Block Wars lyrics -The Game

Know what the fuck be pissing me off? The other motherfuckers think they running my block. Jump off that fucking stoop, hit the fucking gate, nigga grab your burners it's time to go to war. I give the niggas a whole fucking clip every motherfucking round in this motherfucker you can get

Niggas run up on this red '64
You get a white tag on your big toe
These ain't punch lines, niggas kick doors
Leave your baby mama with her lip swole
All handguns, niggas pack light
Nigga's mouth loose but my strap tight
Niggas slide through and they bust first
We killin' everybody that night
Block wars, we bout that life
Scuffed J's and them fist fights
Dead bodies on dead bodies
Savage, that's what I live like
Go and chop a nigga head off
Fuck around, let the rounds hit you
Blood splattered on a nigga's [?]
All I had to do was give a signal
Magazines if you got an issue
Hit one nigga with the source
Hit two niggas with the vibe
Bitch I kill your vibe
It's a reason niggas can't fuck with ya
I'm a Compton nigga and I don't give a fuck
Nigga walk around with that pistol tucked
I do drive-bys out a Plenty truck

(Murder-murder)
Have you ever seen a murder?
(Murder-murder)
Boom-boom-boom, let 'em
Have you ever seen a murder?
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Got a chopper with some rounds on it
Boop-boop, hittin' everybody
Turn the corner for your mama house
Put a nigga in the trunk
Cock your shit and walk around the corner
Promise nigga this ain't what you want
Nigga ain't what you want
Nigga ain't what you want
Nigga ain't what you want
No, nigga ain't what you want
(Murder-murder)
Boop-boop-boop
(Murder-murder)

Pull up on your block, take that shit over
Stolen choppers out of stolen Rovers
Supernova bullets rippin' through Corollas
Pure shooter like DeMare DeRozan
Hot slugs but the jewelry frozen
12 gauges on the trap sofas
Naked bitches in the kitchen whippin' yola
Pockets fat like a young Oprah
Told the nigga he ain't want the clip
I'm filthy rich and still with the shit
His mama cryin' but his son a bitch
I had her view the body like she from the 6
Bullets ricochetin' all through the block
Nigga run his mouth like he knew the cops
I do the shootin' while the shooters watch
Then cook crack in a newer pot
Move me? Gotta move the block
That means take shots like it's Lou Dot
Niggas talkin' bout the game like it's ESPN
I'll put your ass with Stuart Scott
No conscious mind, the chronic got
My mind blown
I can't stop with the murder shit
Burn rubber, burn a clip
A lot of niggas died on [?] shit

Murder, murder, murder
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Have you ever seen a murder?
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Have you ever seen a murder?
Have you ever seen a dead body?
Got a chopper with some rounds on it
Boop-boop, hittin' everybody
Turn the corner for your mama house
Put a nigga in the trunk
Cock your shit and walk around the corner
Promise nigga this ain't what you want

Everybody lay the fuck down, you know who it is nigga. Ay, what the fuck you doing? Nigga come here nigga. Gun in your motherfucking mouth. Nigga put that motherfucking gun down before I smoke your motherfucking homie. Ay yo and get all this shit nigga. I'm about to kill this nigga, fuck you nigga. You dying too bitch ass nigga, nigga. Get the fuck out of here

Freeway lyrics - The Game

I'll read you a bedtime story, you can get your ass tucked in
Walking down Wilmington, my bandanna tucked in
Shooting out the window at my enemies, like fuck them
Empty out the clip then I'm hopping on that 110
Freeway, that i10 freeway
To that 405 freeway, and that 101 freeway

Get your fucking body tossed off that freeway
Only Cali nigga with a beard like Freeway
Well James Harden too, but you know where he stay
Where my heat stay, chop a nigga like a cheesecake over these gates
It's the projects, Pyrex for them objects, move waste so I flex
Lord of the Rings, told them text for them high bets
God bless the P9, stretch them niggas here today
Gone tomorrow, etch-a-sketch them niggas
18th streets to the grapes
Niggas catching bodies over Jordan 5 grapes
Is it worth it? Yeah when you born worthless
Catch the bus to Beverly Hills and snatch purses
Preachers calling serpents when they worship, so it's us against them
Let the steam hit the skin when that pot working
From random tears to chandeliers
Pouring 40s for my peers, but my enemies

