Soprano Oluşturma zamanı: Mayıs 27, 2009 Paylaş Oluşturma zamanı: Mayıs 27, 2009 Yo Bus, I think I got.... the answer to all my problems... [busta Rhymes] The fuck you talkin' bout, n***a, what's that? [The Game] Belevedere... and Banana Snapple [hiccoughs] [busta Rhymes] Look.... get your fuckin' ass up, n***a, you over here trippin' on yourself, n***a, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig! [The Game] I'm a man... and most of these n***as, they don't know how to be a man... I got a son... [busta Rhymes] The fuck you talkin about, n***a, come on, n***a, let's take yo' ass to the crib, n***a, you tired, n***a. And put the drink down, n***a! We gotta go, n***a! [The Game] One more shot.... [Chorus] I didn't mean to walk away, But I hear every word they say, I guess my mind just drew a blank, Like la, la, la.... Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage, Reminiscing about my day, Wit' your blood all over my slate, As the devil says, la, la, la... [The Game] [Verse 1] Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you, But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do, Remember, I'm from Compton too, I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits, I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92, I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you, I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru, Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice, Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop, Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots, So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you, I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do. If every n***a hated him, for that black bitch track, And n***as stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped, When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap, It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that! [Chorus] I didn't mean to walk away, But I hear every word they say, I guess my mind just drew a blank, Like la, la, la.... Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage, Reminiscing about my day, Wit' your blood all over my slate, As the devil says, la, la, la... [The Game] [Verse 2] I never said thank you, and I took it for granted, You let me in your house and made me a part of your family, Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes, I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed, And even though sometimes I run loose, You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you, I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef, But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!', Now it's my turn to carry the torch, And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source, Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch? I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that! Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques, Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap, It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that! [Chorus] I didn't mean to walk away, But I hear every word they say, I guess my mind just drew a blank, Like la, la, la.... Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage, Reminiscing about my day, Wit' your blood all over my slate, As the devil says, la, la, la... [busta Rhymes] [Verse 3] See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger, The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the n***a, Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do, But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you, See when I first met my n***a, son was laying in the cut, Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut, Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut, I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck, And as time went on, and he was working with the finest, I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance, You gave him something that could make or break a n***a you should face it, So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it, With the potential to be a strong n***a with conviction, The only problem was our little n***a wouln't listen, But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap, It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that! [Chorus] I didn't mean to walk away, But I hear every word they say, I guess my mind just drew a blank, Like La, la, la.... Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage, Reminiscing about my day, Wit' your blood all over my slate, As the devil says, La, la, la... [busta Rhymes] Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, n***a! [The Game] I'm up man, I'm up... [busta Rhymes] We at your crib, n***a, get the fuck outta the car, n***a, get up, man! [The Game] This ain't my house... my house is.... is green! [busta Rhymes] The fuck you talk- look, come on, n***a, let's go man, let me walk you up to the... come on... n***a where the keys at, n***a we need to Open your door, n***a! [The Game] I got love for you, Bus', you my n***a... [busta Rhymes] Nig get in the fucking bed, n***a, go to sleep, n***a, you tired, n***a. And don't fucking drink like that no more, man, you fucking look like Ned the Wino, you drunk motherfucker... [The Game] Just goin to the studio... [busta Rhymes] [Laughing] Go to sleep, n***a... [8 Bar Verses] Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
monkeybusiness Yanıtlama zamanı: Mayıs 27, 2009 Paylaş Yanıtlama zamanı: Mayıs 27, 2009 çok güzel parça 1 Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
