04.09.08, 06:08 | #32 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Krush Groove Krush Groove [JT] We on our third song, we on our third song, heyyeyy You understand it, I'm official with mine; I'm double-clutchin on the fo'-wheel, pushin quarters like niggaz doin dope deals Fo' cut 50 like a verse and a half I cut the brick and now we countin the math, we 'bout that birdplay My crew's committed, you dudes gon' get it Have a seat you through when I'm finished, my troopers is fitted Got 'em posted out in Brooklyn, Hollis Queens to the Bridge We in the studio the Figgaro done did it again We got factors out in the ditch where they smackin a bitch I got homies out in the Bronx where they bustin at cops It ain't no game with the underground, came from the underground Pushin a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, never browsin JT, another boss from the Bay And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, what'chu say nigga? JT, another boss from the Bay And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, mother****er [Nina B] Hey yo it seem to me like e'rybody got they own truth Believe me I'm in them sheets like phonebooths I play the game I was born to score But I'm a lil' too cute for them corner stores A little too, known, to stand on the block And a lil' too eager to sit in the spot Mami, I'm from the Eastside, yup yes that side Heads fly if I open ya chest that wide Gimme a bad vibe end up on ya backside Or you can get your back and side splatted in back of ya ride And I can make it happen, if I don't make it rappin This lump of Satan I'm packin thrash 'em with a major passion I slash ya face and fracture you flashin in the latest fashion And have you dashin from Manhattan all the way to Aspen Your shit is whack, heard your tape and had to take an aspirin Step ya game up [unknown Get Low male] Listen, before I get up in the mornin I ask the Lord for strength Tryin to get my niggaz out the hood, you know how the forces get It's like the devil got a hold of my neck And I'm gettin this change runnin 'round reppin my set Momma used to look at me funny; she could tell her baby boy changed Must be out there gettin some money But it's a price for everything, you know how the game go For them birds niggaz'll cock back the calico Now you introduced to the beef, what'chu gon' do now? Bitch up, skid in your crib, or pull them tools out? A lot of niggaz is real, a lot of niggaz is fake A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with Jake [another Get Low male] **** what'chu heard, I startled your brain I hit the spot like a {?} in ballers and jeans On some eighty-eight shit, more "Raw" than Kane It's not my fault she looked at me - you better talk to your dame That's just, part of the game and you got served Who got nerve cause Lethal hard like Tupac words And, why y'all Chucks always actin like tough guys You must be trippin or you slippin on mudslides And in the hood you see it's different from one time What's your bloodline, play the strip to the sunshine And I don't even know why I'm wastin my breath I oughta be like Makaveli and be fakin my death I keep that good shit it's tastin so fresh And all y'all sloppy Joe niggaz yo y'all makin a mess We on the way to yo' nap, so put your tapes in the deck And spit in a hundred bars straight without breakin a sweat... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:09 | #33 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Let's Ride Let's Ride Pull the rag off the six-fo', Hit the switch, show niggas how the shit go, The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone, The D's is chrome, the frame is black. So watch it lift up Till the mother****er bounce and break, And knock both of the screws out the licence plate. Let the games begin, These other rap niggas so far behind me, go taste my rims, Shit, let the chronic burn as the datens spin. It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem, In the club, poppin' X pills like M & Ms, Call it Dre day, we celebratin', bitch bring a friend. Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round, And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down. Put your 'cris up! If you feel the same way, Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA If I could fit the whole hood in the club Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back, I turn it into a strip-club Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass, If I could fit the whole world in the club Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch Pop bottles and twist up Roll up chronic and hash, In a blunt, call it Aftermath Somebody tell me where the drinks at, Where the bitches at, You ****ing on the first night, meet me in the back. I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks, Move bitch! Who the **** you think they came to