I'll read you a bedtime story, you can get your ass tucked in
Walking down Wilmington, my bandanna tucked in
Shooting out the window at my enemies, like fuck them
Empty out the clip then I'm hopping on that 110
Freeway, that i10 freeway
To that 405 freeway, and that 101 freeway

Now I'm on that 105 freeway
Heading to that 710 freeway
Chickens on the move, nigga it's a relay
I got them unmarked bills in that briefcase with that new face in that blue tape
Throwing Wingstop up out my window
You don't like my flow, I guess it's time to switch the tempo
I can pull a model bitch inside of Bento, fresh as Mentos
Where you get them Js? Jordan sent those
Got my Glock cocked 'case a nigga think he fit those
Then his shit blow like it's endo, over them custom kicks though
Hot then cold, hot chain then froze, but it's play to end goal
Riding round in those
Red Octobers in July, got 'em, you lie, you ran puddles
Peyton Manning with the cannon, nigga no huddle
Noah butter, when you the king of the square, it's no trouble
When the city love you but them haters nigga

I'll read you a bedtime story, you can get your ass tucked in
Walking down Wilmington, my bandanna tucked in
Shooting out the window at my enemies, like fuck them
Empty out the clip then I'm hopping on that 110
Freeway, that i10 freeway
To that 405 freeway, and that 101 freeway

Get High lyrics - The Game

I'm like Method Man and Red Man with the swishers
Blowing chronic out my mouth while they taking pictures
I tell that bitch drop that ass like she hit the switches
I take the phone and take a selfie while I'm fuckin' bitches
Now bounce to a nigga that know Dre and O'Shea
I kill that pussy like OJ and no way a nigga gonna outsmoke me
I smoke more than B Real and that nigga Snoop D-O-double G
Throw up the Westside, even if your fuckin' rag on the left side
Tonight I'm fuckin' with you, to ice cubes in my cup
A little Henny, nigga with an attitude, what's up?
Yeah, '64 Impala and I'm outta there
Bitch riding shotgun, looking like a bobble head
Wait, wait, wait for a minute and let a nigga roll his blunt

If you still fuck with Dr. Dre, get high
If you miss 2Pac and Nate, let's get high
I mean, every time you come to LA, get high
Ain't it good to you? Hell yeah
The doc said I had a weed addiction
So I'm smoking this chronic with no prescription, get high
Break it down, get a blunt and twist it
Game got his own strain, Doc 2 edition, get high

When I say roll it up, roll it up trick
It's Aftermath, let 'em know who you fuckin' with
All we do is smoke and get high
We be having slips, let 'em smell this shit
35 Million and I still might sell this shit
Gray smoke, elephant
Look around this party, ain't this motherfucka hella lit?
These niggas is zeros, we came with pre-rolls
Same niggas used to moving kilos, get high
Yeah, all fuckin' day nigga
See me bouncin' in the six-six-tre
Like I won't let this motherfucka
Three-wheeling with a cloud of kush in my jaw
Thousand dollar blunts,w hat a nigga want?
Pistol grip pump, ride with it in the fuckin' trunk
California skunk, nigga this the funk
Top of the Roscoe's with the front, my impala, get high

If you still fuck with Dr. Dre, get high
If you miss 2Pac and Nate, let's get high
I mean, every time you come to LA, get high
Ain't it good to you? Hell yeah
The doc said I had a weed addiction
So I'm smoking this chronic with no prescription, get high
Break it down, get a blunt and twist it
Game got his own strain, Doc 2 edition, get high

