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Konu: Doctor's Advocate Şarkı Sözleri

  1. #1

    Üyelik tarihi

    Red face Doctor's Advocate Şarkı Sözleri

    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....

    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!

    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!

    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!

    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]

  2. #2

    Üyelik tarihi
    çok güzel parça

  3. #3

    Üyelik tarihi
    [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

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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.

    [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

    [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

    (feat. Bluechip, 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

    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)


    [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


    [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
    Konu Soprano tarafından (13-Haz-2009 Saat 17:38 ) değiştirilmiştir. Sebep: Ardarda Atılan Mesajlar Birleştirildi

  4. #4

    Üyelik tarihi
    [The Game] > Born & Raised In Compton (Raised As A G)

    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
    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

    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?


    [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.

    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.

    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.

    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

    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

    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

    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

    (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


    [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


    [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


    [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


    [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)

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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

    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)
    Konu Soprano tarafından (13-Haz-2009 Saat 17:50 ) değiştirilmiştir. Sebep: Ardarda Atılan Mesajlar Birleştirildi

  5. #5

    Üyelik tarihi
    çok güzeller

  6. #6

    Üyelik tarihi
    [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


    [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


    [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

    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

    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

    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
    Konu Soprano tarafından (13-Haz-2009 Saat 18:04 ) değiştirilmiştir. Sebep: Ardarda Atılan Mesajlar Birleştirildi