see? The protégé of the D R E, You take a picture with him, and you gotta **** me, And you gotta **** Busta, can't touch Eve, Got something in my waist that you can't touch either, That's - my gangsta bitch, and like Crips and Bloods, I'm in the club on some gangsta shit. So nigga twist up Light another dub, Bitches get scared when niggas start fighting in the club. Ain't nothing but a g-thing, baby it's a g-thing, Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string, I **** a different bitch seven days a week, Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat. If I could fit the whole hood in the club Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back, I turn it into a strip-club Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass, If I could fit the whole world in the club Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch Pop bottles and twist up Roll up chronic and hash, In a blunt, call it Aftermath Niggas thought I wasn't coming back, look at me now Look at me now, Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the mother****ing top down, I'm The Game, nigga Call your bitch, she ain't home, she with Game, nigga Remember that, Dre You passed me the torch, I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray, Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the ass scrapes, Turn sunset into a mother****ing drag-race. Now watch it bounce, Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the shit down. When you hit the club Tell 'em you came with me, We gonna twist up In the V.I.P. It's a new day, and if you ever knew Dre, Mother****er, you would say I was the new Dre. Same Impala, different spokes Same chronic, just a different smoke. If I could fit the whole hood in the club Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back, I turn it into a strip-club Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass, If I could fit the hole world in the club Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch Pop bottles and twist up Roll up chronic and hash, In a blunt, call it Aftermath... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:11 | #34 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Like Father, Like Son Like Father, Like Son [The Game] June 30th, 11:07 I got that call She 8 centimeters, my lil' man about to fall Scuffing my Air Forces, running through the hospital hall Deja vu, like I been here before I'm feeling reborn, like a Bed-Stuy brethren, my first born Dre, I'm about to have a bad boy, family in the lobby See my nigga Church, "What Up," shit I left the camcorder in the truck Running through the maternity ward, out of breath, sweating I swear to God every minute's starting to feel like a second I seen Hell staring down the barrel of a Smith & Wesson My son's ultrasound the closest I ever been to Heaven Lord forgive me for my sins, I know it's last minute Put the chronic in the air, a little hash in it Spread my wings, If only I could fly Why fight to live homie?, If we only living to die [Busta Rhymes] I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you [The Game] They say every time somebody die a child is born So I thank the nigga who gave his life for the birth of my son 11:32, she screaming at the top of her lungs I'm panicking, nurse yelling for the doctor to come All I could remember was lamaze class, breathe baby "One (one), two (two), three (three), four (four)," I see the head Doc busting through the door, he between the legs He see the head, it's my baby boy 11:46, the head out, she screaming, making crazy noise Pain is love, my stomach folding like a La-Z-Boy I'm feeling like Mariah Carey, all these butterfly's Voices singing to me, sound like Teena Marie I'm calling niggas on tour, "Jayo tell Spiz I just cut the umbilical cord" 11:57, a soldier is born, and he's flesh of my flesh, young Harlem Caron [Busta Rhymes] I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you [The Game] I wanna thank Dr. Af and Nurse Theresa, for bringing my baby boy to life You birthed a Caesar, And my baby Mama, Aliska For pushing out a 10-pound, 4-ounce Mini-Me, I still can't believe it Nose, ears, eyes, chin, just like your Daddy I die before you grow up and be just like your Daddy, or your Grandfather Call Uncle Zip, tell him I got a son and I ain't even in Harlem I'm popping Cris with your Godfathers, Baron Davis and "D-Mack" Darius Rogers Drop the top on the '71, with my face in the clouds, Lord spare my son And watch over Aaron Wright, T'Yan and Lil' Pun Lowriding, banging "Ready to Die," track number 1 If I bust 5 times and they never see the sun My life is a black hole, like the barrel of a gun, one [Busta Rhymes] I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you I hope you grow up to become that everything you can be That's all I wanted for you young'n, like Father, like Son But in the end I hope you only turn out better than me I hope you know I love you young'n, like Father, like Son My little man, your day is coming, coming, your day is coming, I tell you And when it comes, just keep it running, running, just keep it running, I tell you... