compton
[Chorus]
[quiet scratching:] "Born and raised in Compton"
[The Game]
Nowww Compton is a place, where all my niggaz chill dog
'til I found out, the streets get real dog
'Bout a year ago, somebody musta wanted me to die
Cause they kicked in the door, and gave the young kid five
They musta thought that I was gon' play the bitch role
Cause I lived through fo' five six holes
But I ain't goin out like no faggot-ass clown
They found, they couldn't keep a gangsta nigga down
So here's the burner in your face motherfucker silly sucker
ass clucker now you're duckin cause you can't stop a Y.G.
Gangsta, cause I'm true to my game
You're lame, and thangs ain't gon' never be the same
Cause a nigga like the Game is takin over
I really don't think I should have to explain
Oh yeah I'm a dog but my name ain't Rover
And I'm the kinda nigga that's feelin no pain
Sometimes I have to wear a bulletproof vest
Because I got the C-P-T style written across my chest
A gangsta motherfucker never ceasin to impress
My name is young Game so you can fuck, the rest
I'm comin like this and I'm comin directly
Cause niggaz gettin all stirred up, I'm doin damage quite effectively
Rhymin is a battlezone and niggaz can't win
Cause I'm a gangsta from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N
[The Game]
Aight
Now everybody wanna know the truth about a nigga named Game
I come from the hub and every ghetto ain't the same
A lot of people already know exactly where it's at
Cause it's the home of the jackers and the crack [whispered] - Compton
Yeah that's the name of my hometown
I'm goin down, in the town, where my name is all around
And niggaz just be hatin and shit, that's a pity
But I ain't doin nuttin but claimin my city
See my lyrics are double or nothin provin to suckers I can throw 'em
Pass the natural 10 to 4 and six-eight before I go
Not really into freestylin, or tryin to promote violence
But they gotta know about the five-five-fo', so
And that's how I'm livin, I do as I please B
A young gangsta put in work on these Cali streets
And everybody knows that you gotta be stompin
If you're born and raised in Compton
[Chorus]
[quiet scratching:] "Born and raised in Compton"
[The Game]
Nowww Compton is a place, where all my niggaz chill dog
'til I found out, the streets get real dog
'Bout a year ago, somebody musta wanted me to die
Cause they kicked in the door, and gave the young kid five
They musta thought that I was gon' play the bitch role
Cause I lived through fo' five six holes
But I ain't goin out like no faggot-ass clown
They found, they couldn't keep a gangsta nigga down
So here's the burner in your face motherfucker silly sucker
ass clucker now you're duckin cause you can't stop a Y.G.
Gangsta, cause I'm true to my game
You're lame, and thangs ain't gon' never be the same
Cause a nigga like the Game is takin over
I really don't think I should have to explain
Oh yeah I'm a dog but my name ain't Rover
And I'm the kinda nigga that's feelin no pain
Sometimes I have to wear a bulletproof vest
Because I got the C-P-T style written across my chest
A gangsta motherfucker never ceasin to impress
My name is young Game so you can fuck, the rest
I'm comin like this and I'm comin directly
Cause niggaz gettin all stirred up, I'm doin damage quite effectively
Rhymin is a battlezone and niggaz can't win
Cause I'm a gangsta from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N
We Are The Hustlaz lyrics - The Game
Yeah...