Soprano Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 Yazar Paylaş Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 [The Game] > 300 Bars & Runnin' My mama took me to Sam Goody's I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD I took that shit home That shit was wack like a motherfucker Don't fuck with Game I like 50 Cent He reminds me Spongebob And Tony Yayo is Blues Clues And Lloyd Banks is Dora the Explorer They're my friends Psyche I went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in Harlem Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD Took that shit home, put it in my boom box Thought I was 'bout to be on some radio Raheim shit Man that shit sound like some Vanessa Williams '88 I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a man So this Black Wallstreet for life now GGG-UNOT! 300 Bars and Running Just loan me your ears for 15 minutes Walk with me Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober Like I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little closer Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed Why would I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back Defending his yard, yeah, standing his ground I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square Watch everybody sleep through it We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines speak to 'em What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly? See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly Compton camcorder said Curtis Jack in Philly Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly I forgot my cheese steak, that's what I told the cops So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot Label's signing many things, still searching for they Pac I put purple on the block So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot Ask 50, it get lonely on top You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop You sell records but a GGG-u not! Acting big on the radio, to me you not You can ask Mr. CCC who hot Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you flop Run up on that new 300 C you got Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop And I hope you black out before you see the cops I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar Block So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's spot I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back I'm still by your side, no matter who comes strapped Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap It's about when the Ruger clap, is Rufus back? I see what you thinking, you want me to die, is that so? Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let's go! Drop them off, then the sound like Esko I'm a say 'he hit me first' if me and Dre talk All Nas said back was he had a ?? Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me captured Even behind bars, I'm still gon' shine I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine Then I go right back, nigga I pop mines How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop dimes I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls 1-800-split a faggot nigga wig He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge Now your career is over, career is over We in QB, banging CNN in the rover T-O-N-Y, that's Capone and NORE You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring Take that shit off nigga, go back to PC And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3 I'm airing their ass out on DVD You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me I'm a G-Unit toy soldier On Sesame street doing voice overs Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes We was in the studio, when I first got signed He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines That's the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more time Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef mine You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne? He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that Then you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo back The underground is mine, I treat it like home It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones The underground is mine, I treat it like home It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones The underground is mine, I treat it like home It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones I said The underground is mine, I treat it like home It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than music Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer Both feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Running And I beef with any nigga, say my name muthafuck I'm gunninYou can put it on skee if you want it I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs Don't hit me on the sidekick asking what you did Get a gun or ask 50's police to use his Cause Bloods gonna get ya Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops Or broad day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes Cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake For caking off niggaz on them CD's and tapes Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese cake Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay Not the instant replay I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit Niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep Tell Ecko to make him a suit Tell Reebok to make him some boots Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings Take my advice, never wear air max for the game Unless you one of the Bloods, or a Latin king Cause if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer They will stab you in Folsom then fuck you on Rikers And Life Goes On Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself Nigga stop acting tough before I stand over you Show you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger Fase yelling that's enough, let the coroner bag him up Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' backing up Reverse the '05 hearse on 41st and traffic, what Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass 'em up The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em In and out of lanes like a New York cab I miss the Old King, that New York had Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga? Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you got? We getting tired of you talking about who you shot I'll use another six bars to tell you who you not You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta Get Rich or Die Trying, we thought you was hot Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop C'mon man, what happened to the thug? Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging Nigga got mad when The Game start buzzing So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing slugs Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go Nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O Cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group Just wanna sit here and wait To be gone, so I can head back to the block Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted Pull the brim low, if they don't get it Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it Four times platinum, I done been there and did it Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it They say the Lord Givth, if Lord take it away So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day Niggaz hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay Let me out so I can drive down criminal way Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay Cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page Similar to them shells going into my gauge I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into grenades And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got game Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain Now back to reality, my gun and my vest And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet Jacob Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em And the flow is hot like that wit Satan And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons The hotter I get the more willing to snake 'em So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars When Game in the house, they they calling all cars Cause they heard about what went on in D.C. Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50 Now tell me do he got a conscience? I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference I'd rather be pushing rock, like ?? 50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the convict What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common Now that ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen The flow is noodles, I throw it up like vomit And I still shine like diamonds They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman It's still Aftermath, two feet in the paint, shit I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't because I'm in the hood politican, Impala liftinAnd I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing Then re-up like Kim before the d-cup Continuously getting money with my feet up Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move back While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats We miss ya'll, can I get a hand clap? Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped? On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP They won't know which hole to patch up, when the 'K' clap I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga? Say my name now that's your fucking ass nigga Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga Now I gotta lay you down like the last nigga Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47 This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O And you don't want that David 'cause you love your life Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifes Motherfucker I'ma show you who the gangsta All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta? When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO 50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow Then he made you temporary replacement for Yayo You a bitch, and that's hard to swallow And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago I call my nigga Jojo to get it back He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to find I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine Take one shot of Brandy and pop Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxed Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck Reeboks I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots 280 in, ain't no getting me back I'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef? Now whenever motherfucker, who wanna see me? In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace You don't want war nigga, you want peace So give 'em the peace, capiche (sp?) Let 'em rest in peace From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplaceable Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in Got the weight of the world on my shoulder Not a nigga nor a hood rat bitch can stop me from taking it over This is crack music, go get the baking soda 300 Bars and Running, nigga the wait is over I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone -------------------- [The Game] > Around The World Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah I know you're sick and tired of waitin on me girl But I'm, just tryin to get my money right So let some dumb nigga take a flight So I can take you all around the world Planes, trains, automobiles Bentley or a Range, chromed-out wheels First class ticket, G-4, you that deal For real I can take you all around the world She like black Bentley Coupes, black Day-tons Black interior, black ridin shotgun Black fo'-five, black Air Ones Bangin "The Black Album," track She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite If it's gon' get me the pussy I'ma play that shit If she bite too hard, I'ma say that shit But don't bite me bitch, I don't