The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:00 pm

"Eat Your Beats Alive"
(feat. JT)

[JT]
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?)

[The Game]
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)

[Chorus: JT]
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

[The Game]
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

[Chorus]

[JT]
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

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:01 pm

"Just Beginning (Where I'm From)"

Sometimes I wonder
Man, how long is it gon' be for my people to come out
Man we strugglin, it's hard sometimes, but
Tomorrow's better than yesterday, uhh

[The Game]
I was, born in the slums, struggled from day one
Ray Charles vision, blinded by the light from the sun
No navigation, no sense of direction, darker complexion
made it hard to live; dad, how you fathered your kids?
Stranded on the highway of life, left us out to die, left us out to dry
Shhhh, I'm still here, my mother's cries
Nigga no father figures make harder niggaz
Through the years, went to war with niggaz from what I saw in the picture
Now your son is bigger, 13, but just like you
Moms said I would grow up and be just like you
From what you did to my sister she disliked you
Sixteen, eleventh grade, look at me just like you
Gunnin for riches, runnin hoppin project fences
Street corners to Arizona, how I earn my digits
And I'm far from finished, gamin 'til my coffee diminish
Why pray for the afterlife when mines just beginnin, huh

[The Game]
Only son by our mother, no brothers, only sisters by this one
Every time I kissed one I missed one, let me explain
Eight years before the game, everything came with pain
Watch the fate of my family slain would never see good times a-gayn
Cursed with pain by a nigga with no shame
My father, that have the same name as his father
My grandfather wouldn't believe, he pulled up our family tree
I can see him rollin over in his coffin
I'm left with often, thoughts of how could you molest your daughter
They say that's ten times worse than manslaughter
Man you oughta, be dead in a grave
But it wasn't my call, so instead you sat in a cage
High-powered, two-hundred and fifty pound, six-five coward
Woulda been dead in an hour
Heard you was scared to take a shower, scared of the yard
Your end is near, you shoulda been scared of God, motherfucker

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:02 pm

Born & Raised In Compton (Raised As A G)"

[10 second instrumental to open]

[The Game]
Aight
Now everybody wanna know the truth about a nigga named Game
I come from the hub and every ghetto ain't the same
A lot of people already know exactly where it's at
Cause it's the home of the jackers and the crack [whispered] - Compton
Yeah that's the name of my hometown
I'm goin down, in the town, where my name is all around
And niggaz just be hatin and shit, that's a pity
But I ain't doin nuttin but claimin my city
See my lyrics are double or nothin provin to suckers I can throw 'em
Pass the natural 10 to 4 and six-eight before I go
Not really into freestylin, or tryin to promote violence
But they gotta know about the five-five-fo', so
And that's how I'm livin, I do as I please B
A young gangsta put in work on these Cali streets
And everybody knows that you gotta be stompin
If you're born and raised in Compton

[Chorus]
[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

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:03 pm

"We Are The Hustlaz"

Yeah...
Yeah man we them niggaz everybody talkin 'bout
Hey yo, yo

[Verse One]
Whether it's, chips or whips or bricks of 'caine
I still shine at the end when y'all forced to rain
Changed the game, three shots parade ya Range
Hit the passenger, driver, old man on a cane
I'm a shell in the chamber, waitin to pop
Like Stoudamire on the court I'm used to movin the rock
Cruise in the drop, 740, snub in the box
My attitude shifty, never callin the cops
A Green Bay jersey, out on Bennett puffin hershey
D's on the route tryin to catch a nigga dirty
Respect the flow, better yet respect the dough
He get respect like rich and po'
Fuck a 9 to 5, I'd rather wake up and spit bars
And your wife, known to make my dick hard
Cartier lenses, 22's on my Benz's
When shit break out, y'all hit the fences

[Chorus]
We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin sticks, spliff up
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
Unidentifiable straps makin heat clap sicker
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
We about reliable scratch and gettin this math quicker
We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about

[Verse Two]
Shit I might as well be duels, cause they call me the Flowmaster
I keep ridin tracks like a natural disaster
You know I'm 'bout macra{?} I'll clap ya, a pirate like {?}
Far from a Hollywood actor
A factor, focused on paper and cars
I move like crowds, stay minglin with the stars
I'm in the 6500 Benz truck with some broads
Dimes in every state I strike through be on me so hard
You know them Bentley bound, {?} down, wild Hummer chicks
That wanna take the car, cover up your tight summer shit
The game's heavy, man that's way off the charts
Heavier than killer whales at animal theme parks
You niggaz is SweeTarts, my family is street sharks
We keep the ER busy tryin to revive the treat marks
Shit, we merk niggaz like Eddie, get ready
We got heat that set car alarms off like M-80's

[Chorus]

[The Game]
The Game on some regular rhymin, fuck all this new shit
When they gon' let real niggaz get on that cruise ship
Black Sox and Dallas Squad got, chains and cars
Get, brains from stars after those awards
Miyagi's or doubles, don't think I won't buy out the bar
That's little shit, Mercedes dealership, buy out the cars
Sticker in the window, let 'em know that it's ours
Sittin on shit you ain't never seen like we got it from Mars
Game like Laker Will, snatch a bitch off your arm
She see Game covered in ice like I lived through a snowstorm
Plus I blow digits like my first name was {?}
Pay off security at clubs, get our guns admitted
Outside the club in the parkin lot, four dot six
Not know it's stocked? Nigga it's the one we keep the bricks in
Hard black on black leather's what we keep the chicks in
And bitches stay sniffin like smellin dubs is a sixth sense

V.I.P Numri i postimeve : 234 Registration date : 18/01/2009

"Walk Thru The Sky"

[22 second instrumental to open]

[The Game]
Open your eyes, we in a new era
Less drama more unity, everything's lookin a lil' clearer
Like a face in the mirror karma
It was right before our eyes, facin the future I cried
No more Martin Luther shots, from off the words from Malcolm
Tunes from Jimi, it's sad but you gotta hear me
All praises due to the mighty Allah, God forgive me
I've been through it, but it's not all bad in me
A young kid tryin to change his ways
Every day a lil' closer, show him the light let him pave the way
Gotta see my grave someday, no more cheddar, some pictures
Grandma I'm comin to spend forever wit'cha, I miss ya
No more Sunday dinners, wish you could see your grandson now
Got bigger, all grown now
Got a daughter think she grown now, just started walkin
Just started talkin, she can potty on her own now
Life is good, memories are better
We all gotta go, I know it's cold grab a sweater
We can take that ride together, cry whatever, die whatever
Walk through the sky together, huh

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:04 pm

"Truth Rap"

Yeah, big spit, it's that Bay Area game, Sean T beats
We feedin the underground with this Yay Area tycoon shit
For my nigga JT Fig', y'all know where it come from
Never forget it, that Bay Area shit mayne
Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah!
Game, spit that shit

[The Game]
Hey yo the kid still at it, woke up from that coma
Seen hell came back and here comes my first classic
Still chop it up at the table, still put dope in the bag
and still got dope, under the mattress
It was hustle before rappin, nuttin before that and
12 years old, a lost soul, bumpin "Illmatic"
Gunshots tried and almost took the young kid's live
Can't do it I been through it the young kid survived
Got the ghetto on my shoulder homey, it's gon' be a long ride
Bear with me, I'ma take you there with me
Show you how the sun shine in one rhyme, no more stormy weather
Streets is mine, we gon' live forever
Get it together 'Pac is watchin, Big is listenin
Eazy is talkin to us, Big Pun is witnessin
While they souls still glistenin in ghettos from Compton to Brooklyn
the shells cry, every hood's anthem
Where everybody goes to church and prayers are never answered
And they throwin us curveballs but we Hank Aarons
A picture with no canvas, streets are so skanless
Young'uns jump rope, play ball with fiends and dope handlers
Teenage mothers, deadbeat fathers, no families
Lost and often runaway or live with grandparents
Life stories with no authors, see it through, {?} Robinson's cubicles
When time life is so beautiful
Walk with me we can make it if we try, lost soldiers sometimes
We gotta die but it's okay to cry
Mothers strugglin tryin to survive, reach out grab my hand
I got'cha, won't let you go for nuttin, I promise
Praises due to Elijah Muhammad, peace be unto Farad Muhammad
Words of Minister Farrakhan
Been true, be loyal, know your roots, water your soil
Stop fightin amongst ourself from birth we royal
Who's king we fightin over a crown, while lifeguards
watch the hopes and dreams of kids and young teens drown
More infants bein born with AIDS, more parents mournin graves
The plot thickens, somebody show us the way
Tears crackin the pavement, streets breakin up
The thrill is gone and it's a long walk home
So we might as well start runnin, if it's there gotta take it
'Member Jada said "We Gon' Make It"
And it shouldn't take 9/11 to bring our minds together
Shit rough we'll grind together
Light a candle we can shine forever or I can pass
So I won't miss Aaliyah's concert in heaven
Live life while we listen to my old heads
So I glow like the memory of Lisa 'Left Eye' Lopez
Through a six-seven Brougham, ride with me through the hood mayne
Where street lights flicker and Chuck Taylors hang
And nobody know they neighbor's name 'less they sell weed or cocaine
A lot of black clouds on a block but no rain
And Game got a lot to say, so they wanna take me down
in my own front yard like Marvin Gaye
Can't do it by myself, people need help
Keep on tryin to live healthy 'til the end of my days
And when I die won't lead my daughter astray, lookin from heaven
Watch my people drive my coffin through the Compton parade

[Verse Two]
I'm in the city where it's strange where killers follow direction
And trail witness protection to get a shot at they brain
Where the babies carry semis and swallow pills for power
Count paper for polly'n, penny-pinch for hours
Take sacks from cowards when the streets is watchin
Tuck guns in trunks cause real G's is boxin
Ain't no other options if you stand on your own two
And if you came to battle you can stand in the phone booth
Cause we don't wear capes in this part of the land
Cause every youngster from my block has been a part of the plan
I've been trainin since eighty-seven and famous since eighty-nine
Teaching came from the Nation, my spirit is from divine
When I, pass the word through these raps on beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, when I pass these beats
It's fo'sho' that the Lord gon' make the whole track speak
To the streets, y'knahmtalkinbout people?
Make the track speak, "Truth Rap," get it right
"Truth Rap" mayne, for the people, get it right, "Truth Rap"

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:05 pm

Drop Ya Thangs"
(feat. JT)

[Chorus]
Drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box

[Verse One: JT]
Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes
They all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits
Actin tough in the club ain't gon' get you home
Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon' get you domed
Still steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy
This nigga thank he Lil' Jon and his partner Scrappy
Goin dumb with his bitch so he don't like me
This ain't the South boy, we ain't crunk we go hyphy
You gotta know the rules, player let it go
You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do'
Rollin up this eight-nine gram I'm tryin to make a plan
Tuggin on yo' main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend
This time for escapade only make the tec a-spray
I'm in the parkin lot, standin by the Escalade
You got a problem we ain't fightin like a man
One-on-one with the Fig', get yo' face in the sand, nigga

[Chorus]

[Hook: JT]
Nigga you a bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
Bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Still get found in a ditch wit'cho gun

[Verse Two: JT]
Yo, Fig' never play with them guns, no you hear me
Fig' ain't shot nuttin up but kill spirits
Fig' ain't the one to be, scared of the losses
One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses
Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush
Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bust
I been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny Ken
Used to chuck 'em by the corner sto' whoever win
Them was my O.G.'s, and I was just a B.G.
Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?}
But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommy
But caught without they tommy get rushed like salami
Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.'s
We 'bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streets
Now, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise and
Real niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we do
I wanna bust you but homey let me ask you
Why you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast you
Moms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you
{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga

[Chorus + Hook]

[Verse Three: JT]
Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get cavi
Hell nah, she in the club wit'cho baby daddy
She got the coat on he bought you for yo' birthday (oh no!)
You kickin back, I'm 'bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch)
Team on preem' like he hangin out with 'Pac brother
And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter
And it was cool 'til this chick really got to trippin
Spittin drink in yo' face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?)
Zoked out like, fat boy you can't breathe
Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave
Bring her to the flo', teach her 'bout the Get Low
She gon' really know, mob her on the danceflo'

[Chorus + Hook]

[JT]
Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo' carloads of HP niggaz
that came to Fillmoe for y'all one-on-ones mayne, and y'all got it mayne
Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real big
They get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout nigga
to them three young Sunnydale niggaz
Nigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayne
And all y'all wanted was one-on-ones and y'all got it nigga
Stripes for that!

