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from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game / Clean Version (2004) | |||||
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from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol.2 (2004)
(Featuring Sauce Money/Memphis Bleek/The Game)
[Intro: DJ KaySlay] Yeah it's DJ KaySlay the Drama King I'm in the house with my nigga Sauce Money Memphis Bleek, holdin it down from the East coast And from the West, I got my nigga Game All you bitch-ass niggaz, y'all better fall the fuck back Y'all know how this shit is about to go down Yo homie, what's your name? [Sauce Money] My name is Money, that much is true Listen up, this what I'm gon' do I won't wait for you to get a lil' bigger I hit you with the tec-9, lil' nigga Look at him - red as a muh'fucker Hah! Dead as a muh'fucker Unassisted - aiyyo you shoulda Been there Bleek, too late, you missed it Cock back my biscuit Like a fat chick and chocolate, I can't resist it Didn't believe you, so for your big ol' ego I got a big ol' Eagle Gotta give the people Not a fuckin chance to see you inside the sequel Son I stay stuck in rude So when they see me comin they like, "Damn, here come this fuckin dude!" You know'm sayin Memph'? Brooklyn what's up? Got to take this shit back Let's hit 'em with the hook son [Chorus: Memphis Bleek] Sawed-off shotgun, hand on the pump Sippin that Arme', puffin on a blunt All I know is my shit better bump La la la la la-la la lahhhh [Memphis Bleek] What, yo yo. You know Bleek always smokin that "La La La" - you right Groupies they be actin too crazy, tell 'em they too hype They want leave with a G like Eas' Educated the bullshit, got a degree in these streets But - I dare a nigga act all crazy The tec'll tear his back all crazy And you know I stay bent off the Arme' Regardless if solo or I'm deep with my amry I rep - straight from the jacked M-P If I put the tec up I gotta tote the D.E But wait! You know I'm ridin with Sauce And we ridin this song from out the Robb Report Dawg, I'm from the street, from the best I'm taught I'll get your man tied and lost, fuck the cost Got a couple of my killers who stand by And I'm G-Force stat' nigga, never fly stand-by Uhh, jeah, you know Put this shit right back in the street, huh? Brooklyn shit, Sauce Let's bring the hook back, here we go yo [Chorus] [The Game] Dip through N-Y, black Impala, matchin interior Cali plates, I'm that serious Niggaz think the kid a joke 'til that .38-revolver spin like hundred spokes Homie I bring the drama (drama) Sleep on The Game and get left in wooden pajamas Nigga I ain't easy son But I break up rock/Roc like DipSet and M-Easy son I'm a B-L-double-O-D Hardest nigga since S-N-double-O-P And all this beef got blood in my eye Aftermath motherfucker, you could love it or die Keep Dre name out your mouth boy Or get your +Bones Crushed+ like them Dirty South boys I'm a "Menace," fuck Kane and O-Dog Since I was ten I had 'caine and O's, dawg I ain't lyin (I ain't lyin) They gave Eazy AIDS, so why should I give a FUCK about dyin? And the day Jay retire I'ma park next to the throne, in a Maybach on gold wires, yeah [Chorus] [Outro: DJ KaySlay] Yeah you bitch-ass motherfuckers "Hands on the Pump" Fuck around, find yo' ass slump One hitta quitta, yes [gunshots] |
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from Dj Kayslay - The Streetsweeper Vol. 2 - The Pain From The Game (2004) | |||||
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from Alchemist - 1st Infantry (2004) | |||||
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Verse 1)
To all my niggas on the porch getting their hair braided Corn rolled by a L.A. bitch And I can't forget My niggas riding the train Yankee fitted Thermals under that Pelle shit I love New York but gangbanging that's L.A. shit And I'm proud of it Spit it through the wire so the crowd love it Haters you know who you are you can turn it down fuck it I can shoot a video to it and spend half the budget I'm gangsta, let the .40 cal blow in public More hatred inside my soul than Pac had for Delores Tucker Every time one of my niggas get shot the more I suffer Cause we trapped inside a world where your forced to die for your colors I seen it all through the Range tints Got niggas doing life in the state pen So I dread like Jamaicans If I die for one of my statements Than break up the streets of Compton and spill my blood in the pavement (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down And then I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down And then I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal (Verse 2) Who I gotta talk to who I gotta write Get my reebok deal done Or Im staying in Air Nikes Aiight, I handle bars you ain't gotta ride a bike To peep game and his skill here go some training wheels Let's roll Through the city of god Where LA niggas train to kill Chop you up hundred times worse than the Haitians will For real naw Pharrell I need a track homie Dre we to close aint no turning back homie Deal with it I'm a be here for ten years Spittin like the ghost of Eric Wright and Big yeah Let me paint this picture While you sit here thinking in the back of your mind this is the shit yeah I spit for you niggas doing 25 on they 5th year ready to throw a nigga off the 5th tier Them white boys in the Abercrombie and Fitch gear And every nigga who ever helped me get here (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they gon lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Talking that shit like they gon lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal (Verse 3) One brick, two brick The boy moving weight Now three bricks, four bricks I'm driving upstate Five Bricks, six bricks The nigga got cake Not rap money, but money been rap since ‘88 Look at the world we live in Niggas steady hate, to the heckler at Koch Leave him chopped up like freddy's face Niggas catching feelings Cause I'm about millions And outta all the newcomers out, my flow's the illest You a close second nigga, A banana to a guerilla Put us in the same cage and I'ma have to peel ‘em The best of both worlds Rapping and drug dealing Run and tell the chief I came to burn down the village The head honcho, staring out the third story window Of my Beverly Hills condo With two long ass heats I call ‘em Shaq and Alonzo You niggas want me outta L.A. Yeah I know (Hook) Believe me niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up Talking that shit like they gon' lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal Niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up Talking that shit like they gon' lay me down And when I come through strapped to see what's up Niggas really don't know parts of me pal |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(The Game)
Yo Havoc, I'm too close to the edge on this one nigga I ain't gon' jump though, I'ma keep it raw gutter Yo Prodigy, you know I need you on this one nigga (The Game) I got shit on my chest, I must confess Last night I was the nigga that shot up your projects Now I'm back in the hood, with rocks in the Pyrex Tan khakis and them Nike Airs with the dyed checks I was forced to live this life, forced to bust my chrome My pops left me in a foster home I felt abandoned like Quik now that Mausberg gone So I don't hop in the SS without the Mossberg homes I've been rappin for a year and a half, my life is real Put the gun in his mouth, he gon' bite the steel Come to Compton, I got stripes for real Before Dre, before the ice, before the deal - I was almost killed Like 'Pac before the Death Row deal I got shot over two pounds of weed, still ain't found them niggaz But karma come quicker for a nigga on the other side of the gun That's somethin I gotta teach my son (Chorus: Faith Evans) I don't need your love, no no no no I don't need your love Need it, I don't want it, I don't need it I don't need your love, no I don't need your love I don't need your love Cause, the, game, don't, change (The Game) I heard they got Bloods in New York now Red rags in Uptown Harlem now, I need that love Front court at the Knicks game, new chick, French name New car, new house, and sometimes friends change And you don't need that love, when you G's like us And your Jesus piece is sim-u-lar to Biggie's And your life story is sim-u-lar to 50's First they hate you, then they love you, then they hate you again What the fuck do it take for a gangsta to win? No mics, no +Unsigned Hype+, nigga *FUCK* The Source Plus them awards I don't need And them niggaz breathin the same air as me, actin like they don't bleed We don't drive the same speed, this a Continental T That's a case of Armadale, this a continental suite So I'ma drown in my own sorrows Live life, fuck tomorrow, nigga cause reality is (Chorus w/ variations + ad libs) (The Game) I was gassed up, Murder Inc., Roc-A-Fella passed up Sat in Daddy's House with Black Rob and Lou and asked Puff Now The Game set in stone, the Frank Muniz set in stones Dre cut me a check, I'm gone Tryin to be the king of the streets, niggaz'll wet your throne But I got nieces to feed, two coasts to please So I roam through the city like the ghost of E Gotta put Compton back where it's 'sposed to be Nuttin between all my niggaz that's close to me In the streets with two fellas packin toast for me I'm 'posed to be, got all the critics watchin my pivot On my block in the Coupe readin kites from prison I got niggaz doin life in prison All my fallen soldiers is one of the reasons we pour out liquor So this song is for Ms. Wallace, Afeni Shakur And all the mothers of dead sons that went out in the war (Chorus - 2X w/ variations + ad libs) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Mary)
Can't wait til we make real love Because these conjugal visits just ain't enough I'm really lookin forward to a future for us, Baby don't worry bout it, ima be right here, waitin on you Even took a second job So they won't take the cars and put a lean on the house I know it's gonna be a while before you get out Baby don't worry about it, ima be right here, waitin on you And them dudes you ran wit are foul They been tryna get at me, ever since you been down Even my girls are tellin me, I should end it all now Baby don't worry bout it, ima be right here, waitin on you (Game) All I can think about is that honey complexion And the way your skin glow when you slip on them D&R dresses I know you wonderin why I got you a Smith & Wesson Cuz them niggaz in the hood is the reason we stressin I miss that gangsta lovin and that lil affection And butter soft lips when you kissin my chest and Mary I put nothin above you, And behind that vest I gotta heart ma, gangstas need love too (Mary) Some think the worst of you They betray you as a man it's not that far from the truth You were caught up in the game and now it's caught up to you Baby don't worry about it, ima be right here, waiting on you (Game) It use to be caramel skin tones, spreewell rims on Glasshouse, ass out, Jacob watch, gems stones Bandana, Nike airs, tennis bracelet, wife here Black rag, do or die 45 right here Everytime i was down you was always right here Whenever visitin hours came, i know my wife there So pink diamonds right there, Chain hang ice there The reason for my tatooed tear I need you to hold me down (Mary) I'll be waiting on you (I) I'll be waitin on you (ima be right here whenever you call me) I'll be waiting on you (ooh) Baby don't worry bout it, ima be right here, waitin on you (Game) I'm locked up countin the days down Tryna hold my head cuz the penitentiary ain't no playground I'm dyin in here ion know how you stay down In the shootin range twice a week bussin that tre pound I would neva ask you to wait around But how do a white sandy beach, in Sandro Pe sound And no more out of town trips on the greyhound Just me hittin like a beat from Dr. Dre out (Mary) I'll be waiting on you (I'll be waiting) I'll be waiting on you (ima be right here for you baby) I'll be waiting on you (I'll) Baby don't worry about it (don't worry baby) ima be right here, waitin for you I'll be waiting on you (ima be right here waitin for you baby) I'll be waiting on you (you know I'll) I'll be waiting on you (whenever you need me) Baby don't worry about it, ima be right here, waitin on you I'm lookin for a future with u baby, I wanna see you real soon, real soon real soon, I'll be right there, I'll be right there Baby don't worry about it (don't worry) ima be (don't worry) right here (don't worry) waiting on you (ooh) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
((background music) i brought.. i brought.. i brought.. dreams... dreams... dreams... i brought you all my dreams... cuz i love you... i love you.. i love you.. (repeated throughout song))
(Verse 1) I woke up out that coma, 2001 Bout the same time Dre dropped 2001 Three years later, the album is done Aftermath presents: "Nigga With a Attitude : Volume 1" Rap critics politicin' Wanna know the outcome Ready to Die, Reasonable Doubt and Doggystyle in one I feel like Pac after the Snoop Dogg trial was done Dre behind that G-Series and All Eyez On Me I watched the death of a dynasty So I told Vibe Magazine Workin' with Dr.Dre was a "DREAM!" I had visions of makin a classic Then my world turned black, like I was starin' outta Stevie Wonder's glasses Its kinda hard to imagine, like Kanye West Comin' back from his fatal accident, to beat makin and rappin', but We da future Whitney Houston told me that: it's gon take more than a bullet in the heart to hold me back (HOOK) Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin' the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Martin Luther King had a *DREAM* Aaliyah had a *DREAM* Left Eye had a *DREAM* So I reached out to Kanye and *I brought you all my dreams* B.G. music playing... (Verse 2) I had dreams of fuckin an R'n'B bitch like Mya When I saw that ass on the front of that King Read the article in the magazine She loved gangstas, loved nasty things So I'm in the glass house havin' nasty dreams Good girls never give it up But anything is possible, if 50 fucked Vivica Hurdled life's obstacles, found my way through the maze Then joy turned to pain like, Frankie Beverly and Maze Used to dream of bein' Unsigned Hype Till I was crushed my Dave Mays, almost let my pen fall asleep on the page Daydreamin' yesterday Dozin' off back-stage I tought I saw Eazy talkin' to Jam Master Jay So I walked over heard Jam Master say Its a hard-knock life, then you pass away They say sleep is the cousin of death Sow my eyes wide open cuz a dream is kin to your last breath (HOOK) Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin' the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Martin Luther King had a *DREAM* Aaliyah had a *DREAM* Left Eye had a *DREAM* So I reached out to Kanye and *I brought you all my dreams* B.G. music playing... (Verse 3) The Dream of Huey Newton, that's what I'm livin' through The Dream of Eric Wright, thats what imI' givin' you Who walked through the White House without a business suit? Compton had Jheri Curl drippin' on Ronald Reagan's shoes Gave Mike Lim my demo came here to pay my dues Started off with Whoo-Kid then I started blazin' Clue It was all a Dream like B.I.G said it be Don't sleep on me homie I bring nightmares to reality Rap Phenomenon defyin' the rules of gravity Studied all the classic started revisin' my strategy Cuz Marshall Mathers made it Curtis Jackson made it Head in the clouds wonderin' where the hell Marvin Gaye went? How do I say this, I'm livin' for my son but I can't figure out, why I'm at my temple with this gun Wake up to a Jesus Piece like a Catholic nun The war to be a rap legend ha just begun (HOOK:) Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin' the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Martin Luther King had a *DREAM* Aaliyah had a *DREAM* Left Eye had a *DREAM* So I reached out to Kanye and *I brought you all my dreams* B.G. music playing... (The GAME talking) This song is dedicated to Yetunde Price, the sister of Venus and Serena Williams who was slain during a gang shoot-out in Compton, Sunday September 14th 2003, Rest in peace... B.G.Music fades to an end... |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(50 Cent)