play that shit Marques Houston, I don't play that shit By the time we got halfway through watchin "Ray" I hit I laid it down beat it up, let her go clean it up Take a five minute nap, wake up and eat it, what The it's part two, in the sauna Feel like I'm fuckin Mary J. cause she don't want, +No Drama+ I'd rather take yo' ass to the Bahamas Then give you 30 thousand a month like Diddy baby mama [The Game] Picture me thuggin, picture me lovin you Like Bobby love Whitney now picture me fuckin Pullin your ponytail smackin you on the ass Tellin you how (I can take you all around the world) That nigga can't do it like this Even Beyonce couldn't move it like this She only fuck with +Soldiers+, that's her shit I hate to admit it but I love my bitch So much, I'm sittin outside in the Benz Thinkin back to Dre's house when I fucked her best friend The pussy wasn't nothin; now I'm dealin With +The Diary of a Mad Black Woman+ with Louis Vuitton luggage She told me she was tired of The Game and rap Quit like Ma$e then she came right back I told you the bitch sex was wack And you're all I need, even Jamie know that [The Game] You know what they say, more money more problems more drama Means more marijuana and less baby mama You know I love you like I love my shoes But even white Air Force Ones come in twos Yeah, I like her, and I like you too What's wrong? She my bitch and you my boo She got a Range Rover Sport, you got a Bentley Coupe She take my clothes to the cleaners, you take Harlem to school I gave you your Burkin bags, so I made a mistake And Oprah don't fuck with them no more anyway I'm sorry for the bullshit I put you through But I ain't goin nowhere, I got a kid wit'chu Why we always gotta argue about Superhead's book? She sucked my dick with a condom on, after that I shook And when she start talkin 'bout buyin a ring I just turn the volume up and let Jamie Foxx sing Around the world with me yeah Around the world with me, ayy Around the world with me, hey Mmm, ohh -------------------- [The Game] > Bang [K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off [G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off [D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off [K:] What? [D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on [The Game] Gettin' my bang on, red strings on Luis Vuitton kicks, Luis Vuitton frames on Luis Vuitton belt holdin' the fo'-five You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside [Daz] This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag Gangstas we love to sag, we cock it back and blast Like booyaka-booyaka, we lay the party down G-G-Game, Dogg Pound [The Game] Everybody get down [Kurupt] Look nigga... I nurture and breed I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitches needs And bitch niggaz try to invade our town I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out [The Game] Say goodbye to the '6-4, hello to the '6-trey He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face Up, down - now watch my shit scrape Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip Walk to get Dre and Blood Bounce back, heat on the track Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back Like that like that? like that [K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off [G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off [D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off [K:] What? [D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on [Daz] We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic When I did it I must admit it, so nigga go and rep it Lil' homies around her constantly on smash mode Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole Bang how we give it, the culture that we live in Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree N.W.A., Dr. D-R-E [The Game] We not S-T-A-R's, we don't put stars in our shoes Bitch we put the whole car on the shoes You don't wanna see my car on the news I'll "Set It Off" like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina [Kurupt] Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass It's hood niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at Two milli macks, semi-automatic situational attack In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black Like this and like that Bang, broken like glass and plastic Bang out on him with the mask and plastic We got access to massive plastiques Purchased last week, D.P.G.C. Bang [Chorus] [K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off [G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off [D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off [K:] What? [D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on [The Game (Kurupt)] Here come them outta town niggaz, what up Blood? (What up cuz? They don't even know what 2Pac first album was) Should I tell 'em Blood? (Nah, fuck 'em loc) Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes Dash, brake, bounce and scrape Run up on the '6-4, see the AK's Bang like Eazy, Bang like Dre Bang like Snoop, Bang in L.A. Bang like Crips and Bloods From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie get stripped in the club Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club You like ice creams? Get a banana split in the club No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs Remember that [Chorus] [K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off [G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off [D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off [K:] What? [D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on -------------------- [The Game] > Blacksox "Blacksox" (feat. Bluechip, JT) [JT] Another G-Man Stan production The originator of this 808 shit in the Bay area You got your boy JT the Bigga Figga thuggin it out with my young nigga the Game, and my homey Bluechip Blacksox, oh boy! Hooked up