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:07 pm

"The Game Get Live"
(feat. JT)

[20 seconds of instrumental to open]

[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. fitted 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 converts dog
Get it crackin like we out in the yard, and the warden's watchin
Only difference is the whores is watchin
Still love to see a nigga, roll up on 20's
Hop in that six-four, roll up on Bentley's like
I'm a gangsta bay-bee from the C-P-T
Run with the +Pound+ like I'm from DPG
If it's beef, you C-Murder like it ain't No Limit
And I represent the P like Russell Simmons

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'm a neighborhood superstar, get it, right
Got it? Good, okay
It's the Black Sox and Get Low we get dough
In the Yay they pimp hoes, in Compton we six-fo'

[The Game]
I'm a shining star
And I gotta hit the boulevard in that new Jaguar
Why he move through traffic like that, purple haze
Ralways, the Ojays, the gangsta lean so
Please believe that I keep two G's in my jeans
Two gats in my sleeve, two rats in my Beam'
X-5, mami let's ride
Weave in and out of traffic from Compton to Bed-Stuy
It's the kid from the far West I, oh, shit
He know how to do more than flip pies
Get money like them stick up guys
Them "Ocean 11" licks got the young kid rich for life
And I talkin 'bout a movie or George Clooney
I'm talkin 'bout, runnin in your spots with uzis tucked in the Coogi
Dude me? Naw truly, might lose your lives
They say I've, got 2K2 covered like A.I.

[Chorus]

[JT]
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

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:07 pm

"Lookin' At You"
(feat. Mac Minister)

[Chorus: sung by Tracey Nelson]
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 motherfuckin 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 motherfuckin most hated
Keep rollin like gold Daytons
Niggaz got the game fucked 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

[Mac Minister]
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

[Chorus]

[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 motherfuckin 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 motherfuckin weed
California sticky green!
This is the aftermath for the Aftermath
West, coast!

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:08 pm

"Da Shit"

[Intro:]

Now where's the shit?
The shit?
The shit!
N*gga whatsup man?
Come on kill that noise man, let's just get the shit,
Don't worry, you'll get the shit,
You'll be,
Knee deep in shit!

[Chorus: (The Game)]

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

[Verse 1:]

I let the whole world know that I can't be stopped,
Even without Doc I'm still from the (Streets of Compton),
Yeah ***** I said it, and I'ma stay on top,
Like a hoodrat with bomb ass cock,
Run up in 'em like these rap *****z, I ain't gotta clap *****z,
End your career with one line like that *****z,
Hit the switch front and back, make it bounce,
Let it jump, Killa-for-ni-a is where I'm from,
3 wheelin' with the ass out, smoke chronic 'til I pass out,
All the way to my ***** Daz house,
He always gotta big bad bitch from Long Beach,
She a known freak and she gotta long reach,
She gon' touch it, suck it, fuck it, never back down,
'specially when Al Green in the background,
Now bitch hit the weed and turn that ass round,
It's time to bring back Chronic into Doggystyle,
Westcoast *****z still holdin' shit down,

[Chorus: (The Game)]

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

[Verse 2:]

I'm back on the cover of the Source and the XXL,
Floatin' all through the (Streets of Compton),
I got more bitches, more plaques, more beef, and more straps,
That's what the fuck I call "Gangsta rap",
I was the Aftermath remedy 'til friends turn enemies,
Streets kept me laced like bloods dipped in hennesse,
You *****z act like the Game can't roll 'em out,
One man show still sell a motherfucker out,
We know Dre still sell a motherfucker out,
'cus everybody here from the (Streets of Compton),
We got crip *****z, blood *****z, assays, asians,
Red and blue laces, tattoos on faces,
I kept you *****z waiting had to take you back to the basics,
Switch the Impala from gold to chrome Daitons,
Everytime your bitch hear my voice she masturbating,
I run though hoes like Walter Payton on the daily,
I got your main bitch swallowing my babies,

[Chorus: (The Game)]

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

I'm the Westcoast Rakim, got you *****z blocked in,
Glass house parked sideways on the stock rims,
New school, old school mentality,
Translation - Four pumps and twelve batteries,
Hydraulics make the world go round,
Your girl go down, chronic make your girl slow down,
For she end up like superhead, giving superhead,
Every ***** in the industry now fuck superhead,
And I might just fuck her too,
If I ever catch her sliding or riding through the (Streets of Compton),
Rolling down Green Leaf smoking on that green leaf,
With a Mac 10 like I was born on Queen's Street,
Murder MCs like I was born in Queen's Bridge,
That how I show you palm *****z where the King is,
And you don't wanna play chess on a time clock,
I'm in the Hall Of Fame next to Snoop, behind 'Pac,
I got the whole motherfucking world locked,

[Chorus: (The Game)]

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton

(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

[Outro:]

Everybody wanna know what the fuck is going on,
Am I signed to Aftermath? Interscope? What's up with Geffen?
I'ma just say it like this:
One day I walked in the motherfuckin' house,
And all my shit was gone.

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:09 pm

"It's Ok (One Blood)"

Dre, I see dead people

Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]

Yo, Dre
Thought I was Dead
West coast

One blood [x4]

[Verse 1]
I'm the Doctor's Advocate, nigga dre shot ya
Brought me back from the dead, that's why they call him the doctor
The (after)'math don't drop them
And 50 ain't rockin' with him
No more, IT'S OKAY, I get it poppin'
Whole club rockin'
Like a '64 impala
Drink Cris, throw it up
Call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in the cup
Call the shit hypnotic
I bleed Compton
Spit crack and shit chronic
And you new niggas ain't shit
But new niggas
Bathing Ape shoe niggas
I'm talkin' to you, nigga
Bouncin' in the '64 throwin' up West side, man
Sellin' another 5 million albums, YES I AM
Fresh like damn
This nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck, L.A. above the brim
Inside the lambo (rghini) in the shotgun with Snoop
What would the motherfuckin' West coast be without one crip and (one Blood)

[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]

[Verse 2]
I'm from the West side of the '64 Impala
Where niggas say "Where you from" we'll never say "Holla"
Bandanna on the right side
Gun on the left side
Niggas in New York, know how to throw up the West side
Word to Eazy
I'm so ill, believe me
I made room for Jeezy
But the rest of you niggas better be glad you breathin'
All i need is one reason
I'm the king, and Dre said the West coast need me
I don't know why you niggas keep tryin' me
Everybody knows I'm the heir to the Aftermath dynasty
And I ain't gotta make shit for the club
What DJ gonna turn down the .38 snub?
You 38 and you still rappin' uh
I'm 26 nigga, so is the dubs
On the '07 Hummer
Hop out with no bodyguards
When the chronic smoke clear all you see is (one Blood)

[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]

[Verse 3]
I ain't got beef with 50, no beef with Jay
What's beef when you gettin' head in the 6-tray?
And the double game chain, I keep 'em on display
Black T-shirt, so all you see is the A (aftermath)
Turn on the TV, and all you see is the A (aftermath)
You niggas better make up a dance and try to get radio play
Keep on snappin' your fingers, I ain't going away
I don't regret what I spit, cause I know what I say
And niggas keep talkin' about me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuitton belt buckle, holdin' the glock
No beam, no silencer, I know when to pop
Wait 'til Lil' Jon come on and left off a shot
I have the number 1 billboard spot
Niggas stepped on my fingers, and I climb right back to the top
I'm BIG, I'm Cube, I'm NaS, I'm 'Pac
This ain't shit but a warnin' 'til my album drop

[Chorus]
One blood [x4]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x8]
Blood, Blood, Blood, Blood-Blood-Blood [x3]
One blood [x4]

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:10 pm

Compton"

{"Gangsta boogie, gangsta boogie! Gangsta boogie.."}
Nigga nigga nigga I'm from

[Chorus]
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
Where the cops is crooked, and them bitches is killin
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas, where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"} - nigga nigga nigga I'm from (Compton)

[The Game]
Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires
Hip-Hop on lock like some muh'fuckin pliers
Me and Will.I.Am yeah we take niggaz higher
Niggaz talkin shit get your fuckin mouth wired
Walkin through Compton, Eazy still alive
Raider hat to the back throw your dubs in the sky
My flowetry wicked, sit back while I kick it
And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it
I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick
from a ese, nigga I could write an essay
About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin
In they Che-vys with a bitch ridin shotgun reppin L.A.
Crips, Bloods, homes goin loco
My glock to me, is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo
Sittin in a low-low, on chrome spinners
Nobody drop nuttin this winter, nigga I'm from

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Nigga I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed
since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin, "We All in the Same Gang"
Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gangbang
I do both cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin West coast
Kick the door open, Will let's go
Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best yo
Hard like Timbos, blowin on indo
Niggaz try to play me get stretched out like a limo
I was shoppin crack when Dre was bangin my demo
And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O.
Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk
Can I get a moment of silence Will bang the instrumental
.. I spit for my niggaz in the line-up
that'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up
First album sold 'em out, Impalas rolled 'em out
Cause the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about

[Chorus - 2X]

[The Game]
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas
Fans got us in-the-scope/Interscope, like Jimmy Iovine
Cause we (Ruthless), like Will before the (Black Eyed Peas)
Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see
I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV
Nigga get another job, hip-hop is not hirin
I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin
I just might put out "Detox" myself
Smoke so much, I check in detox myself
One man army, took out Reeboks myself
Fortyfive in my khakis gotta watch my health
I'm so hard nigga, glock 17 quick draw nigga
Like the old me, 17, sippin malt liquor
All black khaki suit, all black Converse
Nigga I'ma keep on stompin comin (Straight Outta)

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:11 pm

Remedy"

[The Game]
As my, Daytons spin, lowrider sittin low
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-fo', Henny in the passenger side
Smokin chronic just (Let Me Ride)
You would do it if my name was Dre, second comin motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of L.A.
I'm known for makin bitches take they clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton, California I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball
Fuck the law!! Feedin my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, black and rich, I'm the (Public Enemy)
Ridin the bass drum, Just Blaze got the (Remedy)

[Chorus]
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
I got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Aftermath got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cell" - Chuck D
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked

[The Game]
I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And starin at that Hollywood sign'll get you straight jacked
(Where you from fool?) Better say you pro-black
Causin walkin in Roscoe's wit'cha chain hangin
is like Giuliani tryin to get rid of the gangbaners
Now that 'Pac passed, tryin to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doin mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped (Cop Killer)
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper wit'cha life in his hand
Even the toughest niggaz run when my gun go... blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now let me see your motherfuckin hands

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on the cherry red six-fo'
Niggaz endin they careers tryin to shut me up
Actin like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast still dippin
Game still Bloodin, and Snoop still Crippin
So what you sayin loc? Red and blue bandana
tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinnin like the hundred spokes
Three wheelin through the neighborhood
System on blast, as the motherfuckin one-time pass
The key to drivebys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfuckin confetti
When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes, (Parental Discretion Iz Advised)

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:11 pm

"Too Much"
(feat. Nate Dogg)

[The Game]
I'm from the old hood, somethin like yo' hood
Where niggaz don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the 80's
So that mean, me Kanyeezy and Jeezy all crack babies
And it's evident my flow is heaven-sent
First LP, on the same shelf as the veterans
Nigga I can't be fucked, like a lesbian
I'm to hip-hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
Nate ridin with me, Snoop ridin with me
All you other niggaz used to be good like Ken Griffey
I'm on fire like the tip of a blunt
On fire like a nigga that let it drip for a month
I'm a Blood, you can Crip if you want, just let it bump
like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One: The Game]
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many bitches in the world not to fuck
Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump

[Chorus Two: Nate Dogg]
You look like you mad as fuck, but who cares?
Grabbin her by the arm, cause she stare
Don't know how much atten-tion you pay
You better be ready to die, in this game

[The Game]
I thought I told y'all
I'm done with the beef clown, my son three now
And I've been watchin Dre so long I'm makin beats now
Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
I mean Chi-Town, fuck it it can go down
Nigga I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo'-pound
Nigga this the wild wild West, call it a showdown
And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
I come back from the dead, tell 'em kill me again
Put my head on the barrel, dare a nigga to shoot me
I'm gangsta, took more shots than Tookie
I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
Roll a California blunt and keep watchin the movie
Inspired by this gangbangin shit since I was two
I brought the West coast back, what the fuck you do?
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One + Chorus Two]

[The Game]
Drive fast, both hands on the dash
Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
Roll the fuckin windows down, let the bass out
Niggaz - drop the top on whatever in
Bitches - let your ponytail blow in the wind
Inhale the chronic, blow out dollar signs
Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome fo'-five under my hood
So if I die, nigga bury me under my hood
Who had the hottest bitch in the game, wearin they chain
Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em "The Documentary" and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
I can not, will not ever be replaced
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One + Chorus Two]

[Nate Dogg]
He wolfin a lot of shit, he look scared
You can't find your girl, she right here
I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
'Sides there's way too many hoes in here

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:12 pm

"Wouldn't Get Far"
(feat. Kanye West)

[Intro: samples from "I'd Find You Anywhere"]
For you baby, I'd find you [4X]
You wouldn't get far

[The Game]
I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that fucked Biggie and 'Pac
Like Vida Guerrera, ass took her to the top
She'll give you some brains you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she'll throw you some cock
Picture that like Meagan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said it's a wrap, she still on the set
Putting oil on her likes like she Gloria Velez
She was (Eye Candy) in the XXL
Hopped off the page and on a skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she {"wouldn't get far"} cause five hundred dollars
can't get you that {"far"} how you get that {"far"}
And all these new video bitches trying to be Melissa Ford
But they don't know Melissa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind closed doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards
Ha ha

[Chorus: The Game]
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, put your hands up ladies
{"You wouldn't get far"} If you kept your legs closed
{"It would be just a waste of time"} But you know
{"You wouldn't get far"} Fucking them rap stars
You know who you are, I wrote this song for you
{"For you baby, I'd find you"} For you
And you, for alla y'all

[Kanye West]
For you... uhh..

Pop quiz, how many topless, black foxes
did I have under my belt, like boxers
Not to brag but, if it add up
One, two, nigga that's mad nuts
Game you mad nuts, how you gon' call out all these
bitches knowing damn well they gon' call me?
The only dream, of that ghetto prom queen
was to make it to the screen, maybe get seen
Maybe get chose by a nigga from my team
Head so good he don't ask for a pre.. nup
Now ask yourself this question, umm
Would you be with Jay-Z if he wasn't C-E-O
Would you be with F-A-B-O if he drove a Neo
Would you ride with Ne-Yo, if he was in a Geo
Well why the hell you think these bitches coming at me fo'?
But since they all fall in my palm, I take a trio
Yo

[Chorus - sub "mouth closed" for "legs closed"]

[The Game]
I done had my share of bitches with long hair
Short doo like Kalissa, Halle in "Boomerang" yeah
I been around the block in the Bentley drop top
In Miami Beach when Lil' Kim was fucking with Scott
I got the scoop on Hoops, whatever the case
She'll let you spray in her face long as she Bathing Apes
And ain't nobody trying to take Beyonce from Jay
But I know a bitch named Superhead he fucked back in the day
The things niggaz do when pussy sitting on they face
Stabbed Un in the stomach
She must have had a pussy like Wonder Woman, on that superhero shit
Fly as Gabrielle Union in the back of my six, fo'
Impala, forget the double D's
I put 'em right in your face like that model bitch Takara
And she ain't win the show but she riding in that Gallardo
That's why I fuck 'em today and forget 'em tomorrow

[Chorus]

[The Game]
God damn! Y'knahmsayin?
I'm sitting back watching Kanye video
And I see the same bitch that was in the homeboy Busta Rhymes video
Then I flip the muh'fuckin channel
Checking out my uncle Snoop Dogg video
And I see the same BITCH, that was in my video! Y'knowhatI'msayin?
And then y'knahmsayin, to make that even mo' fucked up
I'm watching Oprah cover Hurricane Katrina
I see the same bitch on Oprah, floating away on the hood of a Camry
That was in the nigga Lil Weezy video!
I mean DAMN! Everywhere I look
Everywhere I go I see the same hoes
Don't get mad, I'm only being real
Yeah

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:13 pm

"Scream On Em"
(feat. Swizz Beatz)

[Swizz Beatz]
Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)
C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!

[The Game]
Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job
not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil
See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo'
Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe
Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so
I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain
And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz
Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!

[The Game]
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down
Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound
And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks
West coast niggaz is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I body a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz
I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz
Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga
Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga
Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway
(Boyz N The Hood) 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai
Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?

[Chorus]

[The Game]
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer
One man show cause I fucked all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean... mean... rappin machine
Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary
I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin
No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin
Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin
Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin
They should build me an office up under the buildin
My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga

[Chorus]

[Swizz Beatz]
We in the motherfuckin buildin man
You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right?
You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga
It is what the fuck it is man
How y'all wanna cut the cake?
You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga
Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster
Game is in the motherfuckin buildin
We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga
Bitch!

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:14 pm

"One Night"
(feat. Andrea Martin)

[Chorus: Andrea Martin]
I only fuck wit'chu, on two occasions
When I'm drunk, when I'm high
I would be broke, if I would be wit'chu
That is why it's fo' one night

[The Game]
I'm a motherfuckin gangbangin nightmare, wake up motherfuckers
I traded in my white Nike Airs
For a rare pair of Converse, back to the hood
My own niggaz actin like I turned my back on the hood
I used my rap money to put crack in the hood
Even brought the nigga Dr. Dre back to the hood
I showed niggaz the Bentley then let you drive it
Gone for two days and I ain't even check the mileage
When we was fightin with Crips it wasn't about no dollars
It was about sellin dope to put our kids through college
I'm sittin on the block, reminiscin for hours
Wipin my tears cause now half of my niggaz is cowards
And I was still fuckin with niggaz, after I got shot
and didn't get one hospital visit
My homey Snoop told me it'd be days like this
It hurt my heart, to say this shit

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[The Game]
Red bandana in my back pocket, I'm for real
This ain't a pastel color khaki suit, and I ain't Pharrell
I don't front about shit I pull my gun up out shit
And let everything fly to keep my son up outta this
I thought you loved me nigga, talk is cheap
Remember, the bulletholes in my son's car seat
My baby momma found four shells, I ain't get
one keep your head up, all I got was keep it real
Keep it real my niggaz?
Last year alone I spent one point five mill' on my niggaz
After the bullshit, I stayed right there
Took you to award shows, there go J right there
Where? Right there! I had all you niggaz in suits
Cleaner than a pair of fresh Nike Airs
I'm supposed to enjoy this shit but it's quite clear
The last twelve months been a fuckin nightmare

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[The Game]
This shit worse than arguin with my bitch
I done been through mo' ups and downs, than the Impala switch
Get yo' hand out my pocket nigga, go fish
I was born by myself so I don't owe y'all shit
Nigga you tell me, what'chu want me to do
Drop my son off at home and come bang wit'chu?
Oh now it's fuck Game, nah nigga fuck you
I put that on my life, matter fact, that's on Piru
And the reality is, I could die too
And end up in the cemetery, right beside you
We can both ride, angels flyin over my head
Stoned but the devils inside yo' box
You wanted my shine so I gave you ice
Then I gave you a second chance and you played me twice
Couldn't be a real homeboy to save yo' life
I shoulda took Dr. Dre's advice

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[Outro - Andrea Martin]
Black Wall Street fo' life
Only fuck with you on two occasions
When I'm out of my mind, or when I'm high
I only, fuck with you...

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:15 pm

"Doctor's Advocate"
(feat. Busta Rhymes)

[The Game]
Yo Bus, I think I got.... the answer to all my problems...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin' bout, n***a, what's that?
[The Game]
Belevedere... and Banana Snapple [hiccoughs]
[Busta Rhymes]
Look.... get your fuckin' ass up, n***a, you over here trippin' on yourself, n***a, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig!
[The Game]
I'm a man... and most of these n***as, they don't know how to be a man... I got a son...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin about, n***a, come on, n***a, let's take yo' ass to the crib, n***a, you tired, n***a. And put the drink down, n***a! We gotta go, n***a!
[The Game]
One more shot....

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[The Game]
[Verse 1]
Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you,
But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do,
Remember, I'm from Compton too,
I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits,
I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92,
I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you,
I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru,
Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice,
Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop,
Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots,
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you,
I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do.
If every n***a hated him, for that black bitch track,
And n***as stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped,
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[The Game]
[Verse 2]
I never said thank you, and I took it for granted,
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family,
Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes,
I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed,
And even though sometimes I run loose,
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you,
I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef,
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!',
Now it's my turn to carry the torch,
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source,
Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch?
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that!
Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques,
Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?'
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[Busta Rhymes]
[Verse 3]
See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger,
The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the n***a,
Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do,
But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you,
See when I first met my n***a, son was laying in the cut,
Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut,
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut,
I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck,
And as time went on, and he was working with the finest,
I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance,
You gave him something that could make or break a n***a you should face it,
So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it,
With the potential to be a strong n***a with conviction,
The only problem was our little n***a wouln't listen,
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like La, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, La, la, la...