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:12 | #35 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Lookin At You Lookin At You Walkin down the street, in my All Stars In my, khaki suit, doin what I do Walkin down the street, smokin, chronic In my black locs, lookin, AT you [The Game] Guess who's back on the West coast tracks It's the mother****in messiah of gangsta rap Still dip in the six-fo', still puffin on the same chronic Haters mad cause I still got it I never fall off, even without the Doc You niggaz sellin your soul tryin to stay on top Bitch nigga check your Kotex, you niggaz ain't movin shit Like the hand on a fake-ass Rolex I'm five million sold, the cover of my last album The only time you see me sittin on gold I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated Most loved and the mother****in most hated Keep rollin like gold Daytons Niggaz got the game ****ed up like Hennessy with a Coke chaser You gotta deal with me, I'm the West coast saviour Niggaz think of me everytime they six-fo' scraper What do you call a nigga who's overbearin Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his heyday in the worst way The five star surgeon general Took Jayceon to the Aftermath research department And gave him a blood test It came back G-A-M-E positive The nigga's infected with the Game virus His oratorical skills are so impeccable That niggaz in the streets call him Cyrus The young don who is down with violence Cause in his heart he's a tyrant It's not a game, it's just called The Game There'll be no referees, no halftime reports When the game is over, The Game is over You can't put a quarter in the machine and get three mo' men THAT'S, the end [The Game] I done been to hell and back Left for dead, you know who to thank for that Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track You can take my soul but can't take my plaques I'm the mother****in snare when it touch the beat I'm the 808 drum that got you movin your feet I'm the heir to the throne after the D-R-E Product of my environment, you old-ass niggaz Get ready for your early retirement Before I let hip-hop burn down I run in the building like a fireman Who can outspit me when I'm high off sticky Throwin back Patron shots in some creased up dickies I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube Lynch'd me Snoop stamped me and the good Doc handpicked me You still with me? Me and my mic Can't be seperated like Interscope and - hahaha Ohhh shit This some good ass mother****in weed California sticky green! This is the aftermath for the Aftermath West, coast! The Game |
04.09.08, 06:14 | #36 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Money Over Bitches Money Over Bitches [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 [JT] Yeah, so when Compton niggaz and Fillmoe niggaz get together Shit happens mayne; real talk from ya nigga FigDoin it big and don't wanna split yo' wig I'll give you anything you ask fo' - money over bitches Tell me what'chu blast fo' - **** around with snitches What you had to smash fo' - niggaz tried to play me man (1) Anything you ask fo' - all about this Bay game (2) Anything you ask fo' - representin Bay game [JT] I be the boy with the most cabbage, pluck strings like I'm Lenny Kravitz I'm in the streets where they goin savage One, two, we dance on the rooftop Let the Coupe ghostride then we come to two stops Figga eight'n by the corner stoNiggarali from killer Cali you gotta let 'em know Yeahh, ya hit me on my Sidekick Inventory pilin up, niggaz tryin to buy shit They got me diggin in my files Pro Tools, Adat tapes and big sounds Jumpin on a plane, jumpin out a taxi cab Stackin up this fettucini now these niggaz hella mad "**** that nigga! He got another album on the board?" Damn right, another album on the board **** the bullshit, the Figgarali don't play I represent the whole Bay every mother****in day Count rubber band grands I'm out big on the under, with my fam bam And I, hover the lands To expand, I'm from the gutter grime and the sand No jams the flam's all busted The dames want the bucks when, they see you stuffed in your pockets, 'til they get them some But testin my pocket, only gets you none Cause I, got a pimp mentality The scrubs wanna eat shrimp, and get my salary They ain't knowin I'm tight laced in my shoestrings Hate the way I'm flowin on the mic, cause I do gleam All types of baguettes and bezels We shine like life's {?} rebels 2005, me and my crew just pile the pots Move like the ice loose, pimp these thangs to watch... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:15 | #37 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Neighborhood Supa Starz Neighborhood Supa Starz [The Game] You can catch five, or catch me in the CL-5 Whatever way dog, the Game get live Keepin it gangsta in a P.D. city velour Late night I'm in Dublin's and I got myself a four The hood love me, hoodrats gotta hug me Pop ex, spark the buba, the shit get ugly Rock the mic anywhere, and I ain't talkin 'bout a concert dog Talkin 'bout ten niggaz in Converse dog Get it crackin like we out in the yard, and the warden's watchin Only difference is the whores is watchin Still love to see a nigga, roll up on 20's Hop in that six-four, roll up on Bentley's like I'm a gangsta bay-bee, from the C-P-T Run with the (Pound) like I'm from DPG If it's beef, you C-Murder like it ain't No Limit And I represent the P like Russell Simmons I'm a neighborhood superstar, get it, right Got it? Good, okay It's the Black Sox and Get Low we get dough In the Yay they pimp hoes, in Compton we six-fo [JT the Bigga Figga] I know ya, love to watch me, 'specially when I'm lookin rocky The trey with the broccoli with my handles on the Kawasaki Handle my jewels with the cuff in my shoes AD jacket on my elbow, 50 coast the jewels In my neighborhood I'm Young Bill Gates, never shuffle the cake So cover my face, and run up in the place I'm a superstar, dick and my chain, glass bezel and bang 80 karats on my pinky and rang Crews buzz when you speakin my name, cause I'm deep in the game With top cool thangs and million dollar planes I'm a maniac, young boy gone, like a young Roy Jones You ought of my zone and ain't nobody home In my neighborhood, produce stars, stakes is high Now we soarin through the spacious skies Drop yo' body with them cakes and ride, the handle is up Switchin gears with the pedal and ride [The Game] I'm a shining star And I gotta hit the boulevard in that new Jaguar Why he move through traffic like that, purple haze Ralways, the Ojays, the gangsta lean so Please believe that I keep two G's in my jeans Two gats in my sleeve, two rats in my BeamX-5, mami let's ride Weave in and out of traffic from Compton to Bed-Stuy It's the kid from the far West I, oh, shit He know how to do more than flip pies Get money like them stick up guys Them "Ocean 11" licks got the young kid rich for life And I talkin 'bout a movie or George Clooney I'm talkin 'bout, runnin in your spots with uzis tucked in the Coogi Dude me? Naw truly, might lose your lives They say I've, got 2K2 covered like A.I. [JT] Yeah mayne, I told y'all mayne Fillmoe California nigga where we launch the best nigga JT the Bigga Figga, San Quinn, D-Moe the Yungsta, Seff the Gaffla Introducin the Game Nigga the first nigga I went and got outside of the Fillmoe district Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah mayne And we gon' pass him on off to Aftermath Records mayne So they can take him to the T-O-P Y'knahmtalkinbout Dr. Dre and the whole Aftermath staff, y'knahmtalkinbout? But this album right here, this a Get Low, JT the Bigga Figga production My nigga Charlie-O on the beat, y'knahmtalkinbout? And we keepin it real thuggish mayne, Bay Area style nigga Black Wall Street, now let's get Money! The Game |
04.09.08, 06:16 | #38 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | No More Fun And Games No More Fun And Games 3 Minutes my nigga...Ya'll know what it is..Just Blaze! Gangsta Gangsta that's already evident. Nigga wit a Attitude, check, check my residence. Whether I'm Crip or Blood, Homie, that's irrelivant. I'm with the D-O-C, there's nobody better then the west coast felon when he on that lowrider Bike pedaling, Somebody tell Eazy they still yellin' it. I'm with ya homie Doc Dre on the television while these niggas moving peanuts like a elephant. I'm on cars like spinnin' rims. I'm in a class all by myself like the brown Eminem. Not to down Eminem I **** black bitches, **** white bitches, nigga I like bitches. Them half and half Alicia Keys dyke bitches. If the head right, I might Air Nike bitches. Or put 'em on a track like Just Blaze, I look down on hoes and look up to Dre, cause ain't... No More Fun and Games. [scratches and mix-ins] I'm like Dre, Eazy, Cube, King Tia rolled into One. Used to move birdies 'till I put a hole in one. Nigga they thought I wasn't holdin' a gun, they try to ride up on me like Afeni Shakurs only son. Dre told me he ain't doing Detox, this his only run. Mase coming back and Hovie done. I'm surrounded by legends, sitting at the round table, I am The Game and still niggas tryna play Dude. I'm Ruthless, I ain't talkin' 'bout the label. I hook niggas up and I don't mean free cable. I mean I hook niggas up to the I.V, the same way Dre hooked me up to Ivine. I'm from the gutter, grew up in public housing. On the same block with a shack like Yao Ming. So if a nigga ever try to Jerry Hellin' me, tell Dre put up a mill cause that's what my bail Will be. No More Fun and Games. [scratches and mix-ins] I been rapping for 1 year 1 month, 17 days. 13 hours, 28 minutes, then I met Dre. 30 minutes after I bought the new Em, that was November 18, 3:09 P.M. Around the same time Wanksta got it's first spin, that was 32 weeks before they signed Rakim. 