Ya, let's take em back Uh huh Comin up I was confused my momma kissin a girl Confusion occurs comin up in the cold world Daddy ain't around probably out commitin felonies My favorite rapper used to sing ch-check out my melody I wanna live good, so shit I sell dope for a fo-finger ring One of them gold ropes NaNa told me if I pass could get a sheep skin coat If I can move a few packs and get the hat, now that'd be dope Tossed and turned in my sleep that night Woke up the next morning niggas done stole my bike Different day same shit, ain't nothing good in the hood I'd run away from this bitch and never come back if I could (Chorus (50 then Game):) Hate it or love it the underdog's on top And I'm gonna shine homie until my heart stop Go head' envy me I'm raps MVP And I ain't goin nowhere so you can get to know me Hate it or love it the underdog's on top And I'm gonna shine homie until my heart stop Go head' envy me I'm raps MVP And I ain't goin nowhere so you can get to know me (Game) On the grill of my lowrider Guns on both sides right above the gold wires I'll fo-five em Kill a nigga on my song but really do it Thats the true meaning of a ~ghostwriter~ 10 g'z will take ya daughter out of Air Forces Believe you me homie i know all bout losses I'm from Compton where the wrong colors be cautious One phone call will have ya body dumped in Marcy I stay strapped like car seats Been bangin since my lil nigga Rob got killed for his Barkley's That's 10 years I told Pooh in 95' I'd kill you if you try me for my Air Max 95s Told Banks when i met him imma ride And if I gotta die rather homicide I ain't have 50 Cent when my Grandmomma died Now i'm goin back to Cali with my Jacob on See how time fly? (Chorus - 50 Cent) From the beginnin to the end Losers lose, winners win This is real we ain't got to pretend The cold world that we in Is full of pressure and pain Enough of me nigga now listen to Game (Game) Used to see 5-0 throw the crack by the bench Now i'm fuckin with ~5-0~ it's all startin to make ~sense~ My moms happy she ain't gotta pay the rent And she got a red bow on that brand new Benz Waitin on Sha Money to land sittin in the Range Thinkin how they spend 30 million dollars on airplanes When there's kids starvin Pac is gone and Brendas still throwin babies in the garbage I wanna know what's goin on like i hear Marvin No school books they use that wood to build coffins Whenever I'm in the booth and i get exhausted I think what if Marie Banker got that abortion I love ya Ma' (Chorus X2) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... chronic, chronic, chronic, chronic
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... hydrolex, drolex, drolex, drolex It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Westside, Westside, Westside, Westside It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Compton, Compton, Compton, Compton (Breakdown) It's not that I can't stop, It's that I won't stop, I make it hot (I do it) I'll be on top, as soon as the beat drop, I'll make the whole club rock (I do it) (The Game) Lace my Air Ones up, put my gun up I don't need that I'm riding wit Dre Who don't love us, every hood throwin they dubs up Who the fuck yall thought was comin after Young Buck hip hops worst nightmare, Mr. Gangsta Rap is back in black nike airs You want war, we can settle it right here I got a squad, E V E and Busta Rhymes yeah Or you could give me ya bitch, her with the light hair Sit her next to these yellow bottles, tea right there Matter fact I'll take you in the back you in the hat, and you in the blue and the black Lets have a gangsta party Somebody lean over and tell Banks to order another case of fortys Yo Doc give them a coke with that, wake up the west coast is back (CHORUS) (I can take you hiyaaaah) Show you how that low rider bounce off the flo' - You ain't know? (I can take you hiyaaaah) It's the muthafuckin chronic nigga thats whatsup - roll that blunt (I can take you hiyaaaah) G-Unit, Shady Aftermath I'm the motherfuckin Game and (I can take you hiyaaaah) (Breakdown) (Game) + (Snoop Dogg) Like Dre did, I created a buzz without a single like N.W.A. did From the hood -liquor- store to the state pen This is gin and juice the doc made the club R.O.C. without Timbaland boots First nigga to put drolex on a bentley coupe You wanna pimp? I perm my shit up like Snoop (Westside) Chronic 2005 muthafucker, put the purple in the dutch "Let it Burn" like Usher giirl Drop down, do the eagle, fuck that Real niggaz just pull up they pants and lean back giirl Make 50 spill his cris, he'll call you a bitch I'ma call you and hit , you can ya girlfriend, we can make it a flick I got the lollipop if you wanna lick Or you can take a ride on the magic stick (CHORUS) (Breakdown) (Game) Put 25's on the hummer, why not I'ma be here for the next 10 summers Drop me in the 4th quarter I'm fuckin up they money I don't need sound scan I'm doin my own numbers When that impala bounce you can see the chrome under I got em' in every color yea I'm a known stunner When I hit a switch I get higher than long jumpers low ridin with a hood rat or a grown woman And I'll do anything but I won't fuck Mariah Even if she had Ashanti butt naked in bed cause she got a forehead just like Tyra I can say what the fuck I want, you thought Dre retired Left me in 6-4 his Dayton wires These niggas is a waste of rhymin, Doc got somthing to say be quiet (Dr. Dre) Look out for Detox (CHORUS) (Breakdown) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Hook - 50 Cent)
This is how we do We make a move and act a fool while we up in the club This is how we do Nobody do it like we do it so show us some love This is how we do We make a move and act a fool while we up in the club This is how we do Nobody do it like we do it so show us some love (Verse I - Game) Fresh like, unhh; Impala, unnh Chrome hyrdolics, 808 drums You don't want, none Nigga betta, run When beef is on, I'll pop that, trunk Come get, some Pistol grip, pump If a nigga step on my white Air, Ones Since red, rum Ready here I, come Compton, unh Dre found me in the, slums Sellin that skunk, one hand on my gun I was sellin rocks when Master P was sayin "Unnnh" Buck pass the blunt These G-Unit girls just wanna have, fun Coke and rum Got weed on the ton I'm bangin with my hand up her dress like, unh I'll make her cum, purple haze in my lungs Whole gang in the front in case a nigga wanna, stunt (Verse II - 50 Cent) I put Lamborghini doors on that Es-ca-lade Low pro so look like I'm riding on blades In one year mang, a nigga's so paid I have a straight bitch in the telly goin both ways (Ah!) Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me I give it to ya just how you like it, girl You know I'm rockin with the best tre pound on my hip Teflon on my chest They say I'm no good Cuz I'm so hood Rich folks do not want me around Cuz shit might pop off, and if shit pop off Somebody gon' get laid the fuck out They call me new money, say I have no class I'm from the bottom, I came up too fast The hell if I care, I'm just here to get my cash Bougie ass bitches, you can kiss my ass (Hook) (Verse III - Game) I put gold Daytonas on that Cherry Six-Four White walls so clean it's like I'm riding on bulbs Hit one switch mang, that ass so low Cali got niggaz in New York riding on hundred spokes Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me I give it to ya just how you like it, girl You know I'm rockin with the best fo' pound on my hip Gold chain on my chest (Ah!) (Verse IV - Game and 50 Cent) (50 Cent) 50, unh Bentley, unh Em came 'n gotta nigga fresh out the, slum Automatic, gun Fuck 'em one-on-one We wrap up ya punk ass, stunt 'n ya done Homie, it's Game time (Game) You ready? Here I come Call Lloyd Banks and get this motherfucker, crunk It took two, months But Fifty got it done Signed with G-unit Had niggaz like, "huh?" Don't try to front I'll leave yo' ass, slumped Thinkin I'm a punk Get your fuckin head, lumped Fifty got a, gun (50 Cent) Ready here he come Gotta sick, vendetta To get this, chedda Meet my Ba, Retta The dra-ma, setta Sip Am-a, retta My flow sounds, betta Than average On tracks I'm a savage I damage Any nigga tryin' to front on my clique (G-Unit!) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Verse 1: The Game)
June 30th, 11:07 I got that call She 8 centimeters, my lil' man about to fall Scuffing my Air Forces, running through the hospital hall Deja vu, like I been here before I'm feeling reborn, like a Bed-Stuy brethren, my first born Dre, I'm about to have a bad boy, family in the lobby See my nigga Church, "What Up," shit I left the camcorder in the truck Running through the maternity ward, out of breath, sweating I swear to God every minute's starting to feel like a second I seen Hell staring down the barrel of a Smith & Wesson My son's ultrasound the closest I ever been to Heaven Lord forgive me for my sins, I know it's last minute Put the chronic in the air, a little hash in it Spread my wings, If only I could fly Why fight to live homie?, If we only living to die (Chorus: Busta Rhymes) I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you (Verse 2: The Game) They say every time somebody die a child is born So I thank the nigga who gave his life for the birth of my son 11:32, she screaming at the top of her lungs I'm panicking, nurse yelling for the doctor to come All I could remember was lamaze class, breathe baby "One (one), two (two), three (three), four (four)," I see the head Doc busting through the door, he between the legs He see the head, it's my baby boy 11:46, the head out, she screaming, making crazy noise Pain is love, my stomach folding like a La-Z-Boy I'm feeling like Mariah Carey, all these butterfly's Voices singing to me, sound like Teena Marie I'm calling niggas on tour, "Jayo tell Spiz I just cut the umbilical cord" 11:57, a soldier is born, and he's flesh of my flesh, young Harlem Karan (Chorus: Busta Rhymes) I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you (Verse 3: The Game) I wanna thank Dr. Af and Nurse Theresa, for bringing my baby boy to life You birthed a Caesar, And my baby Mama, Aliska For pushing out a 10-pound, 4-ounce Mini-Me, I still can't believe it Nose, ears, eyes, chin, just like your Daddy I die before you grow up and be just like your Daddy, or your Grandfather Call Uncle Zip, tell him I got a son and I ain't even in Harlem I'm popping Cris with your Godfathers, Baron Davis and "D-Mack" Darius Rogers Drop the top on the '71, with my face in the clouds, Lord spare my son And watch over Aaron Wright, T'Yan and Lil' Pun Lowriding, banging "Ready to Die," track number 1 If I bust 5 times and they never see the sun My life is a black hole, like the barrel of a gun, one (Chorus: Busta Rhymes) I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(INTRO)
3 Minutes my nigga...Ya'll know what it is..Just Blaze! (VERSE 1) Gangsta Gangsta that's already evident. Nigga wit a Attitude, check, check my residence. Whether I'm Crip or Blood, Homie, that's irrelivant. I'm with the D-O-C, there's nobody better then the west coast felon when he on that lowrider Bike pedaling, Somebody tell Eazy they still yellin' it. I'm with ya homie Doc Dre on the television while these niggas moving peanuts like a elephant. I'm on cars like spinnin' rims. I'm in a class all by myself like the brown Eminem. Not to down Eminem I fuck black bitches, fuck white bitches, nigga I like bitches. Them half and half Alicia Keys dyke bitches. If the head right, I might Air Nike bitches. Or put 'em on a track like Just Blaze, I look down on hoes and look up to Dre, cause ain't... (CHORUS) No More Fun and Games. (scratches and mix-ins) (VERSE 2) I'm like Dre, Eazy, Cube, King Tia rolled into One. Used to move birdies 'till I put a hole in one. Nigga they thought I wasn't holdin' a gun, they try to ride up on me like Afeni Shakurs only son. Dre told me he ain't doing Detox, this his only run. Mase coming back and Hovie done. I'm surrounded by legends, sitting at the round table, I am The Game and still niggas tryna play Dude. I'm Ruthless, I ain't talkin' 'bout the label. I hook niggas up and I don't mean free cable. I mean I hook niggas up to the I.V, the same way Dre hooked me up to Ivine. I'm from the gutter, grew up in public housing. On the same block with a shack like Yao Ming. So if a nigga ever try to Jerry Hellin' me, tell Dre put up a mill cause that's what my bail Will be. (CHORUS) No More Fun and Games. (scratches and mix-ins) (VERSE 3) I been rapping for 1 year 1 month, 17 days. 13 hours, 28 minutes, then I met Dre. 30 minutes after I bought the new Em, that was November 18, 3:09 P.M. Around the same time Wanksta got it's first spin, that was 32 weeks before they signed Rakim. 8 Months, 13 Days, before I knew a Mike Lynn. And 3 Years after Mase done turned his mic in? I start writing 22 months and 20 weeks prior to Lebron shaking Adidas for Nikes. I'm right here, 6 years after Randy Moss caught his first touchdown for the Vikings. 1 day, 7 hours, 14 minutes, 21 seconds before Soundscan got printed. 2 Platinum Records for I'm classified with Biggie. And 2 seconds before the song finish, yeah. |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Intro Verse)