[Busta Rhymes]
Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, n***a!
[The Game]
I'm up man, I'm up...
[Busta Rhymes]
We at your crib, n***a, get the fuck outta the car, n***a, get up, man!
[The Game]
This ain't my house... my house is.... is green!
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talk- look, come on, n***a, let's go man, let me walk you up to the... come on... n***a where the keys at, n***a we need to open your door, n***a!
[The Game]
I got love for you, Bus', you my n***a...
[Busta Rhymes]
Nig get in the fucking bed, n***a, go to sleep, n***a, you tired, n***a. And don't fucking drink like that no more, man, you fucking look like Ned the Wino, you drunk motherfucker...
[The Game]
Just goin to the studio...
[Busta Rhymes]
[Laughing] Go to sleep, n***a...

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:16 pm

"Ol' English"

[Chorus]
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)

[Verse 1]
Once upon a time in the projects yo
I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo'
I 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

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
I was the first nigga wit' a Starter jacket on the block
Used to build model cars and let the motherfuckers 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

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
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 fucked 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

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:17 pm

"Bang"
(feat. Daz, Kurupt)

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[The Game]
Gettin' my bang on, red strings on
Luis Vuitton kicks, Luis Vuitton frames on
Luis Vuitton belt holdin' the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside

[Daz]
This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas we love to sag, we cock it back and blast
Like booyaka-booyaka, we lay the party down
G-G-Game, Dogg Pound

[The Game]
Everybody get down

[Kurupt]
Look nigga... I nurture and breed
I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitches needs
And bitch niggaz try to invade our town
I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out

[The Game]
Say goodbye to the '6-4, hello to the '6-trey
He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face
Up, down - now watch my shit scrape
Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip Walk to get Dre
and Blood Bounce back, heat on the track
Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq
Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back
Like that (like that?) like that

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[Daz]
We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic
When I did it I must admit it, so nigga go and rep it
Lil' homies around her constantly on smash mode
Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole
Bang how we give it, the culture that we live in
Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison
Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree
N.W.A., Dr. D-R-E

[The Game]
We not S-T-A-R's, we don't put stars in our shoes
Bitch we put the whole car on the shoes
You don't wanna see my car on the news
I'll "Set It Off" like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina

[Kurupt]
Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic
Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass
It's hood niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it
Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute
Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at
Two milli macks, semi-automatic situational attack
In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black
Like this and like that
Bang, broken like glass and plastic
Bang out on him with the mask and plastic
We got access to massive plastiques
Purchased last week, D.P.G.C.
Bang

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[The Game (Kurupt)]
Here come them outta town niggaz, what up Blood?
(What up cuz? They don't even know what 2Pac first album was)
Should I tell 'em Blood? (Nah, fuck 'em loc)
Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes
(Dash, brake, bounce and scrape)
Run up on the '6-4, see the AK's
(Bang) like Eazy, (Bang) like Dre
(Bang) like Snoop, (Bang) in L.A.
(Bang) like Crips and Bloods
From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie get stripped in the club
Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club
You like ice creams? Get a banana split in the club
No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club
And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club
So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club
Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs
Remember that

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:18 pm

"Around The World"
(feat. Jamie Foxx)

[Jamie Foxx]
Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah

[Chorus: Jamie Foxx]
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)

[The Game]
She like black Bentley Coupes, black Day-tons
Black interior, black ridin shotgun
Black fo'-five, black Air Ones
Bangin "The Black Album," track #1
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

[Chorus]

[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

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[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

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[Jamie Foxx]
Around the world with me yeah
Around the world with me, ayy
Around the world with me, hey
Mmm, ohh

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:19 pm

"Why You Hate The Game"
(feat. Nas)

[Nas]
Y'all know what it is...
The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it..
Can't hate us....
Fellas...
[Verse 1]
Vice behind me on the intersection,
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection,
Dress superb, admired by conspirers,
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up,
Child of the eighties, y'all n***as is lazy,
Complain about labour pains, n***a show me the baby,
And my n***a Game, light another L, pass the bottle,
Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles,
Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin',
Witnessin' you rockin'(?) with Nas, confirmed my suspicion,
Green fatigues on, My n***as I bleed for 'em,
I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it,
And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich,
And still I don't abort 'em (?) when and if they sink quick,
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge,
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live...
[8 Bars... kind of]
[The Game]
I don't talk about my guns, n***a I just blaze....
[Verse 2]
'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin',
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin',
To every n***a listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening.
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole,
Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble,
15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me 'Rambo',
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle,
I rekindled the flame,
Dre created The Game,
N***a with an attitude from the cloth I came,
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain.
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted,
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it,
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it.
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, N***a
[8 Bars]
[Verse 3]
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me,
How you gon' pass the dutchie (?) to them n***as that don't love me,
I'm talkin' n***as that never wanted to see me on top,
Same n***as that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think not,
I'll fuck you rap n***as like virgins,
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains.
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers,
The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career,
The ending of yours, the endin of his,
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz,
N*gga, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line,
Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines,
And I still think about my n***a from time to time,
Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind,
But I just hold back cuz we ain't beefin like that,
He aint Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin off rap.
One love.
[8 Bars]
I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless.
I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though.

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:19 pm

"I'm Chillin'"

You Got's To Chill

I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]

[The Game:]
Guess who's bizzack No it ain't hypno
L.A. Dodger fitted cap with the brim low
Blowin' on endo Roll down yo window
Matter fact let the top back and watch the wind blow
Black on black lamborghini with the dizzor
Up in the air with the pedal on the flizzor
Bandana tied around the rear view mirror
Red bandana got 'em bangin' new era
Something on my waist niggas can't get near us
Bitches 'round me shakin ass like Shakira
Niggas poppin' Chrystal everytime they hear us
I stay on niggas mind like a new era

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]

[The Game:]
Doing my two step Red strings on my louis
I don't know how to dance so don't step on my louis
Bitches on the dance floor bouncin' like a pornstar
Legs in the air like the doors on a foreign car
Post it up the bar everybody strizzap
Double GAME chains hanging down to my lizzap
Every nigga in my click stay iced out
Reach for a chain,red beam, turn your lights out
Shut the club down, The Game don't stop

In the parking lot, lemon lime patron shots
Looking for Ciara heard about the goodies
Hurricanes in a BlackWallStreet Hoodie

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]

[The Game:]
Everybody know when The Game in the clizzub
20 impalas outside on the dizzubs
Everything chrome from the rims to the strizzads
Panties gettin' wet everytime they see 'em lift ups
So hop in the back seat if you're a freak
Three wheel motion got 'em sliddin' on they seat
8 0 8 drums got 'em griddin' to the beat
Turn high beams on bring the club to the streets
If you jump off niggas know what I'm about
Million dollar man bring the drama to yo house
Hommies outside, Wearing that ass out
I'm gettin' a lap dance, Smoking chronic on your couch

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [8x]

[2x]
I'm chillin' in the house
Rollin' in the car
Coolin' in the tub
Drinkin' at the bar

G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:20 pm

"Intro"
(feat. DMX)

[DMX]
In the name of Jesus, let us pray
Father we thank you for wakin us up this morning
We thank you for surrounding us with your guardian angels as we slept
We thank you for waking our family and friends and loved ones as well
Keeping us safe
We thank you for, waking our enemies this day father
For they are your children as we are
Lord I, Earl Simmons, stand in the gap with Jayceon Terrell Taylor
And pray that, he he's continued, as a child of yours
He's continued in your face, he's continued with the blessings
that you've blessed so many others with
In the name of Jesus
We pray that any obstacle, the devil plans to place in our path
be removed in the name of Jesus father
Every spirit, everything ugly that we come up against
Right now father, every spirit of addiction
Every spirit of ANGER~!
Every spirit of JEALOUSY, every spirit of DECEPTION
Every spirit of GREED! EVERY SPIRIT OF ENVY!
EVERY SPIRIT OF LUST, WE COME AGAINST
RIGHT NOW IN THE NAME OF JESUS FATHER
Let us say, DEVIL, I rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, WE REBUKE YOU, IN THE NAME OF JESUS~!
[thunder rolls and ends]

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:21 pm

"LAX Files"
(feat. Shorty)

[Intro: The Game]
Put your lighters up if you want to
Pull your motherfucking Dodger cap
Over your motherfucking eyes, 'til you can't see shit
I want you to go blind nigga
So you can feel how I felt, when I was in that motherfucking coma

[Chorus: Shorty]
Raised in the City of Angels where it's safe
And danger switch lanes so stranger drive slow (drive slow)
Where bangers and gangstas, fast women'll bank up
Just, part of a face, that we show
We got mountains and ocean, we move in slow motion
Off that sticky you walk up to go
I swear, ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, the one more

[The Game]
Come to my hood hood, look at my block block
That's that project building, yeah that's where I got shot, shot
Cause I was more hood than Suge, had more rocks than Jay
More scars on my face than the original "Scarface," or the homeboy Scarface
Al Pacino couldn't be no gangsta, DeNiro in "Casino" he no gangsta
Wanna be, wanna see, wan' get a shovel
dig Tookie up nigga, cause he know gangstas
Niggas think cause they watched "Menace" a couple times
Seen Cube in "Boyz N the Hood" and pressed rewind
That you could survive when a real Crip
run up on your car and flexed a nine?
You must be out of yo' mind, a real Blood'll put you out of yo' mind
Just stay the fuck up outta my hood
where my niggas take you up outta yo' shine
It ain't a movie dawg, hell yeah this a real fucking Uzi dawg
I'm 'bout to hop inside my Impala, try to keep up, don't lose me y'all

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I know the real O-Dog, and that nigga know the real Game
I call him Lorenz Tate, and he ain't never been in no gang
But he been in my house house, and he sat on my couch couch
While I put one in the air so yeah that nigga know what I'm 'bout, 'bout
I'm 'bout my hood, I'm 'bout my block, I'm 'bout my chips
So if the rap money stop and I punch a clock
catch you slippin at a light {GET OUT YO' SHIT!}
You jack niggas, out-of-towners, and rap niggas
And ball players cause we ball player, we chop it up, with them trap niggas
We (OutKasts), we (Big Boi's), (Ludacris) with them big toys
Where I'm from it's only two things
standing on the corner, me and that liquor store
Look what the Bloods did to Weezy, look what the Crips did to Jeezy
This gangbangin shit ain't nothing to play with
Me and Snoop Dogg just made it look easy

[Chorus]

[Outro: The Game]
Y'all niggas got this L.A. shit real fucked up man
Niggas better start respectin what the fuck we about man
We take niggas the fuck out, this shit ain't no movie dawg
This shit is real - Crips, Bloods, Ese's
We hold shit down, this L.A.
Word to shit on my face, put a motherfucking star behind it
What the fuck I am, Star-face
L.A. Chronicles, L.A.X. Files
Case closed

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:22 pm

"Bulletproof Diaries"
(feat. Raekwon)

[Intro: Raekwon]
Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah
Sit my alligator jacket on the flo'
Let that shit crawl around, whattup Game?
How are you my nigga?
Let's get this money, you heard?