Alameda lyrics - The Game

Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda

Nigga pause when you see us
Fat red laces in them Grant Hill Filas
Young misfits, born underachievers
Mama couldn't feed us, white sheets when you leave us
We be fucking with hood rats, gang bang divas
One braiding hair, one lacing my Adidas
Looking at them train tracks, niggas scared to cross 'em
Them same fucking train tracks run all the way to Slauson
Running from the T-Flats, tryna keep 'em off us
Look over my shoulder, pray to God that I lost 'em
Bust ninas and toss 'em, screaming out what what
Westside Compton, nigga we don't give a fuck fuck
Nigga preach, dead in the coffin
Let the preacher praise, paramedics bring us off
Nigga rest in peace, blowing reefer

Cedar Block Bompton Piru, that's on my see through
YG blowing speakers, riding down
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda

Cedar Block Bompton Piru, that's on my see through
YG blowing speakers, riding down
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda
Alameda, Alameda

Gutter lyrics - The Game

Let me walk through a day inside the dope spot
Bullet proof cars like the pope got
Fingers knockin' at my door, 6AM
I hope not
That shit be fuckin' with the business when the stove hot
Well look at me in the kitchen with the stove top
Ziplock bag, distribution to the whole block
Shit the whole city
We got the Paris Hilton, make your nose pretty
Make them fat hoes skinny
You got the smoke, we supply the chimney
Then we on the porch sippin' Mickeys like I know Minnie
Bitch lookin' for mollies? Tell her I got plenty
I'm in that cherry red Chevy right outside Denny's
You know me, lowkey
Window cracked and he blowin' that Ashton Kutch
Like he macked Demi
You gun talkin'? See that black semi
Blood spillin' blood on them black pennys nigga that's gutter

Gutter, gutter
Nigga that's gutter
Gutter, gutter
Keep it gutter

Guess that's my mind frame
Niggas can't kill me cause they ain't tryna find Game
Even if they was I'm at the Staples, Louboutin frames
Feet on the wood, nigga I could trip Lebron James
I keep it hood
Bandana with that bang bang
Red rag .45, that's the same thing
I take the same route home in the same lane
Same car, same nigga, just the fame changed
I walk around like I never heard the same Game
Watch Menace To Society but caine caine
Then I became king leader of the chain gang
Still park my Rolls Royce and hop back on the same train
Then hop out on the same street
Where the dealers and the fiends eat
Where the killers and the everything in-between meet
Get your face covered with that white sheet
That nigga died over Twitter beef
Tryna keep it gutter

Tryna keep it gutter
Keep it gutter
Tryna keep it gutter
Gutter, gutter
Nigga that's gutter

Uzis And Grenades lyrics - The Game (feat. Lorine Chia)

[Lorine Chia:]
Somebody running outside, yelling 18
Somebody running outside, yelling 18
Somebody running outside, yelling 18
Somebody running outside, yelling 18
Somebody running outside, yelling 187, aye where the party at?
When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day, where the party at?
Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
If you want it, you can come and get some
If you got it, you can pay the ransom, where the party at?

[The Game:]
In the Bentley truck talking on my Nokia
I be selling out the Nokia
Got twins if you know Tia, then you know Kia
Balling bitches ride Benz's, nigga, no gears
On my way to the lip, bumping on a lid
With a bitch that look like Pia Mia, nigga you should see her
Head like Sia, diamonds in her ear
Sipping brandy, plus the money long like Nia
And I feel like that went over your head
And I don't think you understood what I said
See Brandy was Nia Long's name in Boys In the Hood
Translation: dope boy in the hood
Get the packages out, the fiends is running the Rams is back
The Rams still go, the niggas getting jacked
The cops is circling, niggas is murdering
Dead bodies everywhere, that's just Compton nigga

[Lorine Chia:]
Somebody running outside, yelling 187, aye, where the party at?
When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day, where the party at?
Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
If you want it, you can come and get some
If you got it, you can pay the ransom, where the party at?

[The Game:]
Riding with a G bitch, smoking on a G stick
In a G wagon, I'm always on some G shit
Used to be in G rides, bumping Warren G shit
Used to be in G5s, now I'm in the G6
Used to be in GRs, now I'm with some G-Stars
Couple G's in every pocket, sitting where the G's are
Used to be in UG Village with my G ma
Hand on the Jesus, RIP to my G-Pa
See life is up and down like a seesaw
And everybody working tryna get they RiRi off
You got pregnant teens and absent fathers
Outta town niggas they clapped regardless
It's a trap for the young
If you ever answer wrong when they ask where you from
And niggas gotta watch them colors
They say banging played 'til they get they bodies verified by their mothers

[Lorine Chia:]
Somebody running outside, yelling 187, aye, where the party at?
When the drug dealers and the fiends outside all day, where the party at?
Uzis and grenades, we flocking handguns
If you want it, you can come and get some
If you got it, you can pay the ransom, where the party at?