with Get Low Records Puttin this shit together, my nigga It ain't a nigga in the game that could hold me down I've been independent forever so they know me now And I'm the cat they gotta find when they wanna get signed You wanna get your paper right you gotta study my grind I'm like Rush in "Krush Groove," a nigga that bust moves right out, and tuck tools, bullets that bust dudes Ain't no beef in the briefcase, just beef for Pete's sake We round up cats, to beat 'em in a street race We count paper up, to make a nigga change his plans They under weight so they ain't gettin off they gram You mad at my boys, cause we choppin 'em in They make twenty then the Fig want 10 That's the rules that the Get Low, play by The block boys stay high, California stock with K-5 It's the rules that the Get Low play by Them block boys stay high, the California K-5 [Chorus: The Game] Huh, it's the Blacksox doin a joint together The whole world stoppin to listen, ol' breakers poplockin to this And white boys headboppin in 6's, niggaz boxin in prison Shit bang hard like a conjugal visit And the game ain't big enough for niggaz so move over Matter fact, move out, we takin over Them boys is comin, and they aimin straight for the neck The B-L-A, C-K, S-O-X [bluechip] Yo, yo, well it's the B dot L dot, you know the rest Wanted by the feds, hated by the ATF You can catch me at the DuPont Inn, two dykes swallowin gin Shorty sucked me out of my Timbs My bad, that's your wife? Fuck your life Anyway I heard you workin for vice You ain't real man you hide behind ice Youse a impostor, snatch him off the roster Always live by the rule, get dough, or die tryin Hardcoded into shinin Pass the bucket now I'm back on bet it If, beef was erased man my tool gon' finish Never been the loudmouth type Sugar Shane of this rap shit, southpaw when the mac spit Listen rookie, don't make me mad boy Or you gon' be like Big, a dead (Bad Boy) [Chorus] [The Game] Huh, niggaz think they got the game sewed, yeah right I'm air tight, fresh in them Air Nikes If the Navi outside, I might be there Black hoodie, black 9, black wifey airs Rock guns like Caddy trunks, keep a spare You see the lump under the Iceberg fleece and gear And when the beef cook, I'ma put the piece to your head And if you see a white truck that mean yo' sheets is dead Then I'm goin goin, back back to the block to dump the bucket and jump in the drop Niggaz know I'm good with the glock, they call me Chick Hearns Cause if the game on knot, I'm callin the shots I'll wear a shiny suit for a minute like I'm The LOX Then get gangster with a swap meet bag and a Jordan box And when I die, bury me with the glock, and a bucket of shells In case niggaz want drama in hell [Chorus] -------------------- [The Game] > Bleek Is [The Game talking] The young Roy Jones of this rap shit Somebody bout to get knocked the fucked out tonight man You better tell your boy somethin, you better tell him somethin [Verse 1: The Game] Skip through the blueprint one bang this what's mentioned Bleek you're one hit away but he didn't know The Game was pitchin Balls faster than roger Clemens nigga you're too big for your bitches Two gold albums and I'll make you a hitter Might make you a little richer but don't forget the big picture All of those make you a fag but money like Little Richard Take your faggot ass picture put it next to Gulliany Run you for your roc-a-wear fit and beat you with the Tommy Drag your ass down to Alby Square Call Beans, Jay, Freeway, Biggs, Dame I'll be there Compton behind me ask Nas queens is with me You ain't never sold crack in your life I'm takin your fiends with me My guns smoke like Robert Downey Two shots and a pound he got a room in Kings County And you might live or sit in a box Depending on how long it NYPD to respond to the shot [Chorus: The Game] Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek [Verse 2: The Game] See what the problem is too much east coast dick lickin And everybody tryin to do their best 2pac rendition Listen they wonder how I live with 5 shots Niggaz is hard to kill on my block When you was in the streets comin of age I was in the streets pumpin the gauge While you was rappin I was makin it happen On the block with a k While you was with the roc on the stage I had rocks on the stage On headliner for the front page we know that you front You be on sunset doin what? Gettin your punk ass stunt You gon respect us or that fo' rippin through the vests And you know who you are deaf nigga'll get the message Malik or M-E-M-P-H Bleek Fuck around and be a B-I-T-C-H sleek Cuz all that yappin dude will get guns clappin dude And stop Memphis from rappin dude, huh [Chorus: The Game] Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek [Verse 3: The Game] It took me a little while but I am now understandin Jay fucked up in the first round when he picked olo with candy Did olo in the second, nigga take it from me The Roc get knocked off the bounce till you picked up beans Add freeway to the team but move the ugly bitch Trade the Marcy reject for Cam'ron and Lil' Chris Now the squad 5 is live 6 man is Neef Fans in the stand yellin out fuck Memphis Bleek You want beef I have your body parts all over New York Leg in jersey arm in Brooklyn head buried in central park You can't even borrow from New York no more like john Storch And I ain't talkin to him I'm talkin to Malik And I got a pine box for a nigga like you Streets is talkin how many real niggaz like you Hit LAX remember when you come to the coast Niggaz don't play with they lives when it comes to the toast [Chorus: The Game] Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek...Memph Bleek Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