[The Game (Raekwon)]
Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
My killas gorillas, niggaz couldn't see 'em with gazelles
Frontin ass niggaz, go hang with Pharrell
Tryin to be a (Cowboy), you catch bullets like Terrell
Owens, call it T.O., he leakin like a project sink
Busted open like a hot dog link
Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin prison thing
Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
I'm from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got (Killa Bees) (respect)
Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
Got a million dollars say LeBron don't win a ring (word?)
I know Kobe, I be on the floor, "Kobe!"
You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
I got a (Cuban Link) to a fuckin O.G.
And nigga you're too close, what the fuck, tryna blow me? (back up)
This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
(Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin ones)
Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ'
(Big sharks) Me too (swimmin in a pile of ones)

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
In the Bronx

[Raekwon (The Game)]
This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin warm)
(Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
I'ma keep it (Compton) Staten ('til the day is done)

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Geah, frontin on us nigga, it's like
It's like racin a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
You gon' fuck around and get your head burnt

[Raekwon]
I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
Hip-Hop's never dead, the (Cuban) gave 'em heart attacks
Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the V's
Sneeze wrong, course I'm clappin
Keep it movin homeboy, the mac's always actin
Spit in your face, go 'head lil' baby rappers
Can't fuck with us convicts, Stat-land
It's like actions, cliques'll die right with traction
It's Wall Street money and two gunny's
Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
Blow your head off like lunch meat
Chef in the game run the country
Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin
Fuck with they paper their gun squeezin
Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Yo, man yo Game man
Let these niggaz know man f'real man
We official man
They wan' be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?

[The Game (Raekwon)]
(Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
I'd be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
(Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
West coast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
My style's smokin like, after a glock spit
Game get the blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris'
Style like it's New Year's, cause this a new year
Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
The Benjamins won't stop, and neither would a chrome glock
I kill a fire-breathin dragon with a dome shot
Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
We had a meetin before we got here, and shit gon' pop
Heads gon' roll, Patron gon' spill
Fitted caps gettin peeled like the chrome on the wheels
Got a half a mil', sing your wounds won't heal
I declare war, nigga who gon' deal?

[Outro: Raekwon]
Yeah, y'all know what time it is man
"Bulletproof Diary" nigga, for real
Many may read this man
A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
All them real general niggaz man
All them niggaz that's out there man
Don't get no rest or none of that man, for real
The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
Get a lot of bread man, word up, hun'ned my nigga
We take you to Boca Chica or some'n man, knahmsayin?
Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or some'n, y'knahmsayin?
With two foul rings on, y'knahmsayin?
Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
Niggaz ain't seen them colors man [fades out]

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:23 pm

"Money"

[The Game]
Kanye told me that "Jesus Walks" in '04
But I grew up around Impala's and drug lords
Welcome to Los Angeles, palm trees and drug stores
All we know is rocks and presidents like Mount Rushmore
Fuck the police, they hop out and bust doors
I ain't goin' back to jail, nigga that's what I flush for
My money or my glock, who do I trust more?
I don't know, it's probably the one that I touch more
Guess it's the green, 'cause paper motivate niggaz
And my Rolex racist 'cause it hate niggaz
I used to only sell 8's like that Laker nigga
Now I'm movin' 24's like I play at the Staples Center
You might miss The Game so nigga don't blink
My Phantom stand out like Frank Lucas' mink
So go ahead and think, like Frank Lucas think
Somebody'll find your brains on the fuckin' kitchen sink about

[Chorus]
Dead presidents, big paper ("for the money")
Benjamins, skyscrapers, my niggaz get ("money")
My bitches get ("money") like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain ("money")
In California niggaz die ("for the money")
From the South to New York, them bullets fly for the ("money")
Don't stop gettin' ("money") It don't matter where you from
If you hustle motherfucker keep gettin' that ("money")

[The Game]
I get it, that Baby and Slim, Cash Money
All the jewelry on your whole crew, that's my tax money
That Pablo Escobar crack money
That LeBron first Nike contract money
That make it rain, all my niggaz throw a stack money
Stack it to the ceilin' then call it Shaq money
That walk in the club, straight to the back money
Flavor of Love, Deelishis sittin' on my lap money
That rap money, niggaz get clapped money
Air Force One's don't bend when I trap money
Ooooh, I'm Rich like Porter
Havin' Alpo nightmares whippin' that water
Like McDonald's, I was flippin' them orders
In that '02 Porche truck, whizzin' through borders
I was through flippin' quarters when I made my first mill'
I'm about a dollar, 50 Cent ain't real?

[Chorus]
Dead presidents, big paper ("for the money")
Benjamins, skyscrapers, my niggaz get ("money")
My bitches get ("money") like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain ("money")
In California niggaz die ("for the money")
From the South to New York, them bullets fly for the ("money")
Don't stop gettin' ("money") It don't matter where you from
If you hustle motherfucker keep gettin' that ("money")

[The Game]
Somebody tell Snoop to pop open them briefcases
Order that Patron, tell 'em we want three cases
Fuck a black car, you see these green faces?
Look at my chest, now you seen fakers
Treat my money like the Cristal that we wastin'
Cause I'm a money machine, I could re-make it
You a fool thinkin' that Freddy could see Jason
I've been iced out, like who the fuck need Jacob
The doc told me to be patient, but I want
money like Dwight Howard, next time he a free agent
I'm tryin' to make enough money so I could feed Asia
Have Asians in the kitchen cookin' in Louis V. aprons
Word to Martha Stewart, if I could park a Buick
Then I could flip a Brink's truck, I got the heart to do it
Ball like the nigga Tony Parker do it
Speak no engles but dinero I talk it fluent

[Chorus]
Dead presidents, big paper ("for the money")
Benjamins, skyscrapers, my niggaz get ("money")
My bitches get ("money") like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain ("money")
In California niggaz die ("for the money")
From the South to New York, them bullets fly for the ("money")
Don't stop gettin' ("money") It don't matter where you from
If you hustle motherfucker keep gettin' that ("money")

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:24 pm

"Cali Sunshine"

[Chorus]
California sunshine, in the summer time [4x]

Last year, Jazze Phe got stuck up inside the grand lux,
Most recent was 50 in Angola, that’s what’s up,
Any rapper could touched, any bitch could get fucked,
Under the California sun, impalas and big trucks,
They say Suge got knocked out, but don’t play that nigga cheap,
Cuz you’re body might wash up by the courts at Venice Beach,
Ain’t shit sweet but my Swisher, ain’t shit buzzin but my liquor,
Cali chickens got to the 80’s strip and come back a little thicker,
With more ass then Delicious, that’s my Flavor of Love,
We make it rain like Rainman, when he play with the glove,
I’m the king to you pawn niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas,
Playin in green, Paul Pierce to you Lebron niggas,
We them barbeque, front and back lawn niggas,
Summer Jam, throw your ass offstage Akon niggas,
We drink Kool Aid with the ice on your arm nigga,
Take that Champion hoody off in the California sunshine

[Chorus]

I’m in my drop top Phantom, down Wilshire boulevard,
We can’t find Biggies’ killers so we gave Diddy a star,
And I’m by far, Hollywood boulevard,
but I’m from a boulevard that tought ya’ll to shoot out of moving cars,
Remember, New Jersey driver’s like a East Coast menace,
And Belly was like the sequel without O-Dogg in it,
Give me a New York minute,
to show you Cali got more dead bodies then the Yankees got New York pennants,
Cuz we Dodgers and Impalas with the windows tinted,
I duck shots where Venus and Sarena used to play tennis,
And they never came back, like throwin a boomerang flat,
See me, I’m posted like a Cincinatti pitcher in the same hat,
It’s like a scene from a movie, when the screen fade black,
Niggas roll up on you, Now you stuck in that Harold and Cane trap,
If you slippin in Hollywood, and you get your chain snatched,
I know some niggas that know some niggas, Ill get your chain back.

[Chorus]

Niggas already know who had the marijuana first,
We birthed haze and sour diesel, I was there when the water burst,
Hell nah we don’t surf, We half way go to church,
Tell you the truth, shiit, right now I’m in the fuckin hearse,
And it ain’t my night to get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse,
It’ll be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
Where he been, I been there, that Lambo, I’m in there,
Hotter then the beginning of my career with 50, Dre and Em there,
Top off the Murcialago like Victoria’s Secret swim swear,
So listen, I’m so sincere, bout to work out like gym wear,
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat my face with 10 tears,
That’s 10 funerals, 10 caskets,
10 3-piece Ralph Lauren suits, 10 motorbikes stopping traffic,
And 10 reasons why I got California hotter than acid,
Don’t you ever, ever leave me out of the top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Blaow.

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:25 pm

"Ya Heard"
(feat. Ludacris)

[The Game]
You see that cherry red Phantom on them big ass wheels
You see I be playing with them cars, I'm like a big ass kid
Crazy with that cap gun, so if we play cops and robbers
I'll show you how to pop revolvers
Fitted cap too big, so it cover my eyes
That lambo? That ain't shit, just a public disguise
And that top model chick, she for the diamond lane
And I be driving all crazy cuz my diamond chain is (bright)
As them Las Vegas lights
it be the same in California when I'm riding at night
In New York, I be in Midtown, up and down Broadway
Having meetings all day, baby my future is (bright)
As Lebron's, take off on anybody
Tyra Banks on my arm, and we'll crash any party
Yeah, making it rain, ain't got shit on me
The way I ball, the fuckin owner should come sit on me
Yeah, I'm fresh out of jail, you shoulda knew I was back
Turn on the radio it's a rap

[Ludacris]
[Talking]
Just touched down at L.A.X. LUDA!
That's Right! What up Game? Fresh out huh?

Don't you hear it? That nigga named Luda
Slicker than Rick the Ruler, whoop ass like Lex Luger
My money long, your shit is shorter than Oompa Loompas
And I'll superman, yuuuh, that ass like Lex Luther
Shoot you then say me gusta, I'll take you to meet ya maker
My dick's the Staples Center I'll take you to see the Lakers
Swoosh! On that Cali kush, smoking like a muffler
So many red flags I coulda swore I was in Russia
Game! I got the fame and the fortune, Compton is scorchin
Get rid of bullets, my gun keeps havin abortions
I ain't havin it, see em in the dead zone
Fake dope boys is more bass up in my head phones
Adjust your treble, I'm heavier than metal
My verses are hot as shit like I recorded with the Devil
I'm on another level, they stuck on the elevator
And I'm about to blow this bitch, Game press the detonator, like
Fresh out of Georgia, ya heard I was back, turn on the radio, it's a rap

[The Game]
See I'm come from the bottom and they call me The Game
But I'm just happy that Beyonce know my name
I took that Dr Dre money and I bought me chain
Then I bought me a house, then I bought me a Range
Then I bought me some pussy, then I bought me some brains
But I ain't buyin' that the best rappers is Kanye and Wayne
See both of them niggas spit, but yall act like you don't hear me spit
Like sellin' 7 million records ain't the shit
I don't win no Grammies, nigga I'm too gangsta
And poppin Cristal with Irv don't make me a wanksta
See I'm California certified, my niggas make the murder rise
Readin my fan mail in jail, Buck told Curtis bye
So I'mma break it down for them niggas in the South
Slow it down but this Rolls Phatom
grill in my mouth
Throw the Prada slippers on, when I walk in my house
P Diddy and Tommy Lee know what I'm talking about
See, I'm fresh out of jail, you shoulda knew I was back
Turn up the radio it's a rap

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:25 pm

"House Of Pain"
(feat. Traci Nelson)

(Dodge this)

[Verse 1]
Catch me if you can I'm in those old school Barkley's
Back to the fence, puffin on that Bob Marley
Flow like oregano, nigga you already know
My competition's stiffer than Ronald Regan, let it go
Befo' you be a motherfuckin vegetable
You scrap niggas too animated like The Incredibles
Let this beef go around like the 26's
It's young Game of flame, welcome to the House of Pain
Nigga what about The Game?
Keep on playin boy, I'll hop out this fuckin Range
Look I ain't even ask for his fuckin chain
But he took it off like Vanessa-Del-Rio
Now I'm on my way to Rio
After I see my P.O.
She cool, she a Leo
She ain't trippin' off the weed smoke
So I'ma blow it like the Patriots
And throw my dub up, cus Dr. Dre made me rich