Electro compulsive therapy, Part 1. (Verse 1) First thing's first (Aftermath), The Chronic is back This is indo produced by Timbo Game ova, naw the nwa chain choka Is burnin rubber inside the range rova Chain smokin', Purple Haze, this ain't Anotha one of those this the rebirth of dre The rebirth of la, the rebirth of hip-hop Another memorial for Makaveli and Big Pac Hold up, Timb stop. I said this anotha memorial For Makaveli and Big Pac, g-g-g-g-g! Young homie got shit locked, public enemy #1 Flava flav on the wristwatch. all black g-units All black impala, im a skitzo 3-wheelin the six-fo 50 Cent know I'm Compton's most wanted when I'm ridin' wit Timbo (Chorus) Girl if you got a big back lemme pin that Show me where ya friends at we can flip that Lemme put you on the game (Lemme put you on the game) Lemme put you on the game (Lemme put you on the game) I show you where the bloods at where the Crips at Show you where they flip crack, where they bitch at Lemme put you on the game (Lemme put you on the game) Lemme put you on the game (Lemme put you on the game) Reburn! (Verse 2) I ain't got the west on my shoulda, got the west In the backseat of the rova. ridin on dubs, nigga I'm westcoastin'. the next hova from the home of The best doja, makin all that racket, i got the u.s. open Stunt on me I'll leave you wit ya chest open, vest broken Hop in the lo-lo wit tha tech smokin, g-g-g-g-g! I done paid my dues, nwa is back this is front page news. I got dre in the back, ridin on 22's. bitches screamin 'let me ride', it must be the shoes. red and black g6's Red dot on the glock, I'm goin 3x platinum dawg how Do I stop? I'm hot (Chorus) (Verse 3) My unit is gorilla, fuck with me my familia, I will kill ya. i know that boy not familia(r), But you got to feel em if the docta sealed em (is Compton in the house?) without a doubt I'm the rapper wit clout otha niggaz yap about. You know the one that introduced new york to The beach cruiser, got em puttin red and blue Strings in they G-Units. get groupie luv, Tell em to keep movin, if I gotta problem wit a bitch I let eve do it. unless she got on la perla And I can see through it, I don't just let her ride I give her the keys to it. me n my bitch layed back In the coupe, I'm movin in the neighborhood i ain't Passin through. I woulda been here afta snoop, But i slowed down and showed Timbaland how to iron a Khaki suit. (Chorus) |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Chorus)
Got to live for today cause tomorrow ain't promised to me Don't just want a piece I want my whole destiny (If you got it) I'm gone take it (If you're in it) You're coming with me (Bench warmers) Get no playing time (No sleeping) Till I cross the line I'm runnin' (The Game) With 99 miles left, on the Avis rental car blowing horns like Miles Davis at the pearly gate God let me in Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN I know I got more sins than two lesbians Been back and forth across the border like Mexicans But (I'm runnin') like New York pedestrians Trying not to scuff my Nike Air checks again It's funny how niggaz be the best of friends And fall out over pussy and wanna dead they man One of my niggaz in the grave the other one in the pin She fuckin my enemies inside my homeboys Benz Now she beggin God's mercy cause she ain't listen to Nas And never heard about Ike and the Iverson jersey He got a cousin named Jason that rock the Gary Payton Now the same trifling bitch is a HIV patient True story (Chorus) (Tony Yayo) If I get knocked with my gun nigga I'm runnin' If I catch a murder one nigga I'm runnin' Homicide come around and they keep on coming That's why I'm out of state and I keep on runnin' I ain't Nelly but my desert eagles on girl Just dropped bail traveling the world When I sign my deal I said fuck jail I went on tour to Barcelona and Brazil This shit real fuck an appeal D's want my head like that bitch in Kill Bill Sling dope sling crack and them e pills That's why I'm on the low like a dead navy seals I'm runnin' (Chorus) (Game) Cause I gotta pack them shows And Dre told me ain't no coming back from Go So I gotta get my album in place My G-Unit features My Eminem sixteens My Dr. Dre beats And it was two years from today when I started rhyming And took my demo to Suge and he ain't sign me Niggaz threatening my life like it's hard to find me See me shining in the hood like twenty inch Lexanis My mom said I'm hard head I don't follow the rules Why should I when Reebok giving niggaz they own shoes And I'm dealing with the same problems 50 Cent got Yayo in jail and they think I'm trying to take his spot I'm in the studio laughing at Chris Rock Then I turn on MTV and see Soulja Slim shot And niggaz trying to gun me down in the rim shop Cause I just want the same recognition that the crypts got They say I'm the next in line and if I get shot Then I go out as the Bobby Fischer of hip hop Make yo chest move Sylvia Rome and Kevin Lyle slept cool Jimmy Iovine was the best move |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(feat. Nate Dogg)
(Intro - Dr Dre and (Game)) Ah man.. Ey game.. dont tell me you love her (i mean i like the bitch i dont love her) Next thing you know you gon be all boohoo'd upped with her and shit (fuck that) (chorus, x2 - Nate Dogg) Girl ill do anything to make you feel special Man its easy to see you special to me Weather we lovers or friends we'll always be I want you to know, your special (verse 1 - The Game) L.A.X. to J.F.K. thats where it all happened Caught you walkin out that gucci store in manhattan I was in chains and cuffs, you was with cha girls I was in that aftermath chain, you was in pearls It was me against the world, baby girl You had dreams of stardom, The prince of compton meets the queen of harlem First date at mr chows it was culture i would coach ya La pearla, gucci, louie, finde, prada, dolce Runnin circles in my living room, tearing up sofas Me clear in the rover, fuck it ma lets tear up the highway Let the sprewells spin till the plates fell off Then we could go 1 on 1 at dres house Jeans painted with the waist cut out You rockin the fly way that lil bit of compton mixed with bed stuy way And girl im not trying to excite you, Im tryna wife you, bamboo earing, white air nike you Yea (chorus, x2 - Nate Dogg) Girl ill do anything to make you feel special Man its easy to see you special to me Weather we lovers or friends we'll always be I want you to know, your special (verse 2 - The Game) I like your style, like the way you move, the way you talk The way you smile, the way you swingin them hips when you walk The way you look, the way you ride when you workin them thighs The way you licken your lips when you look in my eyes You down for me, im down for you You go down on me, ill go down on you I wanna do all the things that your man wont do Im from the hood, so i know how to handle you Keep you in pink rocks and g-unit canvas shoes Show you how to gangsta lean when the lambo move Ill take you to new york city, atlanta too Show you how to fly them birds and them hammers thru And you know... (chorus, x2 - Nate Dogg) Girl ill do anything to make you feel special Man its easy to see you special to me Weather we lovers or friends we'll always be I want you to know, your special (verse 3 - The Game) Let me tell you bout the birds and bees How i stand on the block all day and flip birds and keys Your boyfriend dont like me, cause he dont get a fourth of my cheese And you can take back the porsche and his keys Hop in the range rover, you aint gotta force him to leave I gotta chrome four four on my jeans You got gucci frame covering the mark on your face Cause he dont want you to leave and i dont want you to stay Sometimes i wanna snatch that nigga out tha CLK I know he treating you like k-ci did mary j I wanna ease ya pain, kick off your louie sandles Let me, whip your tears with my g-unit bandana Make me wanna peal you out them jeans when you rockin em Its "me and my girlfriend" like tupac and them Jay-z and beyonce or bobby and whitney We the oh 5 bonnie and clyde, you feel me (chorus, x2 - Nate Dogg) Girl ill do anything to make you feel special Man its easy to see you special to me Weather we lovers or friends we'll always be I want you to know, your special |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
(Intro)
Aight What the fuck are you lookin at self You want a piece of me Ahh man shit The story of my life... (Verse 1) If I could start from scratch I wouldn't change shit Same red bandana same 45th Same g wagon same hoodrat bitch Workers in the kitchen cookin up my shit Same telephone booth same connect That mean the same hollow tips breakin up in my chest Same bloody t-shirt same address Same dog food album bangin in my tape deck Homie if I could make 94 today I'd tell easy and dre to bring back N.W.A. I would have told Pac not to stomp Orlando Told puffy and B.I.G about the Rampart scandal I got too many dead homies Fuck a rap career I'd give anything in the world to bring back my nigga tez Seem like we was jus' in magic city yesterday If I could bring back my homeboy charles he would say... (Chorus) If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back (Verse 2) Homie if I could rewind the hands of time I would of cut of the PS2 at 12:49 Nigga I'm a gangsta I stay on my grind Who knew 11 minutes later I'd get shot wit my own 9 I was 2 beeps away from a flatline When you a bad boy niggas don't wanna see you shine Dre said its my turn He call it game time 23" lexanis bitches call him ?lebron? I'd give my own life if I could change God's mind Bring baby luny back at the drop of a dime He let off a whole k Got shot 1 time That was a coo nigga I wish he had 9 lives My brother devon died coz he chased the cat This a dog eat dog world Jesus please holla back I got a confession to make its called payback If y'all don't wanna listen show me where pastor mase at (Chorus) If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back (Verse 3) I would have told Big Will it rain every Tuesday and Thursday When pigeons in your coupe you gotta watch where your birds lay Would have told Vita to stay sober When niggas beg for mercy That mean the beef is over Told meesh to take the porsche back Drive a rover Told slim hit reverse on that hardtop nova I would've change a couple of lines when I wrote soldier So I wouldn't have to live lookin over my shoulder My life is like an impala ridin 3 wheel motion I've been front to back Side to side Level my 6 4 frame out Keep on rollin Keep your family far away and your enemys closer Picture The Source suckin Benzino's dick Tryna be the big fish in the pond You know how them piranhas get You dead when dat green line go flat If you could start your life from scratch you couldn't change that (Chorus) If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back If I could start my life from scratch If I could take away the pain off my past If I had another chance I would do just that I'd give anything jus' to go right back Go right back..... |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
Boy talks to lady to start the song)
(Verse 1 - Game (DRE)) What happened in hip hop That got Pac and Big shot The thicks plots Now every rapper claim He let his clique pop But even myself tote a gun And know to run then get shot Ive been there before Now im fuckin with Doc (Gotta do them Calvin Broadus numbers) If not i push rocks Anticipatin my encarceration Media think im fakin like Mason But when it comes to mase Fuck Off Kelly i dont take it in the face I find out who sprayed it I'm putting you under the pavement No buddhist, priest, catholic, or baptist pastor can save him Im far from religious But i got beliefs, so i put Cannary yellow diamonds In my jesus piece I came back from the dead Without a part of my chest Layed in a hospital bed on cardiac arrest I waited for 3 years While everybody else dropped Now i understand why NAS Did a song with his pops (CHORUS x2) Im ready to die Without a reasonable doubt Smoke chronic and hit it Doggy style before i go out Until they sign my death certificate All eyez on me Im still at it, illmatic And thats THE DOCUMENTARY (Verse 2) If i die my niggas, fuck it I did a song with Mary Blige, my niggas Got a hook from Faith No verse from Jay I guess on westside story He thought i spit in his face Told Ed Lover and Money Luv I was talkin to Ja With that mayback line It was payback time Keep fuckin with me nigga Ill put you under me Take your car and trade it in For eight 3 hundred C's If you cross my T I'll dot your Eyes You do life in a cementary Ill do mine with Shyne Come home sit in the thrown With my legs crossed And my air force Middle finger up Fuck the world Cause im feelin like Puff When Life After Death hit Mo' money, mo' problems And i lost my best friend Im the second dopest nigga From compton u'll ever hear The first nigga only put out albums Every 7 years (haha) (Game (Commentator)) (You know what speakin of Jay That just makes me roll down Now your song westside story) Ohh Ohh (You got a line that says Dont wear throwbacks Or drive, ride in maybacks, Is that a shot at Jay?) Naa, i was talkin about Ja Rule Yeah, So, Yeah, i got a lot of Respect for Jay You know what im saying I never take shots at legends Thats just something i dont do (Verse 3 - Game (Busta)) Let me tell you why i do this shit Im a son of a gun Cause moms was a hoover crip First day i got signed I had to prove i spit Freestyle with Busta Rhymes (son, duke is sick) The prodigee' of Doc Dre. I could finally put the shoes on Now that the rumors of Rakim and Q gone They say truth hurts Sunk, like quick sand Dont stop me in traffic And ask about hitman I gotta restore the feelin It crawled from under the rock After the dog pound Crushed the buildings I got a family to feed Im the middle of 9 children We can talk about a loan After i sell 5 million If i tell you i aint Game And i dont know Dre. You gonn do me like X-Zibit And cut half of my face? I take all the credit For putting the west Back on the map If you aint feelin that Guess I'm Gorilla Black!!! (CHORUS x1) Im ready to die Without a reasonable doubt Smoke chronic and hit it Doggy style before i go out Until they sign my death certificate All eyez on me Im still at it, illmatic And thats THE DOCUMENTARY |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005)
[Verse 1:]
Crip niggas, Blood niggas, Ese's, Asians Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, White Boys, Jamaicans Latin Kings, Disciples, Vicelords, Hatians All these muthafuckers been patiently waitin' Since the west coast fell off the steets been watchin' The west coast never fell off I was asleep in Compton Aftermath been here the beats been knockin' Nate Dogg doin' his thing DPG still poppin' I got California love fuckin' bitches to that Pac shit & westside connection been had it locked bitch I'm in the rear view my gun's is cockin' I'll put red dots on that nigga head like rodman All stars, phat laces, gun charge, court cases Faught that, not guilty I'm back Niggas hate me been there, done that, sold crack Got jacked, got shot, came back jumped on Dre's back, payback Homey I'm bringin' CA back & I don't do button up shirts or drive Mayback's All you old record labels tryin' to advance Aftermath bitch take it like a muthafuckin' man. [Chorus:] If you take a look in my eyes You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die That California chronic got me so high Game tell them where you from Nigga Westside! [x2] [Verse 2:] I'm lowridin' homey, 6 Tre impala Gold D spinnin' chrome hydraulics Run up on my low-low you stop breathin' Hollow tips make niggas disappear like houdini Gang bangin' is real Homey I'm livin' proof like Snoop Dogg C-Walkin' on top of the devil's roof Rap critics wanna converse about this & that Cause red strings in this converse & this a Dre track Keep jibberin' jabberin' I'll pull a .38 magnum & get the clickin' & clackin' You'll homies will wanna know what happened Come to Compton & see Thriller like Michael Jackson I might be Spike Lee, All this gun clappin' Prior to rappin' I was drug traffic In the dope spot playin' John Madden Homey I ain't braggin' I took 5 You wanna die? ...Run up on that black 745... [Chorus:] If you take a look in my eyes You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die That California chronic got me so high Game tell them where you from Nigga Westside! [x2] [Verse 3:] New York New York, big city of dreams I got my L.A. Dodger fitted on I'm doin' my thing Got me fuckin' wit G-Unit you know the drama that brings I got niggas in Westside Compton & Southside Queen's & Buck told me in Cashville I'm good when I come through So I don't gotta tuck in my chain like DJ Po' I'm gangsta more like Deebo when he was Zeus Play bishop I paint that picture now who got the juice You niggas is nuts so, I take off your roof Leave your ass streched out like a Cadillac Coupe God gotta let me in Heaven all the shit I been through I was an OG in the hood before I turned 22 Homey I'll let the .38 special rip through that vest & I now I'm contemplatin' whether or not he left that shit on the dresser Got Compton on my back I'm startin' to feel the pressure I'm lyrically Kool G. Rappin' these Dre Records. [Chorus:] If you take a look in my eyes You see I'll be a gangsta 'til I die That California chronic got me so high Game tell them where you from Nigga Westside! [x2] |