Soprano Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 Yazar Paylaş Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 [The Game] > Born & Raised In Compton (Raised As A G) Aight Now everybody wanna know the truth about a nigga named Game I come from the hub and every ghetto ain't the same A lot of people already know exactly where it's at Cause it's the home of the jackers and the crack whispered Compton Yeah that's the name of my hometown I'm goin down, in the town, where my name is all around And niggaz just be hatin and shit, that's a pity But I ain't doin nuttin but claimin my city See my lyrics are double or nothin provin to suckers I can throw 'em Pass the natural 10 to 4 and six-eight before I go Not really into freestylin, or tryin to promote violence But they gotta know about the five-five-fo', so And that's how I'm livin, I do as I please B A young gangsta put in work on these Cali streets And everybody knows that you gotta be stompin If you're born and raised in Compton [quiet scratching:] "Born and raised in Compton" [The Game] Nowww Compton is a place, where all my niggaz chill dog Til I found out, the streets get real dog Bout a year ago, somebody musta wanted me to die Cause they kicked in the door, and gave the young kid five They musta thought that I was gon' play the bitch role Cause I lived through fo' five six holes But I ain't goin out like no faggot-ass clown They found, they couldn't keep a gangsta nigga down So here's the burner in your face motherfucker silly sucker ass clucker now you're duckin cause you can't stop a Y.G. Gangsta, cause I'm true to my game You're lame, and thangs ain't gon' never be the same Cause a nigga like the Game is takin over I really don't think I should have to explain Oh yeah I'm a dog but my name ain't Rover And I'm the kinda nigga that's feelin no pain Sometimes I have to wear a bulletproof vest Because I got the C-P-T style written across my chest A gangsta motherfucker never ceasin to impress My name is young Game so you can fuck, the rest I'm comin like this and I'm comin directly Cause niggaz gettin all stirred up, I'm doin damage quite effectively Rhymin is a battlezone and niggaz can't win Cause I'm a gangsta from the C-O-M-P-T-O-N -------------------- [The Game] > Business Never Personal [The Game] Yo, when I'm out in Oakland, catch me in the silver and black Coupe With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue When I'm out in San Fran, the P.D. real nervous Cause they know I'm packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey Nigga, it ain't nuttin for me to empty a clip Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip I know about gangs, had shootouts with plenty of Crips I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks So ain't nuttin you can tell me, about the game Come with beef and leave here without your brains And I'ma drive upstate and try to bounce this 'caine In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain And you know I got the South clickin Cause ain't nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens So fuck with my D and get found wit'cha mouth missin This ain't about you and me it's about business nigga [Chorus: repeat 2X] It's business never personal, real live on blocks If we ain't movin the rocks, then we movin the stocks Cross a hustler motherfucker you'll arrive in a box It's the true to life struggle 'til we arrive on top [JT] They don't understand me, like the Birdman I got candy Put the herb in, I got family I'm doin 85, in the 50-mile-an-hour lane Tryin to handle my business, the Figgaro stack change Independent tycoons (tycoons) - yeah My niggaz puff trees, snort coke and chew shrooms Bad to the bone (to the bone) And cain't trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone My whole crew dirty, fuckin with amphetamines Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines Now the streets knowin (knowin) And I'ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens Still blowin Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse, gold knock them bitches outs We take trips out to Houston and D.C. For the West coast, nigga can you feel me? [Chorus] -------------------- [The Game] > Cali Boyz [The Game] Yeh this is killa Cali, live as a motherfucker 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 kill a cali niggaz stay given it up uh Yeah if I left you out man holla at me, my bad it's all love -------------------- [The Game] > California Vacation Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up nigga, Sipping on Gin and Juice fill up your cups nigga, The Westcoast back crackin' like it's 94', So bitch get on your knees and give me head like it's 94', And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop, I'm the Doctors Advocate call it a sneak peak, at the mudafukn Detox, take note grab a pen, And let the world know the west is ridin' again, I Graduated from Dre's school top of my class, Treat my switches like my bitches got me dropping that ass, Still bangin' the chronic like doggiestyle came with it, And I roll a sticky on my bitch back while I hit it, I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that, 5 million records on 1 plaque I hung that, Still got Dr. Dre low ridin' in the 64', When you see us, throw it up for the fukin' Westcoast. [Chorus] My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, We low ridin' in the Westcoast, So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast. My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, Still low ridin' in the Westcoast, You should take a trip and visit the West coast. [Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg] Check game, im'a show you how to bang, Uncle Snoopy is it true you from that money game, All the time neph' I gotta let my nuts hang, A chest full of chains a left han' wit' a pinky ring, I'm in a steeler caps, Swisha Sweets peel em back, My lil' hood rat, baby got that mini mack, Baby got that 20 sack, baby got plenty that, Whatever you send it's my nugga, we gonna send it back I'm in the club, with the snub, getting' love, With 