Lights Go Out lyrics - The Game

Walkin' out the pen with my pen, live a life of sin
Tell the devil throw me a shovel and let's get it in
2015 MC Ren, this ain't a movie
Pull my khaki suit back out the closet and burn this Louie
Tell Young Thug come out the closet, the fuck you foolin'?
Where my crips, my bloods, my esses? Let's make some music
That the gangsters can dance to
Throw up your hands too
The indians is back, we want our motherfuckin' land too
The black Slim Shady is back with some M80s
In the back of the Mercedes
About to blow this motherfucker like a meth lab
Smokin' on that same bomb chronic Dre and Meth had
You know I got the best bag
Now watch me teach the world how to roll a blunt for the last time
Welcome to Cali where smoking's our favorite past time
And if a nigga need a gun he can mack mine
And everything inside

Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out

You see bitches on all fours
Switchers on all cars
Got used to drivin' them Bentley's
I guess I got off course
Got used to fuckin' them bitches
Used to 'em rollin' my blunts
In the studio with Doc, ain't see them hoes in months
I've been shacked up on LSU
Goin' crazy on LSD in a straight jacket, don't mess with me
Till I finish this album
Now I step inside the party with Hennessy and Bacardi
Pour a ziplock of mollies out [?]
I'm a lunatic
Disturb the peace like Ludacris
Me and Dre bump heads cause he give me advice
I never listen to that shit
He said don't put out mixtapes and I did that
He said leave his car parked right there
I stripped that, drove that
In the Lambo, blunts rolled fat
Pull up to the club like where the hoes at
Take a ho and fuck her, then ask a bitch where your clothes at
The door right there
I don't need you bitches, see the iPhone?
There's some more right there
Here's a glass for your tears, let 'em all right there
Compton, I was born right there
Park the red Lambo right there
Sign to the man right there
25 mil, more nightmares
Now I'm fuckin' everybody bitch
You think you got her on lock but you don't

Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out
Cause when the lights go out

Run It lyrics - The Game

Tell them niggas run it
Tell them niggas
I got the weight of the world on my shoulders
We born killers, yeah we sold this
Them Compton niggas be the coldest so tell them niggas run it
I grew up on Rosecrans and nigga, you know it
Start tripping in cannons, start popping like Moet
No time for heroics, you pay if you owe it
Run it, tell them niggas
I got the weight of the world on my shoulders
We born killers, yeah we sold this
Them Compton niggas be the coldest so tell them niggas run it
Mama grew up the Hoovers, my daddy was raised in the Nutties
I ain't give a fuck 'bout what they did, just as long as they love me

LA be pretty just like in the movies, at night it get ugly
So I walk around with my Gotti and Angel
My Chucks below and my grandma above me
I love the Bulls but my neighborhood Cripping
So I'm walking home, I'mma die for this pimping
Cause niggas get ran for they Jordans and niggas get ran for they starters
When niggas get tired of fighting and squabbling with fools (nigga went and bought a AK)

Run It
Tell them niggas run it
Tell them niggas
I got the weight of the world on my shoulders
We born killers, yeah we sold this
Them Compton niggas be the coldest so tell them niggas run it
I grew up on Rosecrans and nigga, you know it
Start tripping in cannons, start popping like Moet
No time for heroics, you pay if you owe it

Run it
I got the weight of the world on my shoulders
We born killers, yeah we sold this
Them Compton niggas be the coldest so tell them niggas run it
I grew up on Rosecrans and nigga, you know it
Start tripping in cannons, start popping like Moet
No time for heroics, you pay if you owe it
Tell them niggas run it