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from The Game - The Documentary (2005) | |||||
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from Coach Carter (코치 카터) by Trevor Rabin [ost] (2005)
(feat. Lil Scrappy)
Yall dont want it with the southside (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy) Yall dont want it with the southside (Aint nothin, aint nothin, aint nothin, aint nothin, ayy) Yall dont want it with the southside (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, crank it) Yall dont want it with the southside (ayy, ayy, aint nothin, aint nothin, ayy) (Verse 1 - Lil Scrappy) Ill leave your ass cripy Like some frosted flakes What you call it sneaky nigga Tha man Jake the snake Every nigga on the street Got something to say Until they get sprayed in the face With a gay like mase I dont hate the fagget Lets get that shit straight I was lifted by a precher So my mom pushed weight Now i hooked up wit game Real nigga with flame He show me cali love And i aint in no game Every nigga that role wit me Betta keep it G'd Ill put the verdebrate Push a DDT Lets get the sippi Yall niggas aint even gifted Bust a shot at your chin Your top getting lifted G's up get your G's up Scrappy with your weed up I fuck with g-unit So yall sake get they ass lumped Your homeboy really going Through something I cant change I fuck hoes that would make Mya look lame (CHORUS) (Verse 2 - Game) The reallest of niggas I role wit them killas (yeah) The world gotta feel us My clique is +G+orilla +U+ +N+iggas +I+n +T+rouble Im in the track with B-M-E cliqueing You aint gotta know Im sigend to Dre to know that he sick P-89 thats what i handle my beef with Put them hollow tips under your arms Like speedstick Ride through your hood In a blue impala Like we crips Roll down the tints, G-Unit Im a head busta, lil scrappy When the lead touch ya And they aint no comming back when you dead fucker Sleep in your earn And get eaten by worms Trying to fight a fire with Bottled water heat and get burned They tampered my phones Like D-R-E and the firm Cuz im buzzing like WuTang And it aint even my turn So who it may concern Youll get your whole mouth wide Fuckin with them gang bangers In the SOUTHSIDE (CHORUS) (Outro - Lil Scrappy (Game)) Hey hold the muthafucker up mi nigga (hold up) This your boy little scrappy shorty (BME) A-town (A-town) Mi nigga game (Comptown) You know, its westside (G-G-G-G) in this bitch They want (G-G-G-G-G-G Unit) to get that ass hit They wanna get that ass hit Ayy, ayy, ayy, (G-G-G-G) Who you lookin at? Nah not me nigga Who you lookin at? Nah not me nigga Who you lookin at? Nah not me nigga Im for real Nah not me nigga (CHORUS) SOUTHSIDE (X2) |
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
( Verse One )
I'm too gangsta for the streets, watch me when I creep I put five in ya, jeep - leave a nigga sleep Now you six feet deep over bullshit Got a Mac 10 mouth ain't never pull shit The ghetto dont make G's and mo niggaz Get down or lay down, like Bennie Mack told niggaz Or meet the fo fo, nigga - I let the guns blow nigga I'm a rider - thug live til I die Black Wall Street behind us - I'm a menace to society F**k Cane And O dogg, I got the cane and the o's, dawg I'm gangsta like Hennesy and Alizay, thug passion Ride or die til they kill me and put me in thugs mansion Gang bangin, this California life-style got me heated They want me burried so I don't leave with out the Desert Eagle Shoot first, ask questions on way to county jail Kill a nigga over my chain, 'cause I know I'ma make bail I'm troublesome ( Verse Two ) If I die tonight - bury me a G, amongsts rap legends 'Cause I spit bullets and rhymes, sixteens and nines 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 If five shots couldn't drop me but I ain't take 'em and smile I lost a lot of my niggaz to gang bangin and ditches One finger on the trigger, dawg, I live the life of a sinner These motherf**kers wanna see me doing life in the pen I'm a outlaw and the westcoast is ridin again My competition is none, I'm on the mission with guns Starring death in the eyes, 20 niggaz deep, when we ride My enemies is bitches - they plottin on my riches Can't walk in the street with out paparazzi taking pictures Label me a made nigga, all the way from Compton to Boston These niggaz keep talkin, I leave 'em dead in the coffin I'm troublesome ( Verse Three ) Money over bitches is my motto, in the street I'n known for catchin hollo's Packing pistols and drinking belvy and Grey Goose out the bottle No role models, only killas and fiends Withness my niggaz strapped with gats, and army fatigues If it's murder, he wrote it, if I'm lying let the devil excel quoted and know that I'm strictly a rap poet Babtized 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 a pound California dreaming, chronic smoke out the beamer One hand on the nina,scheeming got these hoochie bitches screaming They know that I'm a celeberty - keep the cop-killers in the clip And watch my back is what my niggaz keep telling me Twenty-one years old, no felonies so I ride with the Desert and pay homage to the hardest rap legends I'm troublesome |
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
(Verse 1)
Yeah though I walk through the valley of death Vest on, Teflon none approached in my Hurricane sweats Black chrome my shoulder, big wheel ‘till it's over He never got to see me put black chrome on the Rova Reading your obituary wishing we never met So I wouldn't have to shed tears or wake up in cold sweats Lookin' at this bottle of Hennessy wishing you never left Wishing I chased your Monte Carlo down and gave you my vest Or better yet I wish they never let you out And I never got that phone call tellin' me that you out Wish you never signed the release form I wouldn't have had to clear this sample Or use this track to say rest in peace for him You wanted to know if Dre and Em felt you? They did, before I could tell you somebody killed you I feel pain for everybody that ever knew the real you Call Nas tell him that I got an Ill Will too (Chorus) (Verse 2) Niggas politickin' wanna know why I'm rhymin' different My best friend got murdered, nigga my mind is different If you ain't never spent no time in prison You can't understand these bars or the lines I'm spittin' Niggas rilin' me up let's go find a victim I can't do it homie that's the reason Shyne in prison And through divine intervention ten plus years doing crime in the trenches Multiply by the time we spent in the kitchen It's a life worth of hard livin', Cuban cigar tippin' Twelve grade ditchin', purple serve by the jar sippin' If you lost a homie you know friendship is God given I've done seen the church so much you'd think I was born Christian I've done seen more dead bodies than a mortician Seen niggas in and out of county blues like they was born crippin' So I'ma keep on livin' cause when I'm gone niggas ain't gonna do shit But fuck my bitch and poor liquor (Chorus) (Verse 3) What if you was me And you had to sit through an entire funeral While the Pastor readin' your homeboy's eulogy I'm already dead What the fuck you gonna do to me? Keep talking shit I'll empty my clip in that G-Unit tee Gimme a minute to say my grace with God I'll see your face in the mirror I came a long way to talk And tell you your Moms is missing you Your Pops is missing you Just saw your baby pictures in your Grandmother's living room Face is missing you homie Wink is missing you Thank God you left us memories and songs to listen to ??? is missing you The hood is missing you Let my son graduate high school And I'm gonna come visit you The world is missing you Eminem was feeling you Dre said he felt your vibe the little time we spent with you Pour the Henny out cuz he ain't here in the physical They say real men don't cry but nigga I'm missing you (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Who Got Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
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from Purple City, Moe Sticky - Purple City Byrdgang: Hatin' from the Sideline (2005) | |||||
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from R. Kelly - Tp-3.Com (2005)
I hope yall got yall playa's card
cause yall aint getting in unless ya do Playa's only where them chicks be checkin their bodies Up in the club where they get real naughty Take um from here to the private parties where there aint nothing but Playa's only where the playa's be spinnin a lot of dough Honies got ass bouncing on the floor This is how we behind the playa's door (She on the floor) surrounded by them playa's and thugs (She on the floor) the girls gone wild in the clubs (In V.I.P.) Got drough with a bottle of bub (She don't care) Shakin ass just throwin em up I'd really like to get to know her the way she warms her Bodie up now she heated got me heated up I can find I really wanna beat it up So her how I hit the bottle and spend it up You don't gotta worry bout being alone Cause tonight we'll be together in my home Exit out the club bouncin our domes Got that red coupe matchin the chrome Put that body in motion motion And watch it wave like ocean ocean Now break it down and worm it worm it Now bring it up and shake it shake it Playa's only where them chicks be checkin their bodies Up in the club where they get real naughty Take um from here to the private parties where there aint nothing but Playa's only where the playa's be spinnin a lot of dough Honies got ass bouncing on the floor This is how we behind the playa's door I'm still fresh like uh impala uh Dre's young guns still ridin the base drums (Chi) Four times platinum hate it or love it I'm still number one Still in the hood one hand on my gun And my trigger finger still make b**hes cum I mean the one with the ring and the tounge Compton uh Kelly found her in the slums Shakin that rump both hands on the pumps Send her home with me I'll have your girl yellin uhhh Kell's my b*** drunk but until girlfriend still wanna have fun Pass the blunt let her drink red rum Bet she aint never seen a penthouse at the Trump Me and R been around the world and we'll give it to you just how u like it girl Girl you on a mission step in club shuttin down competition The way you walk it talk it switch it And when the doors close handle yur business Now make your booty go (boom boom boom boom) Break it down now (boom boom boom boom) Bring it up now (boom boom boom boom) Push it back girl (boom boom boom boom) Now shake shake it shake it shake it Out the club in the coupe to the mansion We gone get bent up to the morning Layin back in the chair while you wind it Lap dance on me girl bump and grind it We gone do it till we drop it until the part stop we gone keep it hot Playa's only where them chicks be checkin their bodies Up in the club where they get real naughty Take um from here to the private parties where there aint nothing but Playa's only where the playa's be spinnin a lot of dough Honies got ass bouncing on the floor This is how we behind the playa's door I like it when you flip that bump that roll that shake that drop that rope that Make it go clap clap I like it when you flip that bump that roll that shake that drop that rope that Make it go clap clap Playa's only where them chicks be checkin their bodies Up in the club where they get real naughty Take um from here to the private parties where there aint nothing but Playa's only where the playa's be spinnin a lot of dough Honies got ass bouncing on the floor This is how we behind the playa's door |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(The Game)
Yeh this is killa Cali, live as a motherf**ker man Niggaz hoppin of off LAX's Can't wait to see the sunshine, the palm trees, the beautiful woman I love it man, nineteen years and runnin', this is my home, feel me (The Game) Y'all must think it's all chips and championships in LA I got niggaz from San Diego all the way to the Bay E-40, Dre, Tash, Ras Kass Quik, Cube, Kurupt, and Daz Big Snoop, Xzibit, Nate Dogg, and Ren Too $hort, B-Legit, The Click, and Mack 10 Big Solo, Kam, CJ Mack, and WC Jayo Felony, Suge Knight, The Outlawz, and Warren G Knoc'Turnal, Bad Azz, Goldie Loc, and Tray Dee Short Khop, Big Face, MC Eiht, and Shock G Ant Banks, Richie Rich, Eastwood, and Suga Free Bigga Figga, B-Real, Cypress Hill, and Ice-T Rick Rock, C-Bo, Battlecat, and Crooked I Yukmouth, Sean T, Kokane, and Big Wy San Quan, Second II None, and Soopafly King T, Rappin 4-Tay, and All From The I Dru Down, E-Swift, Baco, and Technique Mac Mall, Dazi Bitch, Shaq and D.O.C. Chico and Coolwadda, Tyrese and KD Mailman, RBX, Shade Sheist, and Wy V C & W, Chill, Hittman, and Hi-C DJ Yella, I Flow, The Ganders, and Double D Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., The Farock, AMG Ra Ra, H.O.P. and Butch Cassidy All my fallen soldiers rest in peace Along wit 2Pac, Mausberg and Eazy-E Essays, Bloods, Crips and all the thugs And all my killa cali niggaz stay given it up uh Yeah if I left you out man holla at me, my bad it's all love |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(Chorus: The Game + JT)
Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang Compton to Fillmore here we go again In L.A. they havin problems, the Bay we pop collars Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles (JT the Bigga Figga) They can't cop what the bricks'll cost But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss Leather gloves with the tips to toss But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss Smash down at the V.I.P. Street smarts is crucial for young niggaz in the CX-3 Drop Jag with the price to pay Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin like a ice capade Got the feds lookin twice this way Cause we shuffle the P's in different places that the {?} name Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real When you turn 15 get your stainless steel Whole squad been trained to kill, we official And switch to get rich now we after the meals Hard times got cakes for 3 When it's havin a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga (Chorus) (The Game) I got guns, guns, guns, guns Guns all over the club We in V.I.P. strapped, security know that 25 deep, guns up under the throwback That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq And more guns than the Nickerson Projects Niggaz don't want beef with me Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin shit but the sheets is free And ain't nuttin to shoot the club up You don't want drama in this motherf**ker throw them dubs up Jacob got the wrists on chill And N.W.A. chain glow like the memory of Ill Will Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free You're now rollin to the sound of the Game and JT (Chorus) (JT the Bigga Figga) But you can't come with the rest of her friends Cause you know I'm a boss and won't play cause she short on my ends Make rounds from the back of the Benz With the {?} that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend The things we go through I'm beatin ya brains Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game While they knockin on the do' I get deep in ya dame Gotta charge you a G just for speakin my name (The Game) I'm not eatin your chocha or payin for the coach ma I'm a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma 6 in the mornin, you stretchin on the sofa Singin "Ain't No Nigga" like Foxy Brown and Hova I f**k 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em f**k the both of us You know what it is, the gangster's back And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at I'm ghetto (Chorus) - 2X |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
Uhh, uhh, gangsta gangsta yeah
Uhh, uhh, it's gangsta gangsta yeah Uhh, uhh, shit I'm livin gangsta gangsta shit Yeah (Chorus: repeat 2X) I'm from Compton, Compton, Murderville You heard these niggaz is gangsters, and they kill Rob and steal, my niggaz will peel at will For real they real, niggaz gon' feel this steel (The Game) Walk with me through the ghetto where the packs get sold And them niggaz sellin the work ain't half as old as the fiends and the hippies, same ones smokin since the 60's Everybody yellin gimme, gimme Every nigga in the hood, one hand on his jimmy Other hand grip the semi, c'mon walk with me Every ten houses, one got 'caine for sale And I give you a dope track like my name Phar-rell And you can get that stainless steel Walk in my Chuck Taylors for a day, if you think it ain't f'real When I buy rocks homey baguettes on my ring And only neighborhood watch is my Tecno Marine Keep a (Mac) on the block, I ain't talkin 'bout Beans QB in the hood and I'm far from Queens The boys in the hood is always hard So come through and get smoked like a Cuban cigar (Chorus) (The Game) I'm from Compton, Compton, a block from hell And you can come get a bird for eleven And we ain't got a penny for the reverand, a dime for a witness Only (Church's) in the hood sell chicken (ba-KAW) Every nigga in the hood sell chickens move work like city buses You fuckin with the Hub City Hustler The vans on the block won't touch us, the streets my home So I move weight on the block like I'm Moses Malone Bring the guns anywhere I roam, go with the chrome And I hit all my shots, like I'm in the A.I. zone And mob like Al Capone through N.W.A.'s home Homes like Ed Jones will cripple your team up In the home of Dr. Dre, Venus and Serena Where 14-year-olds pack ninas and drive Beamers We ball up subpeonas, take niggaz to the cleaners And you know what I'm talkin about if y'all seen where.. (Chorus) (The Game) We drug dealin, but niggaz is squealin (fuck you rats) What more can I say, just kill 'em Fuck 'em, the gun bust 'em, we just knock on wood Now is this under-stooooooood? I mostly George when I whip, my supply is good The man behind the bricks, I'm supplyin the hood Catch bodies like Pistol Pete passes on the wood Benz parked by the fence, brick stashed in the hood Top work by the inch, I bag it, it's gone Ask Quik, we rock more than microphones Some niggaz ball, some niggaz do what we do And other niggaz sing for Cash Money like TQ The block will heat and sink you (hey dude) Cali ain't all palm trees, purple haze and sea dude Lose your life tryin to get these jewels I keep the 40 cal wrapped in chrome like R2-D2 (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(feat. Blue Chip)
(Intro/Chorus - sample) -- Don't cry (5X) don't.. -- Don't cry (5X) don't.. (The Game) Amayah wake up baby I know you're sleepin, but daddy's home now Pictures gettin old, my lil' girl lookin grown now Your moms said you're talkin on your own, walkin on your own now Run across the kitchen floor in them baby drawers I sent you from off tour and I miss you when I was tourin Smilin at them baby pictures, so happy, tears pourin God how can somethin so beautiful come from me? After the gunshots thought you was done with me But I know I'm livin now, why you made me put the guns down Pick up the mic, start rappin for a living now My sun, my moon, my starts, my earth My wind, my fire, my life, my bay-bay Tryin to make your moms life ya must be crazy, fussin and fightin I know she love me cause ya look just like me Day you came into this world I was so excited Eleven twenty-one double-zero, my baby girl is here (Chorus) (Blue Chip) Yo, yo, you see this rap shit I do it for you And the first time I heard your voice I prayed to God it had to be true Got a son now, cuttin the game, stoppin the bullshit Remember eyein your enemy, can you pull quick Dipped out Cali, came back, snatched my son my girl moms and I moved out Maui Yeah your pops gone bananas, seen wild went hard Bigger house, wider yard, nappy with the crash bar Off that hersh', shit you stupid, you ain't no dad nigga Takin your black ass to court for all you have nigga You see me and your moms, that's another topic Ain't no whip in this world with a price you can't cop it Stop it, press rewind, you didn't hear me right It's a lesson to the song, I'm tryin to steer you right Just remember your father taught you to go hard or go home Never sing that sad song, don't cry (Chorus) (The Game) Huh daddy ain't gon' preach to you, I'ma let your moms school you Don't let the streets fool you, streets'll do you, that's why I'm talkin to you (Blue Chip) Yeah, you see these niggaz out here, have you stressin by the hour Never turn your back on your foes, them dudes cowards (The Game) Some days sweet, and some sour - but we gon' make it together The world is ours, and you're my flower (Blue Chip) If it's ice you can get that, model chicks hit that Never stress about the downfalls just 'bout the getback (The Game) And I ain't sayin sex is wrong, just make sure he strap a condom on And never, ever do it in your mother's home (Blue Chip) Yeah, never call a girl a bitch, show respect, son pop ya collar Ain't nothin free, scrape and lock every dollar (The Game) And I will leave you with this, my lil' angel, daddy loves you How I'd die for you, cry for you, ride for you (Blue Chip) Yeah, switchin handles like you breakin a zone, candy paint Impala On the Golden Bridge, bouncin on chrome (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(feat. San Quinn)
(20 second instrumental to open) (San Quinn) Drama is real, like not wakin up I'm breakin up grounds when this patriot thrust Your mouth is on shut, your emotions are hidden For you to handle your business, you are more than driven If you kill it no more standin on that corner like a stop sign Everytime you spotted they call it shot time Not at the gym but in the grim reaper's hands You important if a bullet hits, injure your plans This is not an adventure, but a full-time duty If you seen how niggaz hit the club, they pullin out uzis Sometimes bruisin and grazin, mostly takin No more sleep for the shooter, no more of that hangin No mo' trustin hoes you ain't know fo' ten plus No mo' smokin with the homies, no mo' late night clubs Cause the victim, is ready to stick him like a mousetrap I'm 'bout to rap, you better be 'bout peepin out cash (Chorus: The Game) If there's blood on my Nikes I done murdered a nigga If the stash spot smokin I done murdered a nigga San Quinn got a hurt for the nigga, it get worser for niggaz We take this beef shit further than niggaz Streets are shady, the Game got curtains for niggaz All-of-a-sudden-ass killers never heard of these niggaz Have your whole family cryin a river, we'll murder you niggaz We take this beef shit personal nigga (The Game) I ain't met a nigga yet could fuck with this rap vet I'm the realest since I came in the game on Kam back Rest in peace to Mausberg, gotta live with that Keep the M2 on my hip, I live with that Eat with that, sleep with that, come get me Four-fifty put somethin through your son Easter basket Six in your truck, get you each a casket Put termites in your box let 'em eat your cabbage A wife right here, see if she can weave through traffic Everybody gotta die, when the beef is active If you know Game, you know I'll never give free passes But I give choices, how you want it, metal or plastic Life is real, pedal to traffic, no spots on my tail Cops on the payroll so me and Quinn live well And I can still get a nigga the hill, your bitch as well Shotgun got mo' punks than shells (Chorus) (The Game) See the Escalade got 'em runnin downhill, snowball niggaz We throw vapors out of truck windows, blow our figures Suede corners out the sunroof, the fifth or the Ruger Broad daylight, blow the windows out of your Cougar Move in the S5, plus my, leather dust fly Spark up a dutch, Game put niggaz in a coffin too much Turn niggaz kids into orphans too much, In God We Trust - nah Keep the fifth close like Starsky & Hutch Your daughter cryin it's just {?} tuck, but so what Blow the dutch, southpaw bust out your whole fronts Have you eatin soup for months, broken jaw, lick your shit out of straws I guess I got that same ol' harm I ain't for play, the Game is raw Specialize in death jackets, here try these bullets on And next time have all my cheese cause if you owe me Guns O-U-T, we all gon' squeeze (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(feat. Get Low Playaz & Young Noble)
[21 seconds of ad libs to open] [Chorus: repeat 2X] Exclusively, ridin on them deuces G Talkin 'bout what your gameplan used to be They got us choppin up game through the fog and smoke We came a long way but still we got so far to go [Verse One] Yeah I know I got 4 to go, so with these bars I flow At a pace for the papes I thank y'all should know I lace it properly for property, it really ain't no stoppin me And plus I'm tryin to get my money on like Monopoly Politickin economy, if I could be a made nigga Smokin on e'ry nigga, balled out paid nigga Keepin it real, I'm still deep in the field Deep with the skills for the bills I got the million dollar mouthpiece with no gold grill I bring the thrill like Will Clark I will bust I will spark and flame in the booth You blind you shoulda saw it when I came in the booth I serve the thunder, that shit that'll brang in the roof [Verse Two] My niggaz, stack riches, mack bitches Blow fast Swishers with my folks, act vicious with my folks Sav livin with my vo-cals, Outlaw like my nigga No-ble Fuckin bad bitches at the hotel There's nothin to a boss, man we live it up Smash for the cash and respect so when we mash niggaz give it up I got no time for that fake shit Jersey to the Bay niggaz thuggin even bitches thinkin they sick So nigga basically the world is a ghetto Play a nigga out his scratch, he gon' be twirled in a meadow I keep it real with niggaz that be true to me There's nothin you can do to me My crew is deep and real niggaz rule the streets [Chorus] [Verse Three: The Game] Lace your Timbs, polish your gators, we like odds in Vegas You can't ball then it's probably the haters Can't breathe then it's probably the desert, if you a gangster or not I give a fuck dawg, bullets is hot And every nigga gon' cry when he hit The more pain the more blood drain, he ain't survivin shit And your niggaz ain't gon' ride for shit, they know If they came through everybody in the X-5 is hit Red rag or blue rag, niggaz die for this The Game the reason all these niggaz on that "Cali Love" shit Compton niggaz get grimy too, pull you out of that 6 Fuck you up like one time'll do And I dare y'all to stop on the 'Shaw, and King Boulevard Pull it hard, Doogie Howser pullin bullets out your jaw Turn your round trip into a one-way ticket You can visit, but you can not lie and kick it [Verse Four] It's time for me to shine, life on the grind, life on the line Feelin like I'm runnin out of time It's now or never, chasin this cheddar 'til things get better These streets got me hungry as ever Can't stop can't change, young Sav stuck in the game Everyday we gotta hustle and slang, struggle and strain To bubble, weed plus the 'caine to juggle Organize the brains and muscle [Chorus] [Verse Five] You {?} like Sammy did Gotti, told 'em we kamikaze Like those whiteboys ain't heedin the robbery Told 'em we ride around in them cars on them big wheels In the killing field makin 100 bills on the P-700 Pirelli wheels Marshall Faulk in to ball again in this day to day scrimmage 'Bout the spinach this game is relentless where we livin Niggaz'll 32 round ya, kick you on the ground After they down ya, sneak ya and plot ya, Heckler & Koch ya Got ya body bein scrutinized by a flock of doctors Still an unsolved mystery, statistically, history A Get Low nigga victory by fuckin with my credibility |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(feat. Blue Chip)
(The Game) I'm from Compton where them guns bust, watch Poppa George pop Cats tellin jokes at them car games Seen big face hundreds, handle the rock like Nate Archibald What? This nigga only sixteen And I wanted to be, just like him, middle school fightin Any nigga with a chip on his shoulder, whattup nigga? You want beef with me? Now I let the heat speak for me No more talkin, just outline chalkin Nigga Witta Attitude from birth, "100 Miles and Running" Gunnin bustin shots like fuck the cops Notorious for burnin blocks, weavin in and out of traffic and chop Game the young Robin Hood of the block Steal from the rich, give to the poor, coward niggaz rock Second comin of this black Alfred Hitchcock Kick in the door, wavin the four-four Ten shots to your spleen, let them violins sing (Chorus: Blue Chip + (The Game)) Yo, I'm just a ghetto nigga stuck in this game, young'uns runnin with 'caine Rain hits so we floodin the game When you come to Compton respect the grounds, leave you shook man (And I look good, from Compton to Brooklyn) Hey yo I don't give a fuck who you are, fuck ya ice Fuck the block that you claim, fuck your Bentley Azure (Dead presidents is all I represent) ('Til y'all met me y'all niggaz ain't met gangsta yet) (The Game) Fast cars, money and muscle, the hustle I was brought up in the 80's Gangbangin, dope traffic, shit get crazy From where niggaz grow up hard like dicks raised Them hustlin guns like Knicks players, we got mouths to feed 'Til they put flowers on me, moms kiss my cold cheek In that pine box, I'm buyin rocks, eyein cops Fuck a cell block, the young kid makin it happen Who you think got them fiends runnin back like Bo Jackson? I'm a gangsta, what else could I say? I'm ahead of myself like it's Y4K 2Pac, Scarface, N.W.A. Taught me how to dodge them bullets, keep my wig in play Keep fo' snug in the waist or pay a thousand to have 'em Niggaz in the street move faster than, Michael Jackson's album But the shit don't really matter to me, we get better G Bet the four slow 'em down like PCP (Chorus) (The Game) Real gangsters never talk shit, handle they business Fuck the dry snitchin and bitchin, niggaz die when them bullets fly Who fuckin with him, ha? Not a nigga alive End up dead in that 5 He got no sympathy for them dead guys, friend or foe Watch that chest cave in, what that vest savin? Make it sloppy for the autopsy, leave my enemies in a frenzy On the frontlines holdin a 9 Everyday a new chapter, my own niggaz plottin on me Tryin to hit me but they won't get me, feel the semi first Fuckin with my dough, is the worst way to go Y'all know, niggaz cry when them bullets burn slow dummy In and out of spots watchin my money If one dollar come up missin bodies start to come up missin No one too heavy for the Expedition, piss on your corpse Watch your soul shiver, throw him in the river, bitch nigga (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(The Game)