8 Months, 13 Days, before I knew a Mike Lynn. And 3 Years after Mase done turned his mic in? I start writing 22 months and 20 weeks prior to Lebron shaking Adidas for Nikes. I'm right here, 6 years after Randy Moss caught his first touchdown for the Vikings. 1 day, 7 hours, 14 minutes, 21 seconds before Soundscan got printed. 2 Platinum Records for I'm classified with Biggie. And 2 seconds before the song finish, yeah... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:18 | #39 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | Ol' English Ol' English Ol' English la-lala-la-la-la-la Ridin' by gettin' high Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English Rags tied gangs signs Letters on my hat in Ol' English la-lala-la-la-la-la Drive by homicide R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English la-lala-la-la-la-la Once upon a time in the projects yo I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-foI washed it on Monday so he bought me a gold chain Shopped crack and watched "Colors" and I soaked up game Drove the Impala on his lap that was my role model Used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle On the weekend him and my pops flashed the 'Vette Til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death He got murdered by a fiend my pops ain't like that He was from Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac Crazy ass nigga wit' a Black Panther tat Kill a nigga cross him out on his Compton hat Told me when I got older I would understand that It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks 13 that's when I had my first I was the first nigga wit' a Starter jacket on the block Used to build model cars and let the mother****ers hop Moms banged Hoover Crip she was known for sellin' rocks Let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot Bought my first Converse thought I couldn't be stopped When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott Used to think that I was hard so I stole my brother's glock And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot Killed by another crip over his Rolex watch I got high for three years off that Chronic from the Doc I was drinkin' 40-ounces a lot And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped I start bangin' red laces in my Adidas Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by I was a menace to society But I never left fingerprints on my I got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip This is life stop watchin' that "Boyz N The Hood" shit You see this red rag hangin' out of my jeans? I went to twenty funerals by the age of nineteen Then I went to college basketball was my dream Quit the team 'cause I rather shoot rock wit' the fiends Wanted to be Freeway Rick He showed me how to trun a stolen 5.0 into a brick Bought a Cadillac thought I was rich bangin' DJ Quik On Crenshaw got jacked for my shit Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip Hit my first switch same night ****ed my first bitch Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit So I got her name tatted in... The Game |
04.09.08, 06:21 | #40 (permalink) |
Alfa Üye Üyelik tarihi: Apr 2008 Nerden: İstanbul
Mesajlar: 11.417
Konular: 1154 Rep Puanı:5374 Rep Gücü:0 RD: Ettiği Teşekkür: 38 215 Mesajına 402 Kere Teşekkür Edlidi : | One Blood (Remix) One Blood (Remix) Uh huh... Jones, Dipset... Byrdgang, bitch You know what it is When you see me two twelvin you homie You bitch niggaz keep triple ninin, have some integrity, bitch Ballin Peace blood, peace almighty We all thugs and we run the streets nightly And get my lawyer, why? Cause I ain't coppin' out And I **** wit b-boys who bring them choppers out One shot of that will have the boys bring the coppers out And we ballin, for all the toys is what we hoppin out My feary side, where we ride And we all fly high in the Leer G5's So, twist ya fingers up and bang, mu****a bang! Get ya money up, this cane is what we ****in slang! And a 9 trey is what I ****in' claim! It's Dipset Capo the Don of the Byrdgang! [Snoop Dogg] They call the D-O-Dub... wasn't really trippin cause 21, 20 crips and all of us is crippin, cuz We from a different street, all got that different heat But when we move the macs for Game, we on the same beat So if you **** with blood, then you **** wit us And we ain't bustin duds, watch out, cause we bustin slugs We sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up And if you from the West Coast, my nigga... WESTSIDE! [Nas] Game got