THE GAME feat. Nipsey Hussle – Judas’ Closet

[Hook:]

[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours, Nip
[Nipsey]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours
[The Game]
Cedar
[Nipsey]
6 0
[The Game]
Wife beater
[Nipsey]
Wrist froze, platinum jesus piece
[The Game]
Nigga, mine all gold
[Nipsey]
Chuck
[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil for these palm trees and six fours

[Verse 1: Nipsey]
When you come from depression, to the lust for possessions
Gotta make an impression, but you can’t wait for your blessing
Model bitches stip naked, while I sip on this Texas
I’m pushing this German, jesus piece on my neclace

These niggas gon’ test ya, and these bitches is reckless
And that money go fast, I hope you paying yo’ taxes
All the questions they askin’, all the cameras that’s flashin’
All the stress that come with it, it’s like you hustling backwards

If you ain’t breaking the bank, so we go hard everyday
And the sacrificial lamb is just the part that you play
When you the first one in yo’ fam to have the heart to get paid
Had the smarts to switch lanes, had the guts to be brave

Now, and now you a star on the stage
And once they cut on them lights, no turning ‘em off, that’s part if the game
Wow, people caught up in your fame
And never will it be the same, this shit is expensive, the price that we pay, that’s why I..

[Hook:]

[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours, Nip
[Nipsey]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours
[The Game]
Cedar
[Nipsey]
6 0
[The Game]
Wife beater
[Nipsey]
Wrist froze, platinum jesus piece
[The Game]
Nigga, mine all gold
[Nipsey]
Chuck
[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil for these palm trees and six fours

[Verse 2: The Game]
Clip tossin’, since niggas is brick flossin’
Now the bloods wit’ Slauson so niggas go get coffins
Comptons like NFL, niggas get hit often
Heavy but I green, make niggas forget Boston
Red bone bitch, she high on blue dolphins
Head game sick, she bi and switch often
It’s kush, bitch quit coughin’, my six got streets talkin’
Timbo, this shit scorchin’, got Bloods and Crips walkin’

It’s Nip, so get up off him, we like Biggie and Jigga mayne
And Nickerson’s Marcy, Bed-Stuy is Slauson
My flow somethin’ like Nassir, I should put a pause here
…Run and tell them niggas the God’s here

This California kush got me in God’s ear
We got them Ace of Spades, but ain’t no cards here
Just a Crip, a Blood, a couple exotic cars here
And these extra long clips like Lamars here, Nip

[Hook:]

[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours, Nip
[Nipsey]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil
for these palm trees and these six fours
[The Game]
Cedar
[Nipsey]
6 0
[The Game]
Wife beater
[Nipsey]
Wrist froze, platinum jesus piece
[The Game]
Nigga, mine all gold
[Nipsey]
Chuck
[The Game]
Feel like I sold my fucking soul to the devil for these palm trees and six fours

[Repeat Hook:]

THE GAME feat. Kanye West & Common – Jesus Piece

[Verse 1: Game]
Tell ‘em pray for me
It was God that brought Dre to me
Even brought the nigga Kanye for me
Bless – but them niggas shot Big
Made a nigga feel ashamed of the the city where he live
Make a nigga hate the logo on the Dodger cap
Thinking back to that beamer, wish my nigga Pac was strapped
But I’m dreaming Las Vegas Boulevard, Afeni’s son’s bullet scars
Everybody king of Diamonds until the feds pull they cards
Not the deck though
Hip Hop was better off when it was just Dre, Scarface, and Esco
Memoirs of the gold chain
It’s a cold game nigga, Johnny Coltrane
Black Versaces with the gold frame
Nigga said he sold ‘caine that’s a bold claim
14 had a brain that could throw flames
So strange, have to blow they mind, Cobain