Bullet With Your Name On It lyrics - The Game

I got a bullet with your name on it
You 'bout to have a hoodie with a motherfucking stain on it
Dashboard with your brain on it
Motherfucking bitch, you worried bitch nigga tell yo mama put a frame on it

Know it's murder, if The Game on it
Irv Gotti with the flame on it
I'm in the coupe, know the roof and it smell like Mary Jane, don't it?
Balmain crew neck, [?] with the chain on it
Goddamn, I'm the motherfucking man
Tote drums like a motherfucking band
So fly, I don't know where to land
So fly, motherfucking Peter Pan
You put the city on your back like a motherfucking tat
Damn nigga, you can stand where I stand
You can eat where I eat
I got a house on the beach but I run these streets
100 grand every week
10 mil in the safe, so you know where I sleep
Put a pillow by the combo
Band arms like I'm Mutombo
Ears to the street like Dumbo
High school on El Segundo
So you ain't gotta ask where I'm from though
Hit the corner on Cedar, polo beater
Run up on a nigga like pronto
Run up on a nigga like Wingstop
Lemon pepper wings when the motherfucking beam hot
Got the molly, got the white and the lean locked
Selling dreams on my grandmama grandpop

I got a bullet with your name on it
You 'bout to have a hoodie with a motherfucking stain on it
Dashboard with your brain on it
I got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
Goddamn, I'm the motherfucking man
Got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
I got a bullet with your name on it

(You know what the fuck be pissing me off? That other motherfuckers think they run my block. Nigga, this my block, nigga I don't give a fuck who on this motherfucker. Grannies, kids, nigga old people, dogs, cats, I don't give a fuck when I'm walking through the block, nigga everybody moving. You don't understand, nigga, this is my motherfucking block. Anything can die, nigga, we killing motherfucking flowers, we killin' air, we'll put bullet holes in clouds, niggas gon' move when we coming down the block. Get the fuck off that stoop!)

I'm a fucking alcoholic
I'm on Rosecrans & Central
In the Tam's drive thru
And I got murder on my mental
Lord please forgive me
Please forgive me
I say Lord please forgive me
Please forgive me

(You with the shit? Then you gotta show me you with the shit, nigga. Jump off that fuckin' stoop, hit the fuckin' gate, nigga. Grab your burners, it's time to go to war. Nigga, it's a block war, it's my motherfuckin' block. It ain't yours, yours, his, hers, it ain't nobodies but mine! If you wanna stay on this motherfuckin' block, you standing behind me and I grip this motherfuckin' trigger and I start giving it to niggas like ugh! ugh! ugh!)

I got a bullet with your name on it
You 'bout to have a hoodie with a motherfucking stain on it
Dashboard with your brain on it
I got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
Goddamn, I'm the motherfucking man
Got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
I got a bullet with your name on it

(Can't nobody stop what the fuck I'm doing. Lay that shit the fuck down, everybody get down, nigga, ah! You don't want none of this shit, nigga! I'll give a nigga the whole fuckin' clip. Every motherfuckin' round in this motherfucker you can get. I'm breaking windows, I'm tearing hinges off of fuckin doors. I'm flipping motherfuckin cars, trucks, ambulances. This is my motherfuckin block! Lay it down!)

You 'bout to have a hoodie with a motherfucking stain on it
Dashboard with your brain on it
I got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
Goddamn, I'm the motherfucking man
Got a bullet with your name on it
Know it's murder, if The Game on it
I got a bullet with your name on it

Murder lyrics - The Game

I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
Murder, murder
Murder, murder
Murder, murder
Murder, murder

I got choppers on that South Beach
That pistol talk when your mouth leak
Got a black Impala on Collins nigga
Got a Glock in air, standing in the back seat, I'm wildin' nigga
Long money, fuck a rubber band
On a paper chase, I do the running man
Stealth black chopper with the infrared beam on
50 round drum, if I run out of bullets, hit a nigga with the nina
Better hit a nigga with the scope
Bet he won't talk with his back on the rope
Floyd Mayweather with the chopper
When a nigga get to choppin' put a razor blade at a nigga throat
I don't fuck with no scared niggas
I never did and I never will
Let the Glock go bang, now you Kurt Cobain
Knock a nigga right out of real