Yeah man we them niggaz everybody talkin 'bout
Hey yo, yo
[Verse One]
Whether it's, chips or whips or bricks of 'caine
I still shine at the end when y'all forced to rain
Changed the game, three shots parade ya Range
Hit the passenger, driver, old man on a cane
I'm a shell in the chamber, waitin to pop
Like Stoudamire on the court I'm used to movin the rock
Cruise in the drop, 740, snub in the box
My attitude shifty, never callin the cops
A Green Bay jersey, out on Bennett puffin hershey
D's on the route tryin to catch a nigga dirty
Respect the flow, better yet respect the dough
He get respect like rich and po'
Fuck a 9 to 5, I'd rather wake up and spit bars
And your wife, known to make my dick hard
Cartier lenses, 22's on my Benz's
When shit break out, y'all hit the fences
[Chorus]
We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin sticks, spliff up
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
Unidentifiable straps makin heat clap sicker
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
We about reliable scratch and gettin this math quicker
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
[Verse Two]
Shit I might as well be duels, cause they call me the Flowmaster
I keep ridin tracks like a natural disaster
You know I'm 'bout macra{?} I'll clap ya, a pirate like {?}
Far from a Hollywood actor
A factor, focused on paper and cars
I move like crowds, stay minglin with the stars
I'm in the 6500 Benz truck with some broads
Dimes in every state I strike through be on me so hard
You know them Bentley bound, {?} down, wild Hummer chicks
That wanna take the car, cover up your tight summer shit
The game's heavy, man that's way off the charts
Heavier than killer whales at animal theme parks
You niggaz is SweeTarts, my family is street sharks
We keep the ER busy tryin to revive the treat marks
Shit, we merk niggaz like Eddie, get ready
We got heat that set car alarms off like M-80's
[Chorus]
[The Game]
The Game on some regular rhymin, fuck all this new shit
When they gon' let real niggaz get on that cruise ship
Black Sox and Dallas Squad got, chains and cars
Get, brains from stars after those awards
Miyagi's or doubles, don't think I won't buy out the bar
That's little shit, Mercedes dealership, buy out the cars
Sticker in the window, let 'em know that it's ours
Sittin on shit you ain't never seen like we got it from Mars
Game like Laker Will, snatch a bitch off your arm
She see Game covered in ice like I lived through a snowstorm
Plus I blow digits like my first name was {?}
Pay off security at clubs, get our guns admitted
Outside the club in the parkin lot, four dot six
Not know it's stocked? Nigga it's the one we keep the bricks in
Hard black on black leather's what we keep the chicks in
And bitches stay sniffin like smellin dubs is a sixth sense
[Chorus]
Walk Thru The Sky lyrics - The Game
[22 second instrumental to open]
[The Game]
Open your eyes, we in a new era
Less drama more unity, everything's lookin a lil' clearer
Like a face in the mirror karma
It was right before our eyes, facin the future I cried
No more Martin Luther shots, from off the words from Malcolm
Tunes from Jimi, it's sad but you gotta hear me
All praises due to the mighty Allah, God forgive me
I've been through it, but it's not all bad in me
A young kid tryin to change his ways
Every day a lil' closer, show him the light let him pave the way
Gotta see my grave someday, no more cheddar, some pictures
Grandma I'm comin to spend forever wit'cha, I miss ya
No more Sunday dinners, wish you could see your grandson now
Got bigger, all grown now
Got a daughter think she grown now, just started walkin
Just started talkin, she can potty on her own now
Life is good, memories are better
We all gotta go, I know it's cold grab a sweater
We can take that ride together, cry whatever, die whatever
Walk through the sky together, huh
[The Game]
Open your eyes, we in a new era
Less drama more unity, everything's lookin a lil' clearer
Like a face in the mirror karma
It was right before our eyes, facin the future I cried
No more Martin Luther shots, from off the words from Malcolm
Tunes from Jimi, it's sad but you gotta hear me
All praises due to the mighty Allah, God forgive me
I've been through it, but it's not all bad in me
A young kid tryin to change his ways
Every day a lil' closer, show him the light let him pave the way
Gotta see my grave someday, no more cheddar, some pictures
Grandma I'm comin to spend forever wit'cha, I miss ya
No more Sunday dinners, wish you could see your grandson now
Got bigger, all grown now
Got a daughter think she grown now, just started walkin
Just started talkin, she can potty on her own now
Life is good, memories are better
We all gotta go, I know it's cold grab a sweater
We can take that ride together, cry whatever, die whatever
Walk through the sky together, huh
Truth Rap lyrics - The Game
Yeah, big spit, it's that Bay Area game, Sean T beats
We feedin the underground with this Yay Area tycoon shit
For my nigga JT Fig', y'all know where it come from
Never forget it, that Bay Area shit mayne
Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah!