[Hook: Game & Kanye West]
Mama forgive me cause I’m tryna make a living, hah
Them niggas hatin’ cause that Royce Phantom killing, hah
Niggas shining like they hanging from the ceiling, hah
Me and ‘Ye killing (Something like my Jesus piece, hah)
Lord willin’, I see a billion
‘Til then, I let my nuts hang (Something like my Jesus piece)
Throw them suicide doors up
And let that Holy Ghost swang (Something like my Jesus piece)

[Verse 2: Game]
That’s the crack music, nigga
Never spit a verse cause I was making trap music, nigga
I’m not an army, I’m a movement
The flow is water, Andre tried to Ice Cube him
Ice Cubin’, roof translucent
Chick on my side tryna get my Trues loose
When I’m talkin’ ’bout God, she ‘posed to bow her head
Now she all on the blog, steady postin’ ’bout her head
Got me thinking like a father, is the world safe?
Got me clinging to my daughter like shark fins in water
Rocks in my ears something Titanic
This is my life and it’s exactly how I planned it, damn it
God says everything happens for a reason
I seen four seasons at The Four Seasons
Take that chinchilla off, poor kids is freezing
Cookin’ up in the same pot they ain’t got to pee in

[Hook: Game & Kanye West]

[Verse 3: Common]
Pieces on gold leashes
Cruisers, around greases make them cohesive
I’m the sun shining with God features
Draw closer to a true blood bleeder, soul of a southern preacher
Went from dinner with bottom feeders to world leaders
We throw the peace up, knowing the world need us
Eagerness to live life and see the bright lights
To sacrifices we made it’s sorta Christ-like
At the after party thinking what the afterlife’s like
He paid for my sins, is it really priced right?
Fuck it, I see the light, raw Stacy delight
Can’t deny my Jesus piece that’s so Peter-like
Chicks crow for dough, get low for mo’
A combo she end up at the condo
Another Jane Doe or a golden angel
Pendant on an angle, watch the chain glow

[Hook: Game & Kanye West]

THE GAME feat. Pharrell – It Must Be Tough

DJ Ski! The Game
California Republic mixtape
Long await, droppin Thursday, bitch!
{DJ Ski…}

[Chorus: Pharrell]
It must be tough
Seein yo’ boy doin the same shit
Ridin around in things you can’t get
With the window down, puffin like it ain’t shit…
It must be tough; it must be tough…
Seein the glare from my chain and wrist
Me and 20 goons lookin dangerous
E’rybody paid, all doin the same shit…
Countin money nigga
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds [3X]
Thousands, thousands (it must be tough)

[The Game]
It must be tough watchin a nigga ball like Carmelo
My cars is all yellow, my broads is all yellow
What’s wrong with y’all fellas? You fuckin up my energy
Used to be my ace, now you wastin my Hennessy
The remedy for haters is crap tables in Vegas
That crack ain’t gettin it lately, I’m stackin that paper, baby
Maybe I should get a maybe, or maybe I should call (Baby)
My (Cash Money) is crazy, I crashed up my Mercedes
and bought me a Ferrari, the license plates say SORRY
The insides safari, the paint job Amari
And when the sun hit that bitch, man
Bounce off them 24′s and land on my wristband
You better keep your arm on yo’ bitch, man
Or you gon be Jamal Crawford – sixth man comin off that bench man
And it’s a shame man, yo’ bitch gon make it rain a bender
(Ay, ay, ay)

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I brush them haters off, like fuck outta here!
Open up my garage, pull that Porsche truck outta there
Like fuck outta here, I’m up outta here
I jump on my hog, throw on that Rough Ryder gear
I’m a rider yeah, I’m a roller bitch
I might be through with Benzes like here, hold this 6
I get money with the players they duckin and dodgin Feds
For my bread, bring the lead, cause I’m sittin on the edge
Actin like I don’t get it, actin like I don’t hustle
Actin like I don’t Diddy, actin like I don’t Russell
Then you wonder why I be, actin like I don’t trust you
If you ain’t with me then fuck you, next time I see you I cut you
How mad was you? Cause last time I hugged you
I felt the negative energy nigga I could have snuffed you
Bye hater, cause I’m feelin like (Jada) nigga “We Gon’ Make It”