at me about the remix, its an honor my nigga I made rap, one blood, that say I'm signin wit Jigga I got rappers gettin mad at me I got these new jack rappers tryin to clap at me I got these corny wannabe, diss-song kings on the radio Talkin bout how they gon spray, and take me away But I'm the true living, legend, I'm not to be questioned Have your whole hood holler shit about my progression [T.I.] You knowin my attitude shitty, only a buck fifty So I keep the smitty's wit me, shit, how many wit me? What, you scared? I'm prepared, in the MALL AND ALL! Wit two two's, you can call me QUICK DRAW McGRAW! Bitch, I'ma cut that fool, better CALL THE LAW! I start sprayin, make **** nigga FALL AND CRAWL! I press play like Puff, no PAUSE AT ALL! Choppin holes in ALL THE WALLS, that's ALL THEY SAW! [The Game] Hip-Hop ain't dead, it just took a couple shots I bring it back to life, give it a couple shots The kings comin, no, I'm not Jay-Z Too many niggaz hate me, but they scared to face me This ain't a movie dog, no, not Waist Deep I'm not an actor, but I'll show your bitch Big Meek She givin one blood, one love, on dubs 140 thousand the first week... Uhh! [Fat Joe] All these niggaz wanna front trill with them stiff faces Till them niggaz lyin still up in stiff cases Within styrofome... and embalmin fluid I been gone too long and I'm down to lose it Somebody go and get this nigga a pint box And I ain't just talkin about a measly nine shots Yeah I'm chopper happy and my wrist loose Call me Goldie, I'll smack your bitch too! [Lil' Wayne] 504 gangsta, New Orleans soldier Bangin underwater, **** around and soak ya Louisiana gunner, I'm bout my holster And if you gettin greasy, I'm an ulcer I'm bickin back, bein bool on the Eastside Or New Orleans where the bloods at the bee hive Ain't nothin sweet unless its presidential Cause that is where I sleep, now give me my key! [N.O.R.E.] New York get the blood money, dirty cash - still sweet We will black wall street by the swapmeet with heat Def Jam, they gonna flop him and Reggaeton ain't hot in The building no more... It's Okay! I Get it Poppin! Back to the forest trees for deep, these little me's Who took believers an opportunity to breathe And you ain't gotta go overseas to see our rap shit You can come to left, round Queens and get jacked quick [Jadakiss & Styles P] (One blood) we used to the spillin (Came from the hood) so we used to the killin Used to the black males (makin cracksales in the buildin) (How else you get the benz) with the suede on the ceiling? (Blood in) blood out (me and homie) back to back (Both loaded workin) we about to pitch a (shut out) I'm New York's king, (I'm New York's hardest nigga) Anything in between's a (mother****in' target, nigga) D-B-(L-O-)C-K, (he spray) The hawk'll find a nice home (right where your cheeks stay) We got a mean team, (Hip-Hop dream team) Them boys is only in the projects on (green screen) Yeah, no security, (I'll put you on the respirator) I'm the bomb, (I'm the motha****in detonator) One (dutch), one (bud), one (burner), one (slug) Want a couple casualties, but we'll settle for just (one blood) [Fabolous] What it Look like? All I say at most Shooters waitin on the word... Just say it los! I let these niggaz live, yes, I saw 'em pull the plug Havin goons pullin gloves, leave the room full of slugs Catch me trafficin, on maroon colored dubs Couple Africans, with balloons full of drugs If they like me, tell 'em line up While I sit behind team, point 'em out like a line up [Juelz Santana] Mic check, one two, one two, check I'm strapped, you strapped, let's play two on two Let's go, you're eyein us in the iron bus, BOOM! Leak ya, two liters of red juice, hawaiian punch So what you boys gon do to me? I'm born street Your life's sweet, MTV's Laguna Beach (damn!) Mama told me not to play with fire but She never told me I would grow to be a liar [Rick Ross] One love to the gangs, but I'm in the thangs Save the colors for the cars, see we kill for the fame (Ross) The boss made it, yeah, we floss flagrant Shame how I lost your life savings up in Las Vegas (Ross) I'm a heavy better, I'm a heavy seller Keep white in the office call it Jerry Heller Lettin off a hundred rounds, let the barrel pick And we gon sit here, wait for the derrelics [Twista] Bitch I got lords and gangstas, show me where them niggaz at Chi got two six's and kings, show me where them killas at Chi got them ballas and hustlers, show me where them figures at Game, where them triggers at? Aim at them fitted caps! He got the clips, I got the scope, let's get them choppers, nigga He got the kush, I got the dope, let's get it poppin, nigga Hurt him in that cherry six fo, shit ain't no stoppin, nigga Hit him in the head and the body with a bullet When I put him in the cemetary then I gotta holler out! [Daz] What up cuz! [Kurupt] Yeah rollin with