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Game, The
Game, The — For my gangstaz
Game, The — For my gangstaz (текст песни)
[scratched:] ’Livin in Compton, California C-A’ Charlie O, drop that hot shit [The Game] Motherfucker it’s the Game, mister tint the windows wit’cha brain Since a young’n up and comin, all I did was cop ’caine They try and change the Game, nigga I still cop ’caine I ain’t moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came Bitches tryin to throw salt in my name, barbers tryin to part my game Niggaz tryin to chalk my frame But I walk on a thin line without scuffin my Chucks Bad Boyyyyy, and I fuck with Puff So bring the guns if you want nigga; I’m real good with the glock And 50 G’s say you leave in a box When I fuck Lil’ Kim guess I’m feelin like ’Pac Niggaz wanna wrestle The Game, guess they feel like The Rock ’It doesn’t matter,’ 745 up and down your block Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot It’s different in my hood, only time we take shots is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block [Chorus] This is for the gangster, in me This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters pour the brew This is for the gangster, in me This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters red and blue [Verse Two] I’m worldwide with this gangsta lean, my life’s no dream I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip My thugs get crunk off Lil’ Flip State to state many shows I rip, I’m the boss of the Bay Like Clint Eastwood, make my day Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin paid In the end, all they get is played Maybe a nut, no Ice Capade Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey And I don’t give a fuck if you really don’t like me It’s in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy One of the best I might be, it really don’t matter When I bust, sucker MC’s scatter, gettin out of my way I bust bad bitches night and day I make classics like Dr. Dre, closed casket from rhymes I say [Chorus] [The Game] ... Gon’ move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis And ride with the West we got lower coat prices You know me the king of L.A., New York Drivin through Brooklyn in a fo’, same color as water You want X? I can cover the order Ninety-fo’ been hustlin now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter Not the rap martyr, or the second rap Carter Compton’s own, I’m home, not the best I just rap harder Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me Street spinnin like waves on that Continental T My grandmoms woulda been proud of me, look at your grandson now ’Til my demis, Black Mafia ties So it’s hard to let the larcent die, my {?} treys A killer changin the game like them Marcy guys And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie I’m from Compton, he from New York City, c’mon really? [Chorus]