I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
You shinin', we shinin'
You timin', we timin'
You grindin', we grindin'
We got cash money and diamonds
You shinin', we shinin'
You timin', we timin'
You grindin', we grindin'
We got cash money and diamonds

Take a nigga back to Compton and chop a nigga body up
Take a trip to East LA and chop a new Maserati up
Take my black Bugatti, [?] on green leaf
Then hit Crenshaw doin' 300, nigga Chief Keef
Ridin' down Crenshaw, stuntin' with my bitch though, ballin'
I'm from Compton, she from Watts, but we both got pistols
Blowin' trees with the top down, word to YG
If you don't want a problem motherfucker, why speak?
Niggas kill my nigga Puff, tell them niggas drop me
Keep two K's in the back, shotty in the front and the chrome side beach
No disrespect to the Dogg or the city Long Beach
But I'm the king out here, motherfucker on me

I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it
I don't see nothing, I heard you talking about it
Pull up with Stunna leaning in that Bugatti
No we ain't trippin', I know you ain't about it
But I got my nina, don't leave the crib without it

soundtrack: "Streets Of Compton" (2016)

Support Compton lyrics - The Game (feat. J3 & Payso)

[Game:]
I grew up off of Wilmington and Rosecrans
Where nigga's drink 4-0 cans and throw it up with both hands
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I'm from where them niggas in the trenches
Sit back, get they hair braided and analyze Kendrick
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I kick it where niggas do drive-bys all day
And bought a pair of Beats just because they fuck with Dre
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga

[J3:]
I grew up off of Rosecrans and Central
Tam's Burger on the corner, slip up and get your issue
Drum fully loaded, probably catch 'em walking
Die for your name, get a blue or a cherry coffin
Pray for the homie moms, why she had to lose her son
We gon' make 'em pay the price for what they done
Organized crime, go on a mission weekly
187, man-down completely
Grew up off food stamps and swim through blood baths
Sheriffs hop out, point guns, searching your nutsacks
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton
That's what Crips call it, but 'round here this Bompton
I ain't politicking, I ain't sneaking dissing
I'm really for my section, creeping up Wilmington
With my locs concealing weapons
Fucked with K. Dot back when he had the waves
And been supporting games since the Aftermath chain
Support Compton

[Game:]
I grew up off of Wilmington and Rosecrans
Where nigga's drink 4-0 cans and throw it up with both hands
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I'm from where them niggas in the trenches
Sit back, get they hair braided and analyze Kendrick
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I kick it where niggas do drive-bys all day
And bought a pair of Beats just because they fuck with Dre
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga

[Payso:]
It started in Martin Luther King
Pocket of the Crip
Before I knew anything
Married to the block
Pinkie ring for my wedding ring
Yeah we right here on Nord Street
The hood core street
I be in the hood, you ain't gotta force me
And I just thank God my momma didn't abort me
Cause she was only fourteen
But that's a different story
Whole family's running frutas and they support me
The Pirus support me, the Crips support me
Your bitch support me, hit a lick just to support those that was for me
My nigga Frogg was for me, D-Rock was for me
Niggas phony but I know my niggas watching for me
Cause I done had some close cases
Wrong time, right places
My life, I ain't finna let 'em take it
My mind, I ain't finna let 'em take it
From El Segundo to Rosecrans
They know who run the program

[Game:]
I grew up off of Wilmington and Rosecrans
Where nigga's drink 4-0 cans and throw it up with both hands
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I'm from where them niggas in the trenches
Sit back, get they hair braided and analyze Kendrick
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
Support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga
I kick it where niggas do drive-bys all day
And bought a pair of Beats just because they fuck with Dre
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton
We support Compton, support Compton, support Compton nigga