two grips Glock holdin on the hip, rollin wit two clips Got two tiny locos ready to take trips Shake and make trips, high stakes to take grips But they know what's crackin cuz, cause as we huddle They hold cards down, nigga, like spades and pinochle West coast gang bang, riders erasin em Got funny niggaz raisin up and riders replacin em, cuz! [Daz Dillinger] Draped in blue, notorious gangsta crew RIP for niggaz who don't stay true Deep down in the crevices, see the jets veteran Dwellin in the land of the gang bang with fleshin I'm legendary, yes, yes, a westcoaster Throwin up two C's, wit two guns in my holster I'm from Long Beach city, a crip next to Compton Down wit my nigga Game, if you niggaz want problems From the streets to the suites, anywhere we can meet To Compton, Slauson Swap Meet Worldwide, get swept away by the tide By G's, and BG's, O.G's, its time to Ride! [WC] Who the rider, looter through the gutter mayne? Trued up in them Carolina blue Hurricanes! From the westside, strivin to dead em Where them killers throw that third letter up Like Raymond Washington and Tookie Williams Blue jeans, blue strings, blowin blueberry green Cadillac on blue D's and a blue T Money thick as blue cheese, chunkin up the dub What the west be without Snoop and Dub C and one blood? [E-40] The Bay Area, ****ers, we pop em Open you up if you got a problem Up top, born in Cali-forn-ia Clean your clock, open your can of tuna Make a choice to see the hell or it's heaven Get your chest layed out wit the FM 57 This ain't nothin to do with nobody But in the Yay, there ain't nuttin to do but catch bodies [Bun B] I'm comin straight outta PAT, like Compton in all black But when we say what it do, they never say holla back Bun B, the uh, OG like '95 Air Max Neon green outta fight club off a fair facts Ask the hundreds, it's doable, I done done it At the summit of rap and I'm watchin you haters plummit Run to it or run from it, to Bun it don't differ Wipe the streets with ya like you a swiffer as a gifter, one blood! [Chamillionaire] I'm the realest youngster thats breathin, and I don't gotta give a reason Chamillionaire a millionaire, y'all competin to be competin! My purpose is to get the cheese and as a purpose that should defeatin So shut your mouth, have a seat and be quiet till I finish eatin My label tells me I'm greedy, hoggin all the room on your tv Like (Eric) they think its (Eazy), but it isnt easy believe me Need to make a room in B.E. television if you wanna be me Game said he made room for Jeezy, I had to make room for me, G! [Slim Thug] Its one blood if you blood or cuz From that number one thug, its still one love I rep my blue boy team but I do it for green I do it for my folks, vice lords and kings All us trappers, future rappers, standin out on the blocks Tryna get up out the hood mayne, and stack 'em a knot Put ya sets in the air, scream **** the cops! We gon rep for the hood mayne, like it or not! [Young Dro] My feed mashable, murders are catastrophical Cars is improbable, I'm overcomin obstacles Trappin, I made it logical, my topic is impossible I got a partner named Shoe Strang, cause shorty real crossable Shark meat to Papadough's, cars be tropical All guns choppable, all blocks are mobbable I am unstoppable, my calico is toxable Lyrically diabolical, cushion is not ? [The Clipse] Red rum, red rum such power in the tongue Never in the wildest, was he talkin to them Style on niggaz, but feel it to the numb Japanese thread, brought flavor to these bums Consider me the savior, look what the lord gave ya My celebrated presence like the return of Rayful Frolic in the snow, so playful And revivin the track like we flowin through jumper cables What duo you know get XXL kudos while coppin off Coolio Classic shit we mastered this, left for dead I'm back, I'm Lazareth Shit, one trip, one blood, LA, New York The Game, the Rule, one love, guns up Hands down, can't touch, the flow is a bit much The style, wanna keep up? I advise you to speed up With money movin like coke, these days gotta re-up G up, cop some heaters and dare a nigga to act up You see us, in dual seaters and throw it up! Its all hood, niggaz rep your sets if your cuz or blood Niggaz, we all bleed! These niggaz can't breathe Only because the guns are drawn and aimed to part Niggaz that got bullets with names on them! Want em, come get 'em niggaz, y'all know where to get at me Look at me, now pass me, maybe you can be half me You bastards, I'm laughin, bullets stickin in family Who sadly gets torn between one crip and oneblood Y'all niggaz know me, haha... yeah! The Game |
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game, lyrics, sarki, sozleri, the game, the game ( lyrics ), the game lyrics, the game şarkı, the game şarkı sözleri, the game şarkı sözleri ( lyrics ) |
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