20 thousand Crips and 20 thousand Bloods, And we don't give a fuck about none of ya'll, And when you hit the city, you better holla at the Big Dogg, I done seen niggas hit LA and get dey chain snatched, Then they call me up, beggin' me to get dey chain back, What I look like the mudafukin Police, It's certain rules you got to follow, when you in these streets, Especially when it comes to this Cali shit, And I ain't talkin' bout hangin' in the valley Bitch, Gang bang niggas all up in the alley Crip, On some real talk nigga we the real Westcoast. [Chorus] My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, We low ridin' in the Westcoast, So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast. My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, Still low ridin' in the Westcoast, You should take a trip and visit the West coast. [Verse 3 - Xzibit] Damn, I heard blue rag niggas ain't fucking with the red rag niggas, On the Westcoast (Fuck you mean), Shit from what I seen, red and blue can make green, Black wallstreet and X-o-leen, Since jealousy breeds hatred, hatred breeds violence, Violence breeds enemies more permanent silence, California alliance, is more important than ever so throw it up, We low ridin' together (YEAH!) Make the Westcoast rise forever, esse's B's and C's represent your letter, Got Game the go getter, Xzibit the rhyme spitter, Snoop Dogg the boss, We gangster at all costs, ya'll niggas is so soft and pussies so fuck off, For one of my niggas draw that hammer and dump off, This kush you gon' cough, (Cough, Cough) Yeah inhale the smoke, Bandana hang, Bang the coast my nigga. [Chorus] My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, We low ridin' in the Westcoast, So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast. My heart beat for the Westcoast, We pull the best weed in the Westcoast, Still low ridin' in the Westcoast, You should take a trip and visit the West coast -------------------- [The Game] > Church For Thugs [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 I'm stayin' in Air Nike's 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 İ88 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 İem 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 İem 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 -------------------- [The Game] > Compton {"Gangsta boogie, gangsta boogie! Gangsta boogie.."} Nigga nigga nigga I'm from [Chorus] (Compton, Compton, Compton) It's the home of America's gangsta rap The place of danger where The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"} The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"} Where the cops is crooked, and them bitches is killin And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas, where The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"} The {"Gangsta boogie"} - nigga nigga nigga I'm from (Compton) [The Game] Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires Hip-Hop on lock like some muh'fuckin pliers Me and Will.I.Am yeah we take niggaz higher Niggaz talkin shit get your fuckin mouth wired Walkin through Compton, Eazy still alive Raider hat to the back throw your dubs in the sky My flowetry wicked, sit back while I kick it And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick from a ese, nigga I could write an essay About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin In they Che-vys with a bitch ridin shotgun reppin L.A. Crips, Bloods, homes goin loco My glock to me, is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo Sittin in a low-low, on chrome spinners Nobody drop nuttin this winter, nigga I'm from [Chorus] [The Game] Nigga I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin, "We All in the Same Gang" Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gangbang I do both cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin West coast Kick the door open, Will let's go Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best yo Hard like Timbos, blowin on indo Niggaz try to play me get stretched out like a limo I was shoppin crack when Dre was bangin my demo And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O. Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk Can I get a moment of silence Will bang the instrumental .. I spit for my niggaz in the line-up that'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up First album sold 'em out, Impalas rolled 'em out Cause the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about [Chorus - 2X] [The Game] Welcome to the city of G's Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas Fans got us in-the-scope&Interscope, like Jimmy Iovine Cause we (Ruthless), like Will before the (Black Eyed Peas) Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV Nigga get another job, hip-hop is not hirin I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin I just might put out "Detox" myself Smoke so much, I check in detox myself One man army, took out Reeboks myself Fortyfive in my khakis gotta watch my health I'm so hard nigga, glock 17 quick draw nigga Like the old me, 17, sippin malt liquor All black khaki suit, all black Converse Nigga I'ma keep on stompin comin (Straight Outta) [Chorus - 2X] -------------------- [The Game] > Don't Cry [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] -------------------- [The Game] > Don't Need Your Love [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] -------------------- [The Game] > Don't Worry "Don't Worry" (feat. Mary J. Blige) [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 Bandanna, 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 tattooed 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 Saint Tropez 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) Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