They be like "Dre ain't from Compton
Cube ain't from Compton"
You niggas dumb
I be the type nigga to ask them niggas asking where they from
Yeah I be trippin', de-boning niggas
Cruising through the hood like fuck you
C-lo them niggas
'64 in my garage, only drop the top on Saturday
Reminiscing to 96 when I was running through a rat a day
Compton High with the A.I braids
Over the Summer came with Junior Seau waves
Compton ain't shit, get a nigga fucked up and jumped
Race riots with the ese's but that ain't what you want
Red and blue bandanas knotted at the front
Welcome to the home of the pistol grip pump
Compton

Roped Off lyrics - The Game (feat. Problem & Boogie)

[Hook - The Game:]
Compton boulevard, Wilmington
Rosecrans, Central
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Don't get this motherfucker roped off

Compton boulevard, Wilmington
Rosecrans, Central
Y'all gon' get this motherfucker roped off
Y'all gon' get this motherfucker roped off

[Verse 1 - The Game:]
Posted on Brazil and Wilmington
Red flag, red khakis, red Pendleton
Cold steel got 'em trembling
Stomp a nigga out (In what?) in my Timberlands
Red dot on your head, nigga
Either you work at 7/11 or you dead, nigga
Your auntie stay around here but you don't
Your cousins might make it out the hood, but nigga you won't
Fresh out the barber shop, RIP to G man
West Side Bompton, my city's been on C-SPAN
My hood's been on CNN, my hood's been on watch
My city's in the middle of Long Beach and Watts
I'm at the Tam's Burgers, eating fries
Now how many niggas done died eating number 5?
Been shot a couple times, but I'm alive
Hub City hustler, I'll show you how to survive, nigga

[Hook - The Game:]
Compton boulevard, Wilmington
Rosecrans, Central
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Don't get this motherfucker roped off

Compton boulevard, Wilmington
Rosecrans, Central
Y'all gon' get this motherfucker roped off
Y'all gon' get this motherfucker roped off

[Verse 2 - Problem:]
Wear Chucks, don't gang bang, I fuck baddies
I'll show you how to stuff 100 P's in turkey baggies
Rubber gloves, dark spray, no khakis
Riding steel, tell Jesus fall flabby
L's come bro I'm relapsing to the old days
In and out of spouses, middle manning the cocaine
Finger on the trigger cause niggas ain't trynna fight
And bitches ain't shit, so niggas ain't trynna wife nothing
Who needs love? Million dollar weed plugs
Heart cold as Sunset, RIP to Key Club
Hoes never ease up, D2B
Nigga thought he was a foolie 'til he seen me!
West Side baby, ain't tripping off nothin'
Going out a winner like Peyton
Still 100, like Daytons, gold or the chrome
Same 'til a nigga gone like Martin and Jerome

[Hook - The Game:]
Compton Boulevard, Wilmington, Rosecrans, Central
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Compton Boulevard, Wilmington, Rosecrans, Central
Ya'll gon' get this motherfucker roped off
Ya'll gon' get this motherfucker roped off

[Verse 3 - Boogie:]
Aye man, just tell God come and lift me
Come and talk to the devil, man this nigga stay busy
Don't ever get it twisted, just cause we don't wear Dickies
You ain't heard of Mausberg, you know you ain't from the city
Man, I was born in this problem
We thought we knew the answer way before we seen options
Do you know the feeling to have niggas out watching
With your kid out shopping, you gon' still yell "Bompton!"?
Man, I done lost hope
Hope you a Thug to the Bone when we Cross Roads
Too many RIP shirts around your turf, wait
We trying to figure why ya'll got mid in the first place
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, know my niggas on the wait
Wait, wait, wait, know somebody finna pay
Finna hit Stanford, man I just left the A
We don't recognize your car, you ain't coming in the gate
On West Side Bompton

[Hook - The Game:]
Compton Boulevard, Wilmington, Rosecrans, Central
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Don't get this motherfucker roped off
Compton Boulevard, Wilmington, Rosecrans, Central
Ya'll gon' get this motherfucker roped off
Ya'll gon' get this motherfucker roped off

Hit The News lyrics - The Game

40 ounces ain't the only thing poppin'
'Round here we get it clockin' when the things start knockin'
Low lows ain't the only thing droppin'
Bodies hit the ground, tires screeching niggas yell "Compton!"
Like ooh, ooh
Them niggas hoppin' out of coupés, coupés
Fuck you thought nigga? They tryna' overuse the shotty
Shit I'm tryna' hit the news with the shotty