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

[Verse 2]
I wrote the block off, I talk that shit
Size 12 Bo Jacksons cause I walk that shit
There on Compton Blvd that's where I walk my pits
Biggie and 2Pac and they bark like this...
As I spark my splif
I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch
We be shootin like free throws, flying them desert Eagles
Sell dope to the Po' while we eat chili Fritos
From a gang banger to a CEO
Everything I do is big like the nigga Ceaser-Leo
Won't stop till I'm dead
Ain't gotta watch for the Feds
They ain't watchin me so here's a dome shot to the head
As I take a Patron shot to the head
And reminise about the shit the D.O.C. said
"Get money, get cars, get mine, get yours,
And keep your head up, like the Lambo doors"

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

[Verse 3]
Guess it's time to break the number 9 Jordan's in
Make a nigga mad when they been trying ta' floor the Benz
I'm doin 160 in the fast lane
Scott Storch in his Bugatti couldn't pass Game
I got it made like my last name
I'm gone just like my Aftermath Chain
Don't make me take you back to '96
Leanin' on that Datsun on the corner eating catfish
The Game, da-da-da Game spit 'dat shit
I'm controversial like the Afro pic with the black fist
Just ask the rapper that had to catch my last diss
I'm reckless and I ain't never crash whips
My pops wasn't around so this bastard
Bleed California from the cradle to the casket
And I won't stop ridin' for my coast
Niggas keep talkin 'bout my bread, we gonna make toast

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:26 pm

"Gentleman's Affair"
(feat. Ne-Yo)

[The Game]
see the bitchez be wantin a thug
and the ladies be wantin a gentleman
if you don't wanna fuck wit a thug
I sugguest you ride wit Ne-Yo

[Chorus: Ne-Yo]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off then please be off

[Verse One: The Game]
fuck this old nigga whistlin fo
outside my door apartment 5B
while I learn to cook my first ounce of raw
use to whistle while I work
she whistle while she twirk
bitch bounce that ass while you roll that blunt it can't hurt
while you wet come out of that skirt
bend over make it squirt
you can be my Superhead maybe we should try that first
let me whistle while you jerk
run my hand up ya shirt
if you wit it say you wit it let me hear my birdies churp (we like it!)

[bitch talkin spanish]

backshots make a bitch go bezerk
the game will make it hurt
T-Pain know ima flirt (and we love it!)
get ya ass up and fuck me then
I know you brought your girls
girl fuck ya friendz
matter of fact I wanna fuck ya friends
nah I aint mean it like dat, shit

[Chorus: Ne-Yo (The Game)]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
(can't be bought)
it's not a skill
(and can't be taught)
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off (go head bitch be off)

[Verse 2: Ne-Yo]
there's the door
swags a standard
no less no more
if u have none
let nezy know
cuz thatz all they checkin fo
flashin paper
player stop it
swag is in you not in ya pocket
try to buy
aint gone fly
cuz she want smooth
gentleman life
she likes the way that everything
I do it so fresh and so clean
my tone is free no need to scream
??

[Chorus: Ne-Yo (The Game)]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
(can't be bought)
it's not a skill
(and can't be taught)
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off (go head bitch be off)

[Verse 3: The Game]
can't be about C-notes
she know my pockets deep enough to see a deepthroat
but she won't see a dividend like 3 times ?
and thatz triple X rated cha know
my bitchez only want the weed some X and some blow
know not ask for the keys or no extra dough
I give em dick no dough
she give me shit she go
all she got waz a baby and a Game logo
that waz then this is now
lift it up break it down
I go in she come out
thatz when the pussy make the sound
it will never be the same
everytime when you fuck wit Game
silk sheets long dick hot tub Lil Wayne
like I aint never ran from no pussy and I damn sure bout to pick a day to start runnin
I said I aint never ran from no pussy and I damn sure bout pick a day to start runnin

[Chorus: Ne-Yo]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off then please be off

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:27 pm

"Let Us Live"
(feat. Chrisette Michele)

Yeah, Scott Storch

[The Game]
Yo I'm hoping out a Phantom with a' iced out medallion
Stallions on both arms, rocks on both charms
My Dominican chick looking like Scarface sister
Red and curly and she wake me up early
Cus hustlers hit the block when police change shifts
New York, California different toilet, same shit
In Brooklyn I rock Timberlands
Still toast cinnamon
Been gangster way before he dropped many men
Liquor in my system, voice raspy who I sound like?
Don't ask me that's my nigga we classy
Him and Montega Jada our style superior to haters
You can catch me in the latest Marvin Gaters
Ralph Lauren suit tape it up fly cause I'm papered up
Why these niggas keep hating on my Phantom
I be out in Atlanta and body tapping I'm probably strapped
Toast it up niggas

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

[The Game]
Now who the fuck want war with the human gun store?
Gangsta rap is where I live just knock on the front door
Niggas stunt more than Jackie Chan
What the fuck them faggots saying?
Nothing when I walk in the club with the gat in hand
Take 'em back to '94 shooing out a Astro van
Banging was the blueprint money was the master plan
Duffel bag full of Grants and Franklins
Rob niggas take they money shoot straight to the bank then
Head to the barbershop to get chopped up
Hearing war stories who dead and who locked up
Who snitching, who pitching and who knocked up
Fuck niggas in Black Wall Street I trust
Black hoodies and black Asics standing on the pavement
Hustlers don't sleep nigga we work the grave shift
Fuck that long money nigga get paid quick
And don't save shit

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

Lord knows that money don't matter
Lord knows that status is badder
Lord knows about the hood I live in
He's taking away but he's giving
Now don't give me these cars
Don't give me these mansions
Don't hate me just let me ride, Lord just give me light

[The Game]
I don't hate Mobb Deep or M.O.P
That was a phase I was caught up in the beef like a rat in a maze
And my legacy will never be that of a hater
Lyrical rhyme slayer wack niggas say your prayers
It's the return of Gandhi
Criminal minded city behind me
Put it on my face to remind me
Of all the shit I been through my physical presence, my pen too nice
My first album sent you life
I should of put down the mic when Rakim left Dre
No cleanup hitter so I was stranded on second base
I had to steal third motherfucker that's my word
There's some Queens niggas try to put me back on the curb
I was ultimate warrior to you bully ass niggas
I will come through the hood with the fully axe niggas
Like Snoop or Suge I'm in the coupe I'm good
Mothafuckas make way

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

[The Game]
Is that Michelle Chrisette
Black Wall, Coollie High, Scott Storch, let's ride
'08 to infinity
California, New York
Scott Storch, Scott Storch...

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:28 pm

"Touchdown"
(feat. Raheem DeVaughn)

[Chorus (Raheem DaVaughn)]
When i touchdown
That California feelings in the atmosphere
You know, You know, You know
When i touchdown
Its wall to wall with sexy ladies up in here
Touchdown

[The Game]
Kick the Roberto Cavall's off and lets talk-sex
Let me whisper in your ear how you like your-sex
Should i unzip your-dress
Step on out girl and tell me whats next
Do you love me-
YES
Do you want me-
YES
Then let me wipe the oil all on your- flesh
Take you out of them Vickys make you forget about your- ex
Let me spray this wipe cream on your- chest
I go downtown
You go downtown- next
Unstrap my bulletproof- vest
Take two steps back and just-flex
And by now you got to be- wet
Like the ocean after the sun- sets
Its over climb up on my- chest
I wore that ass out
Girl just- rest

[Chorus (Raheem DaVaughn)]
When i touchdown
That California feelings in the atmosphere
You know, You know, You know
When i touchdown
Its wall to wall with sexy ladies up in here
Touchdown

[Raheem DaVaughn]
When i step up in the club
You know its going down in here tonight
Put that Belvedere on ice
Let me know how you feel
Girl is it real girl
Just make sure you understand
When i put this in your hand
Its so real
So real
Candy rain drippin down your window
Close the curtains and take off your cloths
I'll make you say 00o0oo o0o0o o0o0o

[Chorus (Raheem DaVaughn)]
When i touchdown
That California feelings in the atmosphere
You know, You know, You know
When i touchdown
Its wall to wall with sexy ladies up in here
Touchdown

[The Game]
There she goes again talking all that- trash
Girl stop playing i tapped that- ass
We can go real slow or do it-fast
Just like i thought you ran out of- gas
And girl you like the new s-class
Everytime i look at you i wanna- smash
Get inside you ??
You drive me crazy girl i can just- crash
Jump in your pool and- splash
Then slow it down like an hour- glass
Turn around girl look at that- ass
Beautiful as an Eli Manning-Pass
Round twolets roll some grass
Get high, think about it then- Laugh
I wanna turn you on
Let me pop your- tags
You so fly i wanna check your- bags

[Chorus (Raheem DaVaughn)]
When i touchdown
That California feelings in the atmosphere
You know, You know, You know
When i touchdown
Its wall to wall with sexy ladies up in here
Touchdown

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:29 pm

"Angel"
(feat. Common)

[Common]
I spent my day so, first I pray yo
Then I lay low, looking for the halo
Or more yayo, my little angel
Reminded me to stay playful
Faithful walks I take in the woods
Thinking whats good, things that I can't change I should
Things I can't, need to be understood
Th-this is the bliss, I used to drift from the hood
For a second at least, I'm resurrecting the peace
Pipes that Indians used to like, we called it Chief, right?
Stepping on the leafs right, to reach heights
Th-th-th-that I never seen, it's so so evergreen
Some use it for medicine, or to write better things
I was in Amsterdam, man, bike pedaling
To the nature spot, to taste the flavors they got
My eyes drop, I like it a lot
Yeah, an angel

[Chorus]
I wanna turn up the sound and spread my wings because I'm riding with my (Angel)
Going through the city of the Chi make me feel like I'm in the city of (Angels)
Oooh I wanna fly, fly away with my (Angel)
She takes me high, she will always be my (Angel)

[The Game]
Th-th-the way that I rhyme, blow nigga's mind
Like the first time you heard Mary J and you were standing in line
To purchase tickets to see her blow like Chicago wind
And I'm ridin with Common looking for Chicago Zen
And like Chicago winds, I was once a Street Disciple
Rockin every Jordan shoe, Nike put out by Michael
That made me feel like I could fly, sometimes I wanted to die
Prolly cause the angel dust was fuckin with my third eye
So I start hip-hop and I understand why Common used to love her
She got me open so I even had to fuck her
But I used the rubber, cause she was married to Rakim
So I bought me a gold chain, pretendin' that I was him
So I can get close to the girl I loved the most
But she left Cali and went on tour with Ne-Yo and Ghost
Big gave her one more chance, and she took Big down
I should've knew it, Shock G and Pac told me "She get around", an angel

[Chorus]
I wanna turn up the sound and spread my wings because I'm riding with my (Angel)
Going through the city of the Chi make me feel like I'm in the city of (Angels)
Oooh I wanna fly, fly away with my (Angel)
She takes me high, she will always be my (Angel)

[The Game]
Fly away, fly away
My love for her is not about jewelry and cars
I love her cause she love me, just for who I are
Who I is, who I am, resembles the rims on the Lam'
I shine like Shyne when Barrington Levy was sayin, "Didilly whoooa!"
I got love for the streets, peace to New York and every hood in the East
Before I was duckin' cops, gunshots, I used to be an L.A. Dodger, now I'm a (Angel)
From the city of lost souls, Impalas and polished gold
Between the car, and the rims, we got a lot of chrome
Your hood not alone, they knockin, we not at home
And when they bust in, we not Caesar, but got it wrong
Cause they try to wire phones, I'm talking Verizon phones
The ones they put wires on, they got us on tap
But I put wires on, my Bentley in fact
I spit it through the wires on a Kanye track

[Chorus]
I wanna turn up the sound and spread my wings because I'm riding with my (Angel)
Going through the city of the Chi make me feel like I'm in the city of (Angels)
Oooh I wanna fly, fly away with my (Angel)
She takes me high, she will always be my (Angel)

[Common]
Yeah, it's The Game and Common
Spread your wings, follow your dreams
Things will be so serene, L.A. and the Chi is a team
Yeah, angel supreme
Yeah, keep on
Yeah, it's for the world boy, we do it forever, yeah

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:30 pm

"Never Can Say Goodbye"
(feat. LaToya Williams)

"93.5 K-DAY, givin you the taste of good life, your girl Yo-Yo.
Should I say is it still all good?
Today at 12:45 outside the Petersen Museum here in Los Angeles,
Notorious B.I.G. was gunned down and pronouced dead at 1:15 this morning.
As a result of the ongoing feud between East and West coast,
the tragic death of Tupac Shakur who was gunned down in Las Vegas
just six months earlier, our prayers go out to the families."