Game, spit that shit
[The Game]
Hey yo the kid still at it, woke up from that coma
Seen hell came back and here comes my first classic
Still chop it up at the table, still put dope in the bag
and still got dope, under the mattress
It was hustle before rappin, nuttin before that and
12 years old, a lost soul, bumpin "Illmatic"
Gunshots tried and almost took the young kid's live
Can't do it I been through it the young kid survived
Got the ghetto on my shoulder homey, it's gon' be a long ride
Bear with me, I'ma take you there with me
Show you how the sun shine in one rhyme, no more stormy weather
Streets is mine, we gon' live forever
Get it together 'Pac is watchin, Big is listenin
Eazy is talkin to us, Big Pun is witnessin
While they souls still glistenin in ghettos from Compton to Brooklyn
the shells cry, every hood's anthem
Where everybody goes to church and prayers are never answered
And they throwin us curveballs but we Hank Aarons
A picture with no canvas, streets are so skanless
Young'uns jump rope, play ball with fiends and dope handlers
Teenage mothers, deadbeat fathers, no families
Lost and often runaway or live with grandparents
Life stories with no authors, see it through, {?} Robinson's cubicles
When time life is so beautiful
Walk with me we can make it if we try, lost soldiers sometimes
We gotta die but it's okay to cry
Mothers strugglin tryin to survive, reach out grab my hand
I got'cha, won't let you go for nuttin, I promise
Praises due to Elijah Muhammad, peace be unto Farad Muhammad
Words of Minister Farrakhan
Been true, be loyal, know your roots, water your soil
Stop fightin amongst ourself from birth we royal
Who's king we fightin over a crown, while lifeguards
watch the hopes and dreams of kids and young teens drown
More infants bein born with AIDS, more parents mournin graves
The plot thickens, somebody show us the way
Tears crackin the pavement, streets breakin up
The thrill is gone and it's a long walk home
So we might as well start runnin, if it's there gotta take it
'Member Jada said "We Gon' Make It"
And it shouldn't take 9/11 to bring our minds together
Shit rough we'll grind together
Light a candle we can shine forever or I can pass
So I won't miss Aaliyah's concert in heaven
Live life while we listen to my old heads
So I glow like the memory of Lisa 'Left Eye' Lopez
Through a six-seven Brougham, ride with me through the hood mayne
Where street lights flicker and Chuck Taylors hang
And nobody know they neighbor's name 'less they sell weed or cocaine
A lot of black clouds on a block but no rain
And Game got a lot to say, so they wanna take me down
in my own front yard like Marvin Gaye
Can't do it by myself, people need help
Keep on tryin to live healthy 'til the end of my days
And when I die won't lead my daughter astray, lookin from heaven
Watch my people drive my coffin through the Compton parade
[Verse Two]
I'm in the city where it's strange where killers follow direction
And trail witness protection to get a shot at they brain
Where the babies carry semis and swallow pills for power
Count paper for polly'n, penny-pinch for hours
Take sacks from cowards when the streets is watchin
Tuck guns in trunks cause real G's is boxin
Ain't no other options if you stand on your own two
And if you came to battle you can stand in the phone booth
Cause we don't wear capes in this part of the land
Cause every youngster from my block has been a part of the plan
I've been trainin since eighty-seven and famous since eighty-nine
Teaching came from the Nation, my spirit is from divine
When I, pass the word through these raps on beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, when I pass these beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, y'knahmtalkinbout people?
Make the track speak, "Truth Rap," get it right
"Truth Rap" mayne, for the people, get it right, "Truth Rap"
We feedin the underground with this Yay Area tycoon shit
For my nigga JT Fig', y'all know where it come from
Never forget it, that Bay Area shit mayne
Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah!