I am from where the niggas say "What'd up Cuh?"
You can get your ass wet up by "One Blood?"
And I bet they just saw El Chapo
And you can get your noodles spilled right up in your taco
And you can get your taco turnt into some nachos
All over cheese my nigga
What's beef my nigga? Ridin' by slow mo
Bullet holes in Caine and Sharif my nigga!
Fuck peace my nigga! Cause every time we try that
We get smoked by police my nigga
I am bringing sheets my nigga
Went from being skinny and gettin' jacked for my Penny's to a beast my nigga

40 ounces ain't the only thing poppin'
'Round here we get it clockin' when the things start knockin'
Low lows ain't the only thing droppin'
Bodies hit the ground, tires screeching niggas yell "Compton!"
Like ooh, ooh
Them niggas hoppin' out of coupés, coupés
Fuck you thought nigga? They tryna' overuse the shotty
Shit I'm tryna' hit the news with the shotty

I want the zooms zooms and wam wams, bricks in the Trans Am
Shooters on first, second and third, that's a grand slam
These rap niggas Fruit Loops; Toucan Sam
When I say so, bloods rush like a handstand
And ain't with that old Death Row shit
Been bangin' since '94, I ain't never did no hoe shit
Type of nigga I am, empty out the whole clip
Call my YG's and have em' run through your whole shit
Who was before Kendrick, who was before Nip?
Middle of the Slauson, did my shit fighting four Crips
You win some and you lose some nigga
You break knuckles and you bruise some nigga, what?

40 ounces ain't the only thing poppin'
'Round here we get it clockin' when the things start knockin'
Low lows ain't the only thing droppin'
Bodies hit the ground, tires screeching niggas yell "Compton!"
Like ooh, ooh
Them niggas hoppin' out of coupés, coupés
Fuck you thought nigga? They tryna' overuse the shotty
Shit I'm tryna' hit the news with the shotty

Bullshit lyrics -The Game

Ay who got all these niggas walking around
With all this motherfuckin' air in they chest?
Oh, you pumpin' your motherfucking self up, huh?

You know I'm with the bullshit, ay
You know I'm with the bullshit
Niggas know I'm with the bullshit
You know I'm with the bullshit

Pull up, park the Camaro like an arrow
Only fuck with Snoop, nigga fuck your cousin Harold
Plus I got the barrel on tuck, nigga what
First nigga jump up, first nigga fucked up
I'm with the bullshit, Jimmy Butler in the cutlass
Hop out, get yo ass beaten, no mustard
Hood full of killers, Cedar Block, no busters
Say we gon' do it, but we ain't, don't trust us
Get your ass robbed out here
By a nigga name Rob out here with no job out here
We with the bullshit, Burgundy sob out here
Get smoked if ever say slob out here
Nigga this Piru, I'm advertising like a commercial
Hand me your hood pass, pat you down then murk you
Nigga we still mad Doughboy killed Virgil
Blood this ain't no motherfuckin' movie

You know I'm with the bullshit, ay
You know I'm with the bullshit
Niggas know I'm with the bullshit
You know I'm with the bullshit

40 days, 40 nights
If I ever lose a muthafuckin' fight
You in the pen', say good night
Get your ass strangled with the motherfuckin' kite
I am with the bullshit, save them motherfuckin' tears
You bunk down with the nigga that ain't had pussy in years
He with the bullshit, fuck you gon' go?
Nigga where the fuck you gon' go when he made you his hoe
Now you switchin' in the pen
Through the glass talking to your mama, bitchin in the pen'
Ohh you snitchin' in the pen?
Your lawyer stuck you on the pen', nigga just stick you in the pen' (ohh)
My nigga Reek doing 30
And I got gun that he did murder with, it's still dirty
And I heard from a little birdy, niggas wanna problems
Jump in my Impala, skrrt!

You know I'm with the bullshit, ay
You know I'm with the bullshit
Niggas know I'm with the bullshit
You know I'm with the bullshit