"Westside Radio, Julio G.
A sad day today for the West coast; we lost an icon y'all.
Eric 'Eazy-E' Wright, passed away today at 6:45 PM,
Cedars Sinai Hospital, due to complications from AIDS.
A definite West coast legend, brought you N.W.A.,
brought you Michel'le, brought you D.O.C., and the list goes on.
We definitely gon' miss you Eazy."

[The Game - impersonating 2Pac]
Picture me rollin in that black B-M-dub, headed to the club
Fresh out the Tyson fight, Beamer all rimmed up
Shinin with the big homie, five-car caravan
Ridin shotgun, put that chronic smoke in the air
"Me Against the World" is what I told my foes
So it's me against the world, 'til they poke them hoes
Leanin out the window, flickin ashes off the indo
Throwin up Westside, I see, some of my kinfolk
Pull that blunt closer to my mouth cause only she know
I'm feelin bad about that nigga we stomped out in that casino
But fuck it it's Death Row - the big homie never told me
that my next blow could be my fuckin death blow
Tell Kidada I'm not ready, I ain't even let my momma know
I ain't got no kids, I'm only twenty-fo'
Before I can let the smoke out, niggaz let twenty go
The thirteen that hit the car was through the passenger do'
Now come wit it

[Chorus: Latoya Williams]
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (I will always keep you near)

[The Game - impersonating Notorious B.I.G.]
I love it when they call me Big Popp-a
I only smoke blunts if they roll prop-a
Look I gots ta, catch the first thing smokin in Cali
And hit one of my bitches in the valley
Gotta call my nigga Sean, tell him reserve the don
Tell him to get the chron' and the teflon
I think they trippin off the homie gettin shot
But God bless his soul, Lord know it wasn't Pop
or the M.A.F.I.A., Kim tell Cease get the fuckin truck
We 'bout to hit the Wilshire district, get fucked up
Pop mad bottles son, twist up the Phillies
I'm thinkin 'bout T'yanna, these niggaz is lookin silly
If this was Blook-lyn I would up the 9-milli
But fuck it we to the truck, roll the dutch, we out of Phillies
Hop in the front seat, of that dark green Suburban
Heard another car swervin, gunshots close the curtains; Biggie!

[Chorus]

[The Game - impersonating Eazy-E]
Layin in this hospital bed with bronchitis, I can't talk
Walked myself in and all of a sudden I can't walk
IV's in my arm, my wife Tomica at my legs
(Ruthless), I mean Records, we got married on my deathbed
I could hear Jerry Heller in the hall
But I couldn't hear Cube and Dr. Dre no more at all
Through all the bullshit them niggaz was my dawgs
Niggaz With Attitudes spraypainted on the walls
I'm flatlinin, it's bad timin
(Straight Outta Compton), the king of gangsta rap's dyin
Cause of death, the AIDS virus
Conspiracy, I guess the government just hate violence
They thought my group influenced the L.A. riots
Woulda been here to see my kids grow, if I stayed quiet
Took 12 years for a real nigga to break silence
Eazy I had to let 'em know
You could catch me, cruisin down the street in my six-fo'

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:31 pm

"Never Can Say Goodbye"
(feat. LaToya Williams)

"93.5 K-DAY, givin you the taste of good life, your girl Yo-Yo.
Should I say is it still all good?
Today at 12:45 outside the Petersen Museum here in Los Angeles,
Notorious B.I.G. was gunned down and pronouced dead at 1:15 this morning.
As a result of the ongoing feud between East and West coast,
the tragic death of Tupac Shakur who was gunned down in Las Vegas
just six months earlier, our prayers go out to the families."

"Westside Radio, Julio G.
A sad day today for the West coast; we lost an icon y'all.
Eric 'Eazy-E' Wright, passed away today at 6:45 PM,
Cedars Sinai Hospital, due to complications from AIDS.
A definite West coast legend, brought you N.W.A.,
brought you Michel'le, brought you D.O.C., and the list goes on.
We definitely gon' miss you Eazy."

[The Game - impersonating 2Pac]
Picture me rollin in that black B-M-dub, headed to the club
Fresh out the Tyson fight, Beamer all rimmed up
Shinin with the big homie, five-car caravan
Ridin shotgun, put that chronic smoke in the air
"Me Against the World" is what I told my foes
So it's me against the world, 'til they poke them hoes
Leanin out the window, flickin ashes off the indo
Throwin up Westside, I see, some of my kinfolk
Pull that blunt closer to my mouth cause only she know
I'm feelin bad about that nigga we stomped out in that casino
But fuck it it's Death Row - the big homie never told me
that my next blow could be my fuckin death blow
Tell Kidada I'm not ready, I ain't even let my momma know
I ain't got no kids, I'm only twenty-fo'
Before I can let the smoke out, niggaz let twenty go
The thirteen that hit the car was through the passenger do'
Now come wit it

[Chorus: Latoya Williams]
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (to my friends)
Never can say goodbye, never can say goodbye (I will always keep you near)

[The Game - impersonating Notorious B.I.G.]
I love it when they call me Big Popp-a
I only smoke blunts if they roll prop-a
Look I gots ta, catch the first thing smokin in Cali
And hit one of my bitches in the valley
Gotta call my nigga Sean, tell him reserve the don
Tell him to get the chron' and the teflon
I think they trippin off the homie gettin shot
But God bless his soul, Lord know it wasn't Pop
or the M.A.F.I.A., Kim tell Cease get the fuckin truck
We 'bout to hit the Wilshire district, get fucked up
Pop mad bottles son, twist up the Phillies
I'm thinkin 'bout T'yanna, these niggaz is lookin silly
If this was Blook-lyn I would up the 9-milli
But fuck it we to the truck, roll the dutch, we out of Phillies
Hop in the front seat, of that dark green Suburban
Heard another car swervin, gunshots close the curtains; Biggie!

[Chorus]

[The Game - impersonating Eazy-E]
Layin in this hospital bed with bronchitis, I can't talk
Walked myself in and all of a sudden I can't walk
IV's in my arm, my wife Tomica at my legs
(Ruthless), I mean Records, we got married on my deathbed
I could hear Jerry Heller in the hall
But I couldn't hear Cube and Dr. Dre no more at all
Through all the bullshit them niggaz was my dawgs
Niggaz With Attitudes spraypainted on the walls
I'm flatlinin, it's bad timin
(Straight Outta Compton), the king of gangsta rap's dyin
Cause of death, the AIDS virus
Conspiracy, I guess the government just hate violence
They thought my group influenced the L.A. riots
Woulda been here to see my kids grow, if I stayed quiet
Took 12 years for a real nigga to break silence
Eazy I had to let 'em know
You could catch me, cruisin down the street in my six-fo'

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:32 pm

"Letter To The King"
(feat. Nas)

[The Game]
Second floor of my hotel, I'm rollin' up bout to blaze
And zone out, to this Frankie Beverly and Maze
As I daze about the past, and them days in the past
He set my mom free, so my mom free at last
So much that I don't even drink from a fuckin' glass
I'd rather find the first fountain I can and do it fast
Didn't understand the dream of a King, do the math
Coincidentally on your birthdays I ditched the class
Cause the younger me, dumber me was chasin' the cash
Chasin' the ass, lowlife with his face in the grass
Ridin' home from school, in front of the bus
Not even thinkin' bout how Rosa Parks done it for us
How she stayed behind bars and she done it for us
And she stayed behind bars 'til she won it for us
Sometimes I wanna give up or at least take a break
That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face...
Cause sometimes I wanna give up and at least take a break
That's when I close my eyes and see Coretta Scott's face...

[singing]

[Nas]
Standin' at the pew, panaramic view of the seating and greeting
I've been meanin' to do me some letter reading
to the King, he forever breathin', your message is never leavin'
Some of your homies phonies, I should've said it when I see them
Them sleazy bastards, some greedy pastors, jerks
Should never be aloud at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta
So people be patient, I know this ghetto grammar
But I'm a street dude, normally I just speak rude
Martin Luther, the martyr, the trooper, hate killed him
Nobel Peace Prize winner, they duplicate your feelin'
As a kid I ain't relate really
I would say your dream speech jokingly, 'til your world awoke in me
First I thought you were passive, soft one who ass kissed
I was young but honest, I was feelin' Muhammad
I ain't even know the strength you had to have the march
You was more than just talk, you the first real Braveheart, we miss you...
Feel like King be in me sometimes

[singing]

[The Game]
The word nigger, is nothin' like nigga
Don't sound shit alike - like Game, like Jigga
One came before the other, like aim and pull the trigga
One is slang for my brother, one is hang and take a picture
The rope ain't tight enough, he still alive, go fix it
Pour some gasoline on him, call his daughters black bitches
Make 'em pick cotton, while they mama cleanin' up the kitchen
Same cotton in white T's, that's the cotton they was pickin'
If Dr. King marched today would Bill Gates march?
I know Obama would but would Hilary take part?
Great minds think great thoughts
The pictures I paint, make the Mona Lisa look like fake art
I feel the pain of Nelson Mandela
Cause when it rains it pours, I need Rihanna's "Umbrella"
for Coretta Scott's tear drops, when she got the phone call
that the future just took a fuckin' head shot...
I wonder why Jesse Jackson ain't catch him before his body dropped
Would he give me the answer? Probably not...

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:33 pm

"Ain't Fuckin With You"

[Intro]
That T.M. shit, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!