You can catch five, or catch me in the CL-5 Whatever way dog, the Game get live Keepin it gangsta in a P.D. city velour Late night I'm in Dublin's and I got myself a four The hood love me, hoodrats gotta hug me Pop ex, spark the buba, the shit get ugly Rock the mic anywhere, and I ain't talkin 'bout a concert dog Talkin 'bout ten niggaz in Converse dog Get it crackin like we out in the yard, and the warden's watchin Only difference is the whores is watchin Still love to see a nigga, roll up on 20's Hop in that six-four, roll up on Bentley's like I'm a gangsta bay-bee, from the C-P-T Run with the (Pound) like I'm from DPG If it's beef, you C-Murder like it ain't No Limit And I represent the P like Russell Simmons (Chorus: repeat 2X) I'm a neighborhood superstar, get it, right Got it? Good, okay It's the Black Sox and Get Low we get dough In the Yay they pimp hoes, in Compton we six-fo' (JT the Bigga Figga) I know ya, love to watch me, 'specially when I'm lookin rocky The trey with the broccoli with my handles on the Kawasaki Handle my jewels with the cuff in my shoes AD jacket on my elbow, 50 coast the jewels In my neighborhood I'm Young Bill Gates, never shuffle the cake So cover my face, and run up in the place I'm a superstar, dick and my chain, glass bezel and bang 80 karats on my pinky and rang Crews buzz when you speakin my name, cause I'm deep in the game With top cool thangs and million dollar planes I'm a maniac, young boy gone, like a young Roy Jones You ought of my zone and ain't nobody home In my neighborhood, produce stars, stakes is high Now we soarin through the spacious skies Drop yo' body with them cakes and ride, the handle is up Switchin gears with the pedal and ride (Chorus) (The Game) I'm a shining star And I gotta hit the boulevard in that new Jaguar Why he move through traffic like that, purple haze Ralways, the Ojays, the gangsta lean so Please believe that I keep two G's in my jeans Two gats in my sleeve, two rats in my Beam' X-5, mami let's ride Weave in and out of traffic from Compton to Bed-Stuy It's the kid from the far West I, oh, shit He know how to do more than flip pies Get money like them stick up guys Them "Ocean 11" licks got the young kid rich for life And I talkin 'bout a movie or George Clooney I'm talkin 'bout, runnin in your spots with uzis tucked in the Coogi Dude me? Naw truly, might lose your lives They say I've, got 2K2 covered like A.I. (Chorus) (JT) Yeah mayne, I told y'all mayne Fillmoe California nigga where we launch the best nigga JT the Bigga Figga, San Quinn, D-Moe the Yungsta, Seff the Gaffla Introducin the Game Nigga the first nigga I went and got outside of the Fillmoe district Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah mayne And we gon' pass him on off to Aftermath Records mayne So they can take him to the T-O-P Y'knahmtalkinbout Dr. Dre and the whole Aftermath staff, y'knahmtalkinbout? But this album right here, this a Get Low, JT the Bigga Figga production My nigga Charlie-O on the beat, y'knahmtalkinbout? And we keepin it real thuggish mayne, Bay Area style nigga Black Wall Street, now let's get MONEY! |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
Father you give us power to speak the word fatherYou sayWe have but to ask with a sincere heart and it will beSo we thank you for this spoken word fatherYou say that when one or more come together in your name your presents will be feltSo we now only ask to feel your presents we need to feel your presents fatherWe thank you for the blessings you have given us this dayThings that people don?t even realize that are blessingsThe food you have given us to eatThe cars you have given us to driveThe cloths you have given us to wearThe money you have given us to spend
The lives you have allowed us to touchAnd the lives that have touched our own We thank you for all these things father in the name of jesusWe thank you again for the power of the spoken wordI pray that by the end of this day this word which is your word coming through my mouthWill touch someoneAnd save someone?s lifeIn jesus mighty name I prayAmen amen |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(Chorus: repeat 2X)
Real gangstaz stand up, hold they dick Bitch niggaz sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you? I'm the type to pack a gat or few Pull out and pop, simply cause I'm mad at you (The Game) Y'all niggaz see me when I'm come through; and ain't no denyin that them big motherfuckers is twenty-five Swayin in and out of white line, six double-oh Deuce zeroes, I'm feelin like the streets is mine Mines hustle, mucho dinero, heat's confined See more fall guys than Foreman/Ali combined If there's beef, I'm releasin mine And I won't stop bustin 'til them Escalade seats recline The kid roll with a greasy nine, come through and blast I return shots like Arthur Ashe You do the math, ten shots, ten dead bodies Fuck bein sorry, it ain't nuttin but a gangsta party And I'll make sure ain't a nigga survivin Shoot up the ambulance, make sure it ain't a nigga there to revive him And the Game ain't tryin to win, fuck the awards So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong nigga (Chorus) (The Game) Trust me dog, ain't shit you can put in your rap that'll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that's that Niggaz thinkin I retired my Chuck, put the gun back in the holsters Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster But that don't stop the heater from bangin, or me comin through Droppin all y'all niggaz with three in the chamber Keep two mac-10's when I'm rollin, one in the changer One when I push the button's right next to the cupholder Dog we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game Let's say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain Ain't gotta look over my shoulder, I'm good with the aim Good with the handle and the bullet's good with the bloodstains And the coroner's real good with that pickup A1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time Put you niggaz next to each other how I do 'em in line (Chorus) (The Game) Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home If beef cook then I'm bringin the chrome If I die then I'm leavin a clone; but if I live through the drama one mo' time then them boys gotta dig When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big When I'm rhymin on the road, I listen to Jig Bump Nas off that purple, sittin on the block And when I'm loadin up them clips, I listen to 'Pac A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo' guns than F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S got jerseys And you might get 'em all in the face when shit get thick Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey And ain't nuttin to do a driveby in the hood We ain't even got survival, but I'ma still take that ride Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it Think this shit a joke? Bet the S-5 pink on it (Chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(Verse one)
f**k it yo who the best mc on the west? by far its me and in my car is a continental tea and my broad in that continental suite with the armadell rollin up dutches like that motherf**kers beef with the kid click-clack motherf**kers let them bullets burn your six pack motherf**kers get jacked motherf**ker when you come to compton get a mack motherf**ker when you come to compton i walk through times square holdin my johnson a cross style make a jada make a run threw yonkers i got d-blocks like the locks and these glocks like to pop and n**** i like your watch so roll over you can die with the jury first n**** take the stand to testify he gunna die with the jury and i might kidnap the judge or send a team to lean on you so the D.A budge i got n****** that'll ride for a grand so handover my rock or like earl manson you can die where you stand or you can die with your man i'll let you jog for about 30 seconds then you gunned down (chorus 2x) you know this gl shit we got g's on the line or g's on the squad all week on the grind and if you doubt that step up 'cause we aint hard to find street kings in our prime you want us then come and try us (verse two) ima take it to the next take it to a motherf**kin neck pull up on a n***** holdin triggers n tecks we droppin square beads you easy to read this is the end of the road for whole ass mc's smoke grass by the pound glock holds 17 rounds and the flow'll knock any n**** down rap you like a burrito come threw and kill you and your people tell them that i shitted on you n***** like i was a flock a seagulls infared beam like a traffic jam at night handle any man in sight with his hands upon a mic wanna light i got the torch im the best california a north for any n***** puttin flamed on a porche and never drive on bitch your gunna die on san quinn for and five catch a live one bust shots at the clouds so we can shine some get up off ur ass and n**** and grind some (chorus) flash f**kers on the tip of the gat you can put on flat but ill kill that ill open u up like a mat even if u heard'at i squirted and murdered a man and these new school n***** talk like we heard of them plans two two millimeters got up up in your man gettin off on you n***** and your mini-mans only thing runnin is blood n***** so gimme a grand so we will bust your head n**** straight through your hand or get off in yo ass n**** like jackie chan and when its all said and done it's a one will stand gunnin this motorbike feelin this power man 185 miles per hour man i stay cooralatin with the taliban i show up (show up, show up, show up, show up) n***** talk about money they forgot the struggle try to paint a perfect picture they forgot the hustle pieces of a puzzle guzzlin pints watchin the moonlight in the sun light more gun fights penetentary fly three kites ive seen more pussys turn to mics than mices turn to man so n***** take the stand get stomped by another mans hand got me naughious in my abdomin got me servin grams again grams rapped in rubber bands 22's on them rubbers man slow rollin dro blowin im gettin rich you see my fro growin ho's knowin i pimp them to the fullest respect a gangsta you can shoot but i eat to the bullets i shit missles eyeballs look like crystals my shits official its your man motion man and merifrista yo yo yo yo its luke and everything i sit on fat n***** be like oh shit how a n**** shit on that? y'all see a n**** grit on tracks f**k with the red beam get a n**** hit on that f**k with the real thing not the 760 the reason that they took the fair team to get me you dont want it with my dogs you got teeni guys i mean itsy bitsy little tiny weeni guys i done seen them guys bought as big as my gats and aint even got enough strength to pull on that you want real hard core shit i be on that cop the xlt u put threes on that put cheese on hats when luchi goes n squeeze on gats and leave these on flats g's messin low they got g's on that and have your momma outside screamin please dont clap (chorus) |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005)
(20 second instrumental to open)
(The Game) Who really the best rapper since 'Pac got killed I done answered that question when I copped my deal Ask yourself when the Game is comin, after next summer I predict my shit'll drop before the next Howard homecoming Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggaz who want it I got a four-fifth and it just like me, it stay gunnin Me and my niggaz stay blunted fogged up in the 600 Guilty as charged, blunts in the air, guns in the doors It's written, Compton niggaz never run from the law Plus we get Monopoly money with hotels and a board So I'll never see a jail, and I'm allergic to bars Can't sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we travel with ours Poppin Crist' in the 6, like we drivin through Mardi Gras Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I roll through the city And I keep 16 in the clip, and I let 'em all go like the Lakers did Ellie, Atty and Nick, huh (Chorus) When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin Payback come through violent, nigga We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent, cause When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin Payback come through violent, nigga We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent (Sean T) No garbage we smoke molta, move big cocoa We off the train tracks like the great space coaster We hit real big and consistant like Sam Sosa Prepare for war, like United States soldiers Lock tight and rock right like grey eight oz's I'll be hittin up spots, in them flip Range Rovers Before you even try to play, foolish all over Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over We ball out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest When we roll by the quads in them Z-66's Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed Always dirty never clean but we live like kings Legendary like Sting, it's a history to follow But not known for stingin known for gettin off hollows Shoot me a glass of Remy, nah f**k it the whole bottle And watch me act bad and take off, full throttle (Chorus) (JT the Bigga Figga) I'm from a batch where it ain't no cut, we all in 36 on a triple beam scale for meal Duffle bag on my shoulder my route, through the back of the jet To bag up baguettes and everybody know it I'm the iceholder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up My favorite color is rainbowed up Ain't a coke dealer, but I got bricks for cheap Hit the lab for a fo' day block, we got heat You niggaz can't compete when I walk in the streets We Get Low, and there's no idea with the info It's a rule of thumb, let them dudes a come I'm cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some I'm in the widebody XM-5, all my snakes is live We check your five, the spot where the tec dies And everybody gotta holla the name It's JT from the Fillmoe streets to CPT |
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from The Game - Untold Story/ Chopped & Screwed (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
I Made You!