monkeybusiness Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 Paylaş Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 çok güzeller Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
Soprano Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 Yazar Paylaş Yanıtlama zamanı: Haziran 13, 2009 [The Game] > Drama Is Real [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] -------------------- [The Game] > Dreams [Verse 1] I woke up out dat coma, 2000 and 1 Bout the same time Dre dropped 2000 and 1 Three years later the album is done Aftermath presents: Nigga Witta 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 the 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 wall turned black,like I was starin outa Stevie Wonders glasses It's kinda hard to imagine,like Kanye West Comin back from a fatal accident, to beat makin' and rappinBut, we da future Whitney Houston told me that, it's gon take mo' than a bullet in a heart to hold me back [Hook] Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Marthin Luther King had a "DREAM!" Aaliyah had a "DREAM!" Left Eye had a "DREAM!" So I reached out to Kanye and "brough you all my dreeam!" [sample playin "It's cuz I love you!"] [Verse 2] I had dreams of fuckin' an R'n'B bitch like Mya When I saw dat ass on a front of that King Read the article in a magazine She loved gangsters, loved nasty things So I'm the glass house havin' nasty dreams! Good girls neva' 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 about bein' Unsigned Hype Till I was crushed my Dave Mase, almost let my pen fall asleep on a page Daydreamin' yesterday Dozin' on offback stage I tought I saw Eazy talkin' to Jam Master Jay So I walked over heard Jam Master say It's a hardknock life, then you pass away They say sleep is the cousin' of death So my eyes wide open cuz a dream is kin to ya last breath [Hook] Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin' the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Marthin Luther King had a "DREAM!" Aalyah had a "DREAM!" Left Eye had a "DREAM!" So I reached out to Kanye and "brought you all my dream!" [sample playin "It's cuz I love you!"] [Verse 3] The Dream of Huey Newton, that's what I'm livin' through The Dream of Eric Wright, that's what I'm givin' you! Who walk through the Whitehouse without a business suit? Compton had Jerry Curl drippin' on Ronald Reagens shoes Gave Mike Lim my demo came here to pay my dues Started of with Whoo Kid then I started blazin' Clue It was all a Dream like BIG said it be Don't sleep on me homie I bring nightmares to reality Rap Phenomenon defyin' the rulez of gravity Studied all the classic start 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, why I'm at my temple with this gun Wake up to a Jesus Piece like a Cathlic Nun The War to be a rap legend has just begun [Hook] Blushin' in this 40 ounce Lettin' the ink from my pen bleed Cuz Marthin Luther King had a "DREAM!" Aalyah had a "DREAM!" Left Eye had a "DREAM!" So I reached out to Kanye and "you are my dreeam!" -------------------- [The Game] > Eat Your Beats Alive Three wheel motion around the corner on these niggaz mayne Smashin down the block, Charlie O beat in the deck Game, what it do? What it do? They love the way a nigga hop them six-fours and shit The way I, push buttons make them Diablo doors lift The way I, stick and move, when I'm behind the wheel Of that new Escalade with the Foreman grill The way I, peel back niggaz jerseys It ain't your life, I'm just not a big fan of James Worthy So wait 'til I see y'all, I'm real surgical with the Ruger But you won't catch my face on E.R. But you might catch them dudes from the ambulance Squattin on top of ya mans givin 'em each CPR Tryin to get 'em to "Breathe Again" like Toni Braxton Told y'all 'bout comin to Cali, with them phony accents Hollywood got movies, but it ain't no actin So wear that bling to them awards like it ain't no jackers We chain snatchers twenty-fo' seven When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive Fuckin with this cash - eat ya beats alive Cause it's all about math - eat ya beats alive When you're on the West coast - eat ya beats alive When ya come to the lab - eat ya beats alive All about this cash - eat ya beats alive Nigga all about math - eat ya beats alive It ain't nuttin to spray you faggots Or have your moms get you a Burberry suit so you look good in that casket It's reversed you faggots, desperado in tact June, Drago, The Game and D-Mac holla Come through in a grim reaper black Cadillac Seven-three, ooh-wee, you see, who he With the ugliest, flows, money hungriest Oh, the kid got hoes, you ain't know? Head is never optional, get my whistle, blizzow Carry pistols, to your Sources and your Grammys Of course it's that nigga that kick down doors And leave rooms filled with corpses, Jordan and bloody Air Forces To get my dough I come back like Air Jordan Same shot, lil' older, still no nigga can hold him Stepped back, sold crack let the Compton streets mold him Big face said I could it, he'll bet you a G See I'm the nigga with the most flow Figgaro from killer Cali, reppin Get Low, niggaz know Independent with my hustle Couldn't give a fuck money or muscle it's time to bubble West coast is the place where we holdin it down Bay area thuggin, they knowin it now I'm from the home of the Get Low, home of the get dough Home where they want mo' so niggaz get they pistol Run up in yo' back do', lookin for the cheddar cheese Canary wristwatch on celebrities Diamond bezelled iced out with hella cheese And every fuckin link is like a masterpiece Catch 'em slippin comin out the Burger King Parkin lot project life, we like to spark a lot Better known as a bandit, niggaz cain't stand it My whole block gets hard like granite Alıntı Yorum bağlantısı Diğer sitelerde paylaş More sharing options...
Önerilen Mesajlar
Sohbete katıl
Şimdi mesaj yollayabilir ve daha sonra kayıt olabilirsiniz. Hesabınız varsa, şimdi giriş yaparak hesabınızla gönderebilirsiniz.