[Chorus: unknown singer (The Game)]
I don't care that you lookin like Beyonce on her best day
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your high heels on and your body feel warm but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your hair did right and your panties too tight but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
Could be another night, girl, but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)

[The Game]
I'm tired of playin your games, you pissin me off
I'm watchin LeBron so holla when this shit go off
You say I be trippin but really it's you that be gone
Always bringin up Tanisha be givin me dome
I ain't tryin to hear that, I'm just tryin to chill
So chill, like Chamillionaire or Mike Jones grill
All in front of my flat screen, True Religion black jeans
Dancin like Ciara, I ain't Bow Wow or 50
Tryin to get me but I back out, I could blow your back out
Lay you down, put it in the hole, like Stackhouse
We used to hit midtown, throwin all them stacks out
Run through the Louis Vuitton store and clean the racks out
Used to feel good, when I watch your Porsche back out
You bought Keyshia Cole album, now you tryin to act out
Flippin like a Sidekick, tell me what is that 'bout?
You can't take the heat, get the fuck up out of Shaq house
Black out

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Bitch, I'm rollin 21's and over
Not the club, the dubs on that platinum Range Rover
My neck's so iced out, my wrists so shined up
I make hoes line up, see a pole climb up
Brown sugar or light skin, black or white skin
If she could drop it low then she could be my night friend
Or my one night stand, if she got a nice tan
Before I leave I cut the light off of your nightstand
Back to the house, my girl wanna have real sex
Nah, I keep my kids like Britney Spears' ex
Take her back to the future, I ain't even here yet
And that line was fly, bitch I'm a Leer jet

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Stop playin girl, stop playin
Stop playin girl, stop playin!
Stop playin girl, stop playin
I said stop playin, you better stop playin
'Fore I break you off like a Kit Kat, you know I wanna hit that
Banana split that, but a real nigga had to sit back
Cause that's what we do, when girls be with the chit-chat
Every mornin on "The View", them girls be with the chit-chat
Enough with all the riff-raff, let me see your cat walk
I'm old school, Garfield, I can make your cat talk
But I'm a gangsta, so I'ma back off
Keyshia and DMX, I'll leave yo' ass with that thought
For real

[Chorus]

[Outro]
That T.M. shit, uh-huh, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:34 pm

"Nice"
(feat. Newz)

Ayo, Irv, 'the fuck is wrong with these niggas, man?
Talking 'bout I aint no fuckin MC
I been at this shit for 7 years, nigga
8 times platinum, nigga
2 Bentleys, 1 Lambo and 3 houses later
Muthafucka, what's up?

[Verse 1]
Naw, this aint no fucking Dre beat, I got this from Irv Gotti
Game back on the shit I'm enemies with e'rybody
Game cook crack, transform to yeyo
The new Suge Knight, nigga, minus the K.O.
I keep it candy like Mariah, I'm so fire
When step it in the club, "Get Low" like Flo Rida
Cus I'm a pimp, you can tell by the limp
When I st-st-st-step aside the 26 inch
You see my rims? They bigger than Bow Wow
Get money, fuck bitches, that's what I'm about now
The Phantom, ugly, the Bentley, retarded
The kicks still Chuck Taylors, the jacket is a Starter
I beg your pardon, nigga, we can get started
If you aint Nas or that nigga on third Carter
My happy face is Kenneth Supreme mug shot
When it go down, who goin' stop the blood clot?

[Chorus: Newz (The Game)]
Throw yo hands up it's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit
Go ahead and hate on my click
Got a couple words for you nigga, suck my dick
You strapped? (That's right)
Gang bangin? (for life)
A little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (Nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit

[Verse 2]
Nigga I'm a throw back, you already know that
Got swag and I'm street, picture the nigga Hov' strapped
And it's the rock right in my fuckin sock
Die for my chain, why?
So I can go fuck with Pac
Before I go, I shoot it out with the cops
Hit one for Sean Bell then bleed on the block, yeah
Like Big did, I play with toys like a big kid
Got a snub nose, call it Big Tig
You art not fuck with Game, he crazy
And the bars comin' straight outta Compton, baby
My 16's mean, you know what I mean
Headed to the airport, my flow flying in from Queens
Accompanied by my bitch, flying in with them things
My shorty is a 10, that's that singing nigga, Dream
The life of gangsta in Cali, is to short
So I might as well find me a borrow in New York

[Chorus: Newz (The Game)]
Throw yo hands up it's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit
Go ahead and hate on my click
Got a couple words for you nigga, suck my dick
You strapped? (That's right)
Gang bangin? (for life)
A little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (Nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit

[Verse 3]
Man you know, I don't give a fuck and I don't give a shit
Any drama, I'm locked on like a red-nose pit
Keep shooting them cap guns with the red nose tips
Have some Cali niggas come out and dead those strips
Give a fuck if you tuff nigga, or you buff nigga
My 4-5 weigh 3 pounds and it'll snuff niggas
Hop out the truck with the gun so long
Let the bullets jump out and ask, "What's going on?"
What the fuck can I say? I grew up a bastard
Got sick in the Impala so I threw up a Aston
I pop big shit, and I keep my wrist slit
My entourage shine like the Diamond District
I got a Rolex, a real big Rolex
With so many rock, the Africans is trying to protest
Bully of the block, why? Cus they got me top 5
There's four niggas better than me? Nigga, stop lyin!

[Chorus: Newz (The Game)]
Throw yo hands up it's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit
Go ahead and hate on my click
Got a couple words for you nigga, suck my dick
You strapped? (That's right)
Gang bangin? (for life)
A little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (Nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies go crazy when they bump my shit

Newz!
Niggas better know what the fuck they dealin with
When they dealing with the fuck they dealin with
You dealin with a fuckin animal, man
Gotti will tell you, nigga, both the Gottis, nigga
You can bring John Gotti back too, nigga
He'll tell you, man
I'm gangsta, nigga
I was Murda Inc. before anything, man
Black Wall Street, Murda Inc., man
Before there was a Dr. Dre there was a Irv Gotti, nigga
When I was running around with P. Diddy in Atlanta, nigga
Slapping asses, nigga
Mario ?? know what it is, nigga
Mix bitches all up in the height on Peach St., nigga
Been getting money, nigga
7 years strong, nigga
2 platinum albums, nigga
'Bout to be three
Ay, nigga that's muthafuckin hip hop menage a trios
BITCH!

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:35 pm

"Spanglish"

[Intro]
[Hynas laughing]

[The Game]
Buenos dias maricones
Vamonos!

[The Game]
Picture me stuck inside this mind of a loco matador
Bout' to comit suicide behind that project door.
La vida loca, mi familia, esta coca
dony fuck around with no snitchmayates,
I got they bitch ass in check the Cuete en tu cabeza
A spanish made better come and clean
the fuckin' mess up
Gangsta, it ain't about where you from its where you wear your gun
(Ay Vienen Dispara)
Let'em come
See i never told Dre I was disconnected
(Viva Mexico)
And get your ribs dissected
Es muy pandillero en mi blanco camaro
Feel these buck shots to your souls with these sparose
The devil con permizo diablo
You saw the Lamborghini up, escapo, Pablo
Get them from Durango send them to Chicago
The ese's dont fuck with niggas see i know

[Chorus x2]
Voy a vivir Aqui
Voy a nacer Aqui
Hasta la muerte
Hasta la muerte

Mi amor

[The Game]
Ven aqui mami, pass a nigga a Corona
Yo soy El Rey de fuckin' California
(Eres Juego)
Tu eres muy bonita, te extrano my Senorita
Me is the negro Vicente Fernandez
Mi Cuarenta Y Cinco, I need you to understand this
California aint' no coutry for old men
Muy grande, sangre, ridin' on chrome rims
Translation the sound of Deuce Deuce's
Mirando en la esquina, St Luces
Im bout' to lose it holmes, Espera
Escribo Los Angeles en mi cara
Time to bring back my old Impala
Keep the 40 in the dash for them Eric Estrada's
Tu got pajaros then holla'
Cause we pitch white balls like...

[Chorus x2]
Voy a vivir Aqui
Voy a nacer Aqui
Hasta la muerte
Hasta la muerte

Mi amor

[Hyna]
Estupido, pendejo
Idiota, te odio
Porque no me quisistes?

[The Game]
You know I Love you
I aint' goin know where

[Hyna]
Pendejo, estupido olvidate de mi
Porque no me quisistes?

[The Game]
Thats not what i said

[Hyna]
Te odio
Pendejo, estupido

[The Game]
Te extrano

[Hyna]
Perro, inbecil

[The Game]
This is my city, I'm the California what New York is to Diddy and Compton is mi casa
Adios mijos, mi pecho frio
Drug deala fo life, take me to da kilos
Muy mota mixed with the coca
Spanish stand in ridin' shotgun, she loca
(Callate la boca)
She's my "El Pollo Loca"
And the day I die she kno to bury me en roja

[Chorus x2]
Voy a vivir Aqui
Voy A nacer Aqui
Hasta la muerte
Hasta la muerte

Mi amor

Titulli: The Game Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah Thu Jan 22, 2009 2:36 pm

"Southside"
(feat. Lil Scrappy)

Yall dont want it with the southside
(ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Yall dont want it with the southside
(Aint nothin, aint nothin, aint nothin, aint nothin, ayy)
Yall dont want it with the southside
(ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, crank it)
Yall dont want it with the southside
(ayy, ayy, aint nothin, aint nothin, ayy)

[Verse 1 - Lil Scrappy]

Ill leave your ass cripled
Like some frosted flakes
What you call it sneakin up
Tha man Jake the snake
Every nigga on the street
Got something to say
Until they get sprayed in the face
With a gay like mase
I dont hate the fagget
Lets get dashed and crunk
I was lifted by a precher
So my mom pushed weight
Now I hooked up wit game
Real nigga with flame
He show me cali love
And I aint in no gang
Every nigga that role wit me
Betta keep it G'd
Ill put the verdebrate
Push a DDT
Lets get the sippi
Yall niggas aint even gifted
Bust a shot at your chin
Your top getting lifted
G's up get your G's up
Scrappy with your weed up
I fuck with g-unit
So yall sake get they ass lumped
Your homeboy really going
Through something
I cant change
I fuck hoes that would make
Mya look lame

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 - Game]

The reallest of niggas
I role wit them killas (yeah)
The world gotta feel us
My clique is gorilla
You niggas in trouble
Im in the track with B-M-E cliqueing
You aint gotta know
Im sigend to Dre to know that he sick
P-89 thats what I handle my beef with
Put them hollow tips under your arms
Like speedstick
Ride through your hood
In a blue impala
Like we crips
Roll down the tints, G-Unit
Im a head busta, lil scrappy
When the lead touch ya
And they aint no comming back when you dead fucker
Sleep in your earn
And get eaten by worms
Trying to fight a fire with
Bottled water heat and get burned
They tampered my phones
Like D-R-E and the firm
Cuz im buzzing like WuTang
And it aint even my turn
So who it may concern
Youll get your whole mouth wide
Fuckin with them gang bangers
In the SOUTHSIDE

[Chorus]

[Outro - Lil Scrappy (Game)]

Hey hold the muthafucker up mi nigga
(hold up)
This your boy little scrappy shorty
(BME) A-town (A-town)
Mi nigga game (Comptown)
You know, its westside (G-G-G-G) in this bitch
They want (G-G-G-G-G-G Unit) to get that ass hit
They wanna get that ass hit
Ayy, ayy, ayy, (G-G-G-G)

Who you lookin at?
Nah not me nigga
Who you lookin at?
Nah not me nigga
Who you lookin at?
Nah not me nigga
Im for real
Nah not me nigga

» The Game Ft 50 Cent