Yes I Made You! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! I Made You! I Made You! I Made You! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! Theres no batteries in my back I show you niggas how I move (Move Echo) 50 ain't gangsta Lloyd Banks ain't gangsta Yayo ain't gangsta Young Buck, you know you ain't gangsta You at what you niggas made Ain't that a bitch Created a monster Kicked me outta G-Unit Put me in converse Matter of fact give me a dick Just like Olivia so you can suck my shit Gimme a pen So I can be the hardest in the click Wind me up nigga then gimme some lips So I can talk about ya faggot Niggas aint no thugs While im at it tell Young Buck gimme some white gloves So I can cover my fingerprints in ya blood I need a get away car you can put it on dubs Make sure its got a stash for the 38 snub And a Banks album cuz thats where I got my buds Gimme muscles like 50 Gimme Yayo hands Gimme a collection plate for Ma$e fans Gimme some glasses so I can watch Mason dance Who movin? You singing? Nigga gimme ya fans Gimme a tattoo tear Gimme some ears so i can hear police talkin when you disappear I made you I made you I made you I made you Mr. Potato Head I Made you Yes, I Made you Mr. Potato Head I Made you! I Made you I Made You! Mr. Potato Head I Made you! (You Echo) Theres no batteries in my back I show you niggas how I move. Yayo: And I'd like to thank game cuz hes mr potato head of the year, 'n' you kn.. a put together gangsta! Rolling through Connecticut In a stolen mini-van Stop at his house I dont see many men Matter of fact I dont see any men One plain clothed cop call him Lieutenant Dan Officer why ya man tryna beat up my fans? Makin me 5 times platinum wasnt part of his plan Same shit same snitch You know how it goes I smell a rat even if you take off my nose And i bet every quarter in your piggy bank Lloyd told N.Y.P.D. who got 50 shanked Next time when the lights go out I'm pulling a desert eagle when the knives come out Watch that man get ta tussling and the mice run out Don't gamble with ya life when my dice roll out I made you I made you I made you I made you I made you Mr Potato Head I Made you! Yes I Made you Mr Potato Head I Made you! I Made you! I Made You! Mr Potato Head I Made you! Theres no batteries in my back I show you Niggas how I move (Move Echo) 50 aint gangsta Lloyd Banks aint gangsta Yayo aint gangsta Young Buck you know you aint gangsta (Phat Rat talks) G-G-G-G-G.... NOT! You bitch ass niggas Check this out man I'm not gonna be playing these mother fucking games Mr. Potato head now you wanna be a comedian nigga This shit is R-E-A-L nigga! Real nigga Black wall street Wait wait Like I told you last time It's THE black wall street you bitch ass nigga And Oliv... Excuse me OLIVER! You punk mother fucker I'm still taking heat from my niggas For looking at your mother fuckin' ass nigga You somebodys son You bitch ass Nigga I'ma catch up to your ass nigga Muscle mouth ass bitch Thats alright though nigga G-U-Not nigga This is black wall street nigga Tell me where you at Thats all we need to know nigga Cus this is real nigga This is the streets nigga Brazil & Wilmington nigga In case you didn't know nigga Thats right in the heart of COMPTON You Bitch ass nigga And Olivia Get that mother fucking lil' ass red Mother fucking shorts off your mother fucking ass on that video Everybody can you see your balls bitch ' The fuck is wrong with you My Niggas know I tried to holla at your bitch ass nigga Ima fuck you up nigga It's your fault 50 Snitch This is Phat Rat nigga In case you forgot nigga Double! Mr. Potatohead I Made You! I kill who is my enemy I don't give a fuck If you talk shit I make you a follower yeah You crack me up kid Your stupid I'm much more agile then ever Got more style so yo whatever Whatever Whatever (Echoes) |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
[Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)]
(R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!) We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride) [Verse 1: G.A.M.E.] Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed Tight grip on the Escalade pole Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44 Gun smokin' like Suge cigar Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car If that thing come out, its murder she wrote If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat Nigga, we do this everyday Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay Knock a nigga out on the ave today Bring the mack ya way me and Santana Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out [Chorus: Bezel] Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest Cause, we Certified Gangstas Stash the mill' in the house And I kill in the drowt That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth Cause, we Certified Gangstas |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... chronic, chronic, chronic, chronic
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... hydrolex, drolex, drolex, drolex It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Westside, Westside, Westside, Westside It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Compton, Compton, Compton, Compton (Breakdown) It's not that I can't stop, It's that I won't stop, I make it hot (I do it) I'll be on top, as soon as the beat drop, I'll make the whole club rock (I do it) (The Game) Lace my Air Ones up, put my gun up I don't need that I'm riding wit Dre Who don't love us, every hood throwin they dubs up Who the fuck yall thought was comin after Young Buck hip hops worst nightmare, Mr. Gangsta Rap is back in black nike airs You want war, we can settle it right here I got a squad, E V E and Busta Rhymes yeah Or you could give me ya bitch, her with the light hair Sit her next to these yellow bottles, tea right there Matter fact I'll take you in the back you in the hat, and you in the blue and the black Lets have a gangsta party Somebody lean over and tell Banks to order another case of fortys Yo Doc give them a coke with that, wake up the west coast is back (CHORUS) (I can take you hiyaaaah) Show you how that low rider bounce off the flo' - You ain't know? (I can take you hiyaaaah) It's the muthafuckin chronic nigga thats whatsup - roll that blunt (I can take you hiyaaaah) G-Unit, Shady Aftermath I'm the motherfuckin Game and (I can take you hiyaaaah) (Breakdown) (Game) + (Snoop Dogg) Like Dre did, I created a buzz without a single like N.W.A. did From the hood -liquor- store to the state pen This is gin and juice the doc made the club R.O.C. without Timbaland boots First nigga to put drolex on a bentley coupe You wanna pimp? I perm my shit up like Snoop (Westside) Chronic 2005 muthafucker, put the purple in the dutch "Let it Burn" like Usher giirl Drop down, do the eagle, fuck that Real niggaz just pull up they pants and lean back giirl Make 50 spill his cris, he'll call you a bitch I'ma call you and hit , you can ya girlfriend, we can make it a flick I got the lollipop if you wanna lick Or you can take a ride on the magic stick (CHORUS) (Breakdown) (Game) Put 25's on the hummer, why not I'ma be here for the next 10 summers Drop me in the 4th quarter I'm fuckin up they money I don't need sound scan I'm doin my own numbers When that impala bounce you can see the chrome under I got em' in every color yea I'm a known stunner When I hit a switch I get higher than long jumpers low ridin with a hood rat or a grown woman And I'll do anything but I won't fuck Mariah Even if she had Ashanti butt naked in bed cause she got a forehead just like Tyra I can say what the fuck I want, you thought Dre retired Left me in 6-4 his Dayton wires These niggas is a waste of rhymin, Doc got somthing to say be quiet (Dr. Dre) Look out for Detox (CHORUS) (Breakdown) |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
(Intro: Game)
Ahh shit G-G-G-G-G ... G-G-G-G-Unit I thought all that beefin was over man Squashed it man, been there done that Somebody had to gon' on and f**k it up (Game) No more Bleek and Buddens I was hopin' for silence Till the little sleeping beauty, went and woke the giant This little bitch from The Luniz want beef he liein' So I called E-40, and tried to seize the violence I got niggaz on the island, for puttin' in stainless work With vaseline on they palms, gettin' ready to +Bang Em Smurf+ (you little bitch) I here him screamin' in Compton, sound like my bitch cummin' You wasn't never f**kin' with G-Unit, quit frontin' For domination be Lisa Leslie, a big woman With a nine on the back, I'm gonna catch that bitch runnin' Shove a .40 in his throat, now nigga spit somethin' And get lost boy, go visit your big cousin I got fish to fry, throw a line in the pacific With cocaine on the hook, for this +Luniz+ ass nigga You a bitch, how you call your self the Ice Cream Man When Master P took your name and your ice cream van Made 500 million, that's your homey though Took your man hood, gave your shit to Lil'Romeo This nigga, 5 foot 2, talkin' that big shit You got +5 On It+? that money went to Chris Hicks Tryin' to diss Too $hort for doin' his pimp shit Nigga you been gitten f**ked, swallowin' big dicks Pac knew he was a pussy, that's why he ran south Signed to Rap-A-Lot, they never put his ass out Hid behind Lil' J, all the sudden you thugged out Ran back to the Bay, sleepin' on wannabe 'cause couch How you drop 5 albums, don't own one house Or get the boss to call me, Banks, and f**k out It's G-Unit bitch, let me show you what blood bout When my blood pressure rise, I bring the bloods out Put the barrell on his neck, blow his guts out (*gunshot) Now that's whats you call a +Yukmouth+ (Outro: Game) Yeah, you little faggot ass bitch Yeah nigga, on the motherf**kin' internet with that faggot ass footage nigga You little bitch ass nigga, Domination, nigga I'll put braids in your hair motherf**ker See how you like when it's motherf**kin' 50 Cal, nigga Blow your motherf**kin' brains out nigga, i'll braid your hair you little bitch Back to you nigga, nigga with the dreads, you f**kin Jafakin Motherf**kin' faggot ass nigga Yeah I seen you in the club nigga, asked you did you had beef with G-Unit nigga Nigga you ain't say shit nigga "That ain't me man, that was C-Bo, man, this Regime, this Regime, man, Bay area, Bay area" Man i'll beat the shit out you, you f**kin little punk And when I catch you nigga, you gonna need Dr.Dre to get my motherf**kin' G-6 out you ass You bitch, you faggot ass nigga, and don't try to turn the Bay 'gainst me nigga I got niggaz in your town that will f**k you up Vallejo, Filmoe, San Fransico, Sac-town, Oakland Compton's most nigga G-G-G-G .. G-G-G-G-Unit Thought I was done huh? you little bitch I ain't finished with yo' ass yet nigga, when I see you I'ma beat the shit outta you nigga To a motherf**kin' pulp, on camera nigga Since you like playin' with little camcorders and shit you motherf**kin faggot And I got a mill on that, what the f**k is 5 dollars nigga G-G-G-G-G-Unit |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
New jersey devil
Hahaha Dont worry about me I aint no body Im jus go come sit down o..a... By there n then ima get the fuck outt yo way so u can goo goo....im get all the way out the way ahhaa Bitchh Niggas gotta v12 engine out til i bust that chrome Screamin like that hollow tip crush that bones When i call 50 banks young buck is on They bring heavyy |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
[The Game]