Game, spit that shit
[The Game]
Hey yo the kid still at it, woke up from that coma
Seen hell came back and here comes my first classic
Still chop it up at the table, still put dope in the bag
and still got dope, under the mattress
It was hustle before rappin, nuttin before that and
12 years old, a lost soul, bumpin "Illmatic"
Gunshots tried and almost took the young kid's live
Can't do it I been through it the young kid survived
Got the ghetto on my shoulder homey, it's gon' be a long ride
Bear with me, I'ma take you there with me
Show you how the sun shine in one rhyme, no more stormy weather
Streets is mine, we gon' live forever
Get it together 'Pac is watchin, Big is listenin
Eazy is talkin to us, Big Pun is witnessin
While they souls still glistenin in ghettos from Compton to Brooklyn
the shells cry, every hood's anthem
Where everybody goes to church and prayers are never answered
And they throwin us curveballs but we Hank Aarons
A picture with no canvas, streets are so skanless
Young'uns jump rope, play ball with fiends and dope handlers
Teenage mothers, deadbeat fathers, no families
Lost and often runaway or live with grandparents
Life stories with no authors, see it through, {?} Robinson's cubicles
When time life is so beautiful
Walk with me we can make it if we try, lost soldiers sometimes
We gotta die but it's okay to cry
Mothers strugglin tryin to survive, reach out grab my hand
I got'cha, won't let you go for nuttin, I promise
Praises due to Elijah Muhammad, peace be unto Farad Muhammad
Words of Minister Farrakhan
Been true, be loyal, know your roots, water your soil
Stop fightin amongst ourself from birth we royal
Who's king we fightin over a crown, while lifeguards
watch the hopes and dreams of kids and young teens drown
More infants bein born with AIDS, more parents mournin graves
The plot thickens, somebody show us the way
Tears crackin the pavement, streets breakin up
The thrill is gone and it's a long walk home
So we might as well start runnin, if it's there gotta take it
'Member Jada said "We Gon' Make It"
And it shouldn't take 9/11 to bring our minds together
Shit rough we'll grind together
Light a candle we can shine forever or I can pass
So I won't miss Aaliyah's concert in heaven
Live life while we listen to my old heads
So I glow like the memory of Lisa 'Left Eye' Lopez
Through a six-seven Brougham, ride with me through the hood mayne
Where street lights flicker and Chuck Taylors hang
And nobody know they neighbor's name 'less they sell weed or cocaine
A lot of black clouds on a block but no rain
And Game got a lot to say, so they wanna take me down
in my own front yard like Marvin Gaye
Can't do it by myself, people need help
Keep on tryin to live healthy 'til the end of my days
And when I die won't lead my daughter astray, lookin from heaven
Watch my people drive my coffin through the Compton parade
[Verse Two]
I'm in the city where it's strange where killers follow direction
And trail witness protection to get a shot at they brain
Where the babies carry semis and swallow pills for power
Count paper for polly'n, penny-pinch for hours
Take sacks from cowards when the streets is watchin
Tuck guns in trunks cause real G's is boxin
Ain't no other options if you stand on your own two
And if you came to battle you can stand in the phone booth
Cause we don't wear capes in this part of the land
Cause every youngster from my block has been a part of the plan
I've been trainin since eighty-seven and famous since eighty-nine
Teaching came from the Nation, my spirit is from divine
When I, pass the word through these raps on beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, when I pass these beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, y'knahmtalkinbout people?