(State your name gangsta) The Game (Where you from nigga?) Westcoast (You gon' hold it down?) We always do around this time [The Game] I ain't leaving motherfucker, I'm back You've been away to long, I can't do nothin' bout that The hood askin' me Why I do Bleek a tragedy? Than drive over Brooklyn Bridge with Cassidy I rode down flushin', in a Rove down flushin' The hood show me love like I was Hova down flushin' Compton's Most, where the Yonkers flow And I got love for Queens and the Bronx fo' sho' Got squares blowing that Cali Drove muahfucker And I off shot like Aly Mo at the rucker Yeah the bird Flipper in Houston with the surve sipper I'm nice around Mikes words in pimpin' Got a mean knuckle game, I learn my dipppin' In '87, when Tommy Hearns was stickin' I hear niggas dissin', why you have to use Jay? Let that man retire Motherfucka its a new day [Lil' Flip] (State your name gangsta) Lil' Flipper (Where you representin'?) Houston all day (You gon' hold it down?) You damn right [Lil' Flip] I take it back to the block, them automaitcs'll pop You try to snatch my watch, yo dumbass gettin' shot I got the block on lock, and when the shit get hot Ima switch up spots, I'm your boy I'm breakin' bread with my homies, I'm bustin' lead at you phonies I fuck your bitch when she lonely That's every other night I flip your wife for the green They call me Hustle Man Nigga, my money too big for a rubber man I'm a veteran giving fiends they medicine I'm in Compton with Game bumpin' Let Me In My nigga Will in the pen, he bout to come home Hey tell these niggas I made a million of a ring tones I got a spring home down in Tampa Bay And I was raised out of Scarface and UGK Now its my turn, I want that puff money Matter 'fact that ain't even enough money [Cassidy] Yeah (State your name gangsta) Cassidy, nigga (Where you representin'?) Philly, Pennsylvania (You gon' hold it down?) You already know [Cassidy] The streets wave their head cast, cause they know the industry fear Cass I got these chicks cryin' like tear gas Used to sell dirt weed, couldn't even put it in clear bags But years passed now my dubs puffy like air bags You might see me out in Houston on Flip Block With a ?? old school drop with the ripped top Forget it I got shit locked, admit it my shit hot I'm the bestest nigga since BIG, Pac Out in tha Westcoast with Game, I let the toaster bang ya Cut you more times than the cards in a pocker game Cause most you lames when and saw my battle with Free Now all you wanna battle for free You see if you ain't got millions to bet, or put your deal on the desk You ain't real and I don't feel you a threat So I suggest you get off my dick and go vote or somethin' 'Fore you get the sawed off and tossed out a boat or somethin' (nigga) |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005)
[Verse 1]
Crip niggaz, Blood niggaz, Essay's, Asians, Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, White Boyz, Jamaicans, Latin Kingz, Disciples, Vicelords, Hatians, All these mutha fuckas been patiently waiting, Since the west coast fell off the steets been watchin, The west coast neva fell off i was asleep in Compton, Aftermath been here the beats been knockin, Nate Dogg doin his thing DPG still poppin, I got California love fuckin bitches to that Pac shit, And westside connection been had it locked bitch, I'm in the rear view my guns is cockin, I'll put red dots on that nigga head like rodman, All stars, phat laces, gun charge, court cases, Faught that, not guilty im back, Niggas hate me been there, done that, sold crack, Got jacked, got shot, came back jumped on Dre's back, payback, Homie i'll bring ur CA back, And i dont do button up shirts or drive Maybacks, All u old record labels tryin to advance, Aftermath bitch take it like a mutha fuckin man, [chorus x2] If you take a look in my eyes, You see i'll be a gangsta till I die, That California chronic got me so high, Game tell them where your from, Nigga westside! [Verse 2] I'm lowridin homie, 6 Tre impala, Gold d spinnin, chrome hydraulics Run up on my low-low you stop breathin, Hollow tips make niggas dissappear like houdini, Gang bangin is real, Homie im livin proof like Snoop Dogg C-Walkin on top of da devils roof, Rap critics wanna converse, about this and that, Cuz red strings in this converse and this a Dre track, Keep jibberin jabberin i'll pull a .38 magnum, And get the clickin and clackin, You'll homies will wanna kno what happened, Come to Compton and see thriller like Mike Jackson, I might be Spike Lee, of this gun clappin, Prior to rappin I was drug traffic, and In the dope spot playin John Madden, Homie I aint braggin, I took five, If u wanna die run up on that black 745 [chorus x2] [Verse 3] New York New York, big city of dreams, I got my L.A Dodger fitted on im doin my thing, Got me fuckin wit G-Unit you kno the drama that bring, I got niggas in Westside Compton and Southside Queens, And Buck told me in Cashville I'm good when I come through, So i don't gotta tuck in my chain like DJ Poo, I'm gangsta more like Deebo when he was Zeus, Play bishop I paint that picture now who got the juice, You niggas is nuts so, i take off ur roof, Leave your ass steched out like a Cadilac Coupe, God gotta let me in heaven all the shit I been through, I was an OG in the hood before i truned 22, Homie I'll let the .38 special rip through that vest, And I don't contemplate whether or not he left that shit on the dresser, Got Compton on my back, Im startin to feel the pressure, I'm lyrically Kool G. Rap on these Dre Records [chorus x2] |
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from The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) | |||||
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from Lil' Kim - The Naked Truth (2005)
When the sun goes down
and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop Do you see what I see, can you hear what I hear All these stu-di-o gangsters, year after year With these gimiicks I can't take it they ain't real so they fakin it How did they make it in this game for so long I know what's right from what's wrong, I know what's soft from what's hard I know a federal case, from a publicity charge Man I FOUGHT tooth and NAIL to keep them PUNKS out of JAIL But hoes wanna go to COURT'til I pay them for they NAILS Who you tryin to be? Man it couldn't be me My man spent guap and bought me my Continental T You spent your advance on your Continental T I know you sick when you clean your RIMS you still see a Bee And we see you a LIAR, tryin to DENY HER Jackie O. proved you FAR from a FIGHTER Comin at ME bitch you playin with FIRE I ain't gon' come back at you, I'm comin at your GHOSTWRITERS When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop I hear 'em talkin like they gangster material But I don't see it man their gangster's invisible The hot iron's what them gangsters put into you 'Til you laid up and your gangster's on critical SHOTS get into you bleedin like my men-e-straul And if I don't like you then I will pretend to It's the ones that befriend you that TURN up against you In the court of law and drop a DIME like Sprint do Supposed to be tough huh? 'Til them boys touch ya Chump muh'fuckers start confessin like Usher I cut you off cause I knew I couldn't trust ya Lame ass bustas, backwards-ass hustlers You fake phony, you always was lil' homey Big lil' son bab' boy like Jody I put you under my wing, bought you your first Roley Nigga I helped raised you, why would I play you? When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop You see it always be them ones talkin this and that How they knife game ILL and they gun go CLAP Them niggaz rats, they run and they trap 'Til they run in a trap, and there's no comin back It be the SAME ones talkin 'bout the guns they sparkin The dogs never bite but do a whole lotta barkin A whole lotta growlin 'til the wolves start howlin They pitbull shit, man them niggaz straight cowards Got 'em scared to death, pissin in they trousers Always was a bitch that's why I sent his ass flowers Thanks to the Queen he can share 'em with his team You can run top speed BUT YOU CAN'T DODGE THE BEAM Got a CLEAN 16 and my spit game mean Don't be fooled and deceived, everything ain't what it seems You act like you don't know what side of town this realer Niggaz softer than chinchillas but on wax they killers When the sun goes down and them guns come out Them niggaz that was talkin they won't run they mouth When them shells start poppin, bodies start droppin It's so quiet you can hear a rat visit a cop |
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005)
(KID)
Whos under there? (50 Cent) Its 50 Cent (KID) Mom theres ghosts under my bed!! (50 Cent) G-Unit! G-Unit! G-Unit! G-Unit! (Shut the fuck up!) G-Unit! G-Unit! (Aww shit never mind its just the Ghost Unit, fucking faggots!!) G-Unit! G-Unit! G-Unit! (Chorus) Whens something strange, in your neighberhood, Who you gonna call? (GHOST UNIT!!) 50,Buck and Banks, in your neighberhood What are they called? (GHOST UNIT!!) (GAME) Its time to put the end to the bullshit, Wanna scrap wit young hommie? Jump in the bull pit, Fake ass wanksta you aint no crook, And I got g-unot all over queens and brooklyn, Compton,ny to ATL and Chi-Town, After 300 bars your whole crew lock down, An all u gone do is sing about me, Cause u cant do a muthafuckin thing about me!! (G-Unit) Its 50 Cent! (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) Young Buck! (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) Lloyd Banks! (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) Its the talk of New York, Tony Yayo! (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) (KID) If you guys still under there i got the documentary in my i-pod bitches. only lil wiggas listen to that massacre shit. Man, no one scared of u guys so just shut the fuck up and wut the fuck is yayo doin wit his hands and shit and mother fuckin look like casper fat verison.. fake ass flava flav and shit (Chorus) Whens something strange, in your neighberhood, Who you gonna call? (GHOST UNIT!!) 50, buck and Banks, in your neighberhood What are they called? (GHOST UNIT!!) (KID) Man I won this fuckin G-Unot Contest (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) and i got to bring olivia to my school for show and tell (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) and the bitch whipped out a fuckin dick man (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) that was the hottest shit in school history man (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) now i got all these bitches on my dick and shit (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) even the black chicks man, they love me (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) and game told me im the only white kid in the world (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) That Can call U A Punk Ass Nigga "I approve that!" (I Aint afraid of no Ghost!) (GAME) 50 punk ass aint nufin' in the streets, So he poked his chest out and signed Mobb Deep, Nigga you a bitch when its time for beef, All you gon' do is hide behind M.O.P., An I can respect that they just gettin' their cheese, They thugs but what about M-A-$-E? Even worse what the fuck you gon' do about me? Push Yayo back to Christmas eve! |
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from The Game - Ghost Unit (2005) | |||||
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from Notorious B.I.G. - Duets: The Final Chapter [Expicit Version] (2005) | |||||
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from Too $hort - Pimpin' (2006)
[The Game]
Uhh Hey yo $hort, they ain't ready for this one nigga Yeah Whatever you want I got it, ammos, cars and chips Yards of sniff, flood the boulevard with bricks Hard or soft, raw get flipped, B.I. slash O.G. Know about hoes, broads and strips Hatchback I stuff 'em all with dicks, nasty nigga Whup mo' ass than Steven Seagal in flicks Like, it's a Spike thing, I do the right thing Smack ass silly, bitches call me Sweet Dick Willie Cause my cum, tastes like Now or Laters So it attracts like strawberries and crocodile gators On backs like a scout for the Raiders Turn wifes into hoes so if your girlfriend blow, then she go If she ain't legal, she can't mob at Teddy's We can't bump and grind and I ain't Robert Kelly So act like the broad in _Belly_, face down Ass up, that's how I like to fuck [Chorus: unknown female] Whatever you want I got it If there's money to make, let's spend it Whatever you need, come get it And it feels so good to me - I'm wit it [Too $hort] I'm lovin life, what'chu want me to say? I'm tryin to tell the whole world, they goin dumb in the bay They don't care if you don't like it, it's fun anyway We smoke bomb in the bay on a sunny day It's rainin buds, comin straight from Humboldt Got a blunt rolled, a trunk full and still want mo' It's not enough, light it up and get fucked up You got a rat in the hood, 'bout to get sucked up Yeah bitch, shut up and swallow the nut Or turn around, and let me shoot it all in yo' butt Cause I'm a freaky nigga when I get these sluts And you a nasty girl, you like to lick these nuts So when you call my phone and say pick me up Cause you want me to shove this dick in yo' gut I'ma do it, fold you like a 50 dollar bill Fuck you real good and say, "Bitch how's it feel?" [unknown female] Feels so good to me {*3X*} Feels so good to me - I'm wit it [someone] Ay 'Face man why don't you let these punk-ass niggas know what time it is [Scarface] I don't wanna let these niggaz know what time it is Because if I let niggaz know what time it is Then niggaz is gon' tryin to use they clocks to try to set they time to mine Dig that [The Game] Uhh Hey yo $hort, they ain't ready for this one nigga |