Make the track speak, "Truth Rap," get it right
"Truth Rap" mayne, for the people, get it right, "Truth Rap"
Drop Ya Thangs lyrics - The Game (feat. JT)
[Chorus]
Drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
[Verse One: JT]
Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes
They all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits
Actin tough in the club ain't gon' get you home
Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon' get you domed
Still steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy
This nigga thank he Lil' Jon and his partner Scrappy
Goin dumb with his bitch so he don't like me
This ain't the South boy, we ain't crunk we go hyphy
You gotta know the rules, player let it go
You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do'
Rollin up this eight-nine gram I'm tryin to make a plan
Tuggin on yo' main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend
This time for escapade only make the tec a-spray
I'm in the parkin lot, standin by the Escalade
You got a problem we ain't fightin like a man
One-on-one with the Fig', get yo' face in the sand, nigga
[Chorus]
[Hook: JT]
Nigga you a bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
Bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
[Verse Two: JT]
Yo, Fig' never play with them guns, no you hear me
Fig' ain't shot nuttin up but kill spirits
Fig' ain't the one to be, scared of the losses
One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses
Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush
Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bust
I been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny Ken
Used to chuck 'em by the corner sto' whoever win
Them was my O.G.'s, and I was just a B.G.
Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?}
But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommy
But caught without they tommy get rushed like salami
Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.'s
We 'bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streets
Now, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise and
Real niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we do
I wanna bust you but homey let me ask you
Why you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast you
Moms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you
{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga
[Chorus + Hook]
[Verse Three: JT]
Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get cavi
Hell nah, she in the club wit'cho baby daddy
She got the coat on he bought you for yo' birthday (oh no!)
You kickin back, I'm 'bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch)
Team on preem' like he hangin out with 'Pac brother
And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter
And it was cool 'til this chick really got to trippin
Spittin drink in yo' face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?)
Zoked out like, fat boy you can't breathe
Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave
Bring her to the flo', teach her 'bout the Get Low
She gon' really know, mob her on the danceflo'
[Chorus + Hook]
[JT]
Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo' carloads of HP niggaz
that came to Fillmoe for y'all one-on-ones mayne, and y'all got it mayne
Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real big
They get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout nigga
to them three young Sunnydale niggaz
Nigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayne
And all y'all wanted was one-on-ones and y'all got it nigga
Stripes for that!
[Chorus + Hook]
Drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
[Verse One: JT]
Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes
They all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits
Actin tough in the club ain't gon' get you home
Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon' get you domed
Still steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy
This nigga thank he Lil' Jon and his partner Scrappy
Goin dumb with his bitch so he don't like me
This ain't the South boy, we ain't crunk we go hyphy
You gotta know the rules, player let it go
You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do'
Rollin up this eight-nine gram I'm tryin to make a plan
Tuggin on yo' main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend
This time for escapade only make the tec a-spray
I'm in the parkin lot, standin by the Escalade
You got a problem we ain't fightin like a man
One-on-one with the Fig', get yo' face in the sand, nigga
[Chorus]
[Hook: JT]
Nigga you a bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
Bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
[Verse Two: JT]
Yo, Fig' never play with them guns, no you hear me
Fig' ain't shot nuttin up but kill spirits
Fig' ain't the one to be, scared of the losses
One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses
Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush
Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bust
I been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny Ken
Used to chuck 'em by the corner sto' whoever win
Them was my O.G.'s, and I was just a B.G.
Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?}
But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommy
But caught without they tommy get rushed like salami
Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.'s
We 'bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streets
Now, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise and
Real niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we do
I wanna bust you but homey let me ask you
Why you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast you
Moms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you
{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga
[Chorus + Hook]
[Verse Three: JT]
Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get cavi
Hell nah, she in the club wit'cho baby daddy
She got the coat on he bought you for yo' birthday (oh no!)
You kickin back, I'm 'bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch)
Team on preem' like he hangin out with 'Pac brother
And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter
And it was cool 'til this chick really got to trippin
Spittin drink in yo' face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?)
Zoked out like, fat boy you can't breathe
Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave
Bring her to the flo', teach her 'bout the Get Low
She gon' really know, mob her on the danceflo'
[Chorus + Hook]
[JT]
Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo' carloads of HP niggaz
that came to Fillmoe for y'all one-on-ones mayne, and y'all got it mayne
Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real big
They get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout nigga
to them three young Sunnydale niggaz
Nigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayne
And all y'all wanted was one-on-ones and y'all got it nigga
Stripes for that!
[Chorus + Hook]
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