[repeat 2X]
Tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds [3X]
Thousands, thousands (it must be tough)

[Interlude]
How many cars we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
How many cribs we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
How many hoes we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
How many times we told y’all? (Thousands, thousands)
How many goons we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
How many guns we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
How many haters we got nigga? (Thousands, thousands)
Damn… it must be tough

[Chorus]

THE GAME feat. Young Jeezy & Future – I Remember

[Hook: Game (Future)]
It’s been a long damn time since a nigga sold dope
But if you put a brick right in front of me, I remember
Makin’ sure they in the triple beam, I remember
Blow the fully auto magazine, I remember
(I done fucked so many bitches that I can’t remember names
But if you put that pussy right up in my face, I remember
Drop that pussy down on the floor, I remember
The way she coppin’ down on the floor, I remember)

[Verse 1: Game]
Pop the pussy, don’t play with it
I don’t care if Kanye hit it, I don’t care if Jay hit it
I’m a eat it up and I’m a lay with it
We shot a chopper at the gun range
Got stupid cars, got dumb change
Red bottoms, let the tongue hang
Got an off-white Porsche, cum stain
I’m whippin’ work (I remember)
Roll up that purp (I remember)
Pour up that syrup (I don’t remember)
(How Tunechi had that purple Slushy comin’ out that blender)
Got a Keisha, got a Rhonda
Got a Nisha, got a Tanya
Met a Tishaun, met a Honda
And I eat her anaconda
Got condoms in that condo
Got kush breeded in Rondo
Still hit me up for that blow
You already know

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Young Jeezy]
Drop top ‘Rari shit, I drove it like I stole it
The Lambo in the shop, told my bitch to Range Rove
Microwave broke, so a nigga had to stole’d it
Dropped it off to my Auntie, told her hold it
I’m posted right now, posted in this Gucci link
7 dead, 30 mill, wonder what Kool G think
Quotes not hassles (I remember)
Now it’s the middle of June, and it’s snowing like December
If it get into the ‘sacs in your hood, I could mend ya’
Ya’ nigga talkin’ reckless on your song, I’ll revenge ya’
Pull up to the club in a Phantom, I had a vision
Break ‘em all down on my [?], end of vision

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Future]
Pop that pussy up in that hydraulics (what’s that)
6 4, throw that brick inside a pot and cook it, whip it good though
Baking soda inside of her bowl, hey yo, watch me blow
Promethazine mixed with a Sprite, poor it foo’
Been sippin’ syrup all night, and I get higher than a plane
Yeah I remember your pussy girl, but I don’t know your name
I got diamonds hanging off, they can talk of the insane
Ever since I gave her that molly, man that girl ain’t been the same
Better pop pussy for a real nigga
That’s on the way, I’m a deal with ya
I’m a real boss, that real sauce
Don’t try me bitch, I will floss
That’s real talk, my top off, I’m throw it off
Homo that green [?] plate go (chronic)
I hustle take no days off
(FUTURE)

[Hook]

THE GAME – I’m On

[Chorus - Mars:]
From the east to the west coast
You show me love wherever I go
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on
Got them hoes coming let’s go
Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on

[Verse 1 - Game:]
You niggas know who I is, what kind of car I drive
Kill a California, the door’s commiting suicide
Bitches ain’t fucking with you unless you in the newest ride
You know me, 5 star nigga do or die
I’m from the home of the [?]
East west north south, niggas getting lost in Los Angeles
We got the baddest bitches on the north campus
Nigga hopping off the Transit, straight off inside a Phantom
Stop at the liquor store, get a swisher hit the dough
Then hit the hood, ay blood what they hitting for
Whole hood tatted up, bandana white side jeans coming out
Busters leave when it’s nighttime
15s in the trunk hit me ‘fore they see me come
Wear 24s no need to ask where I’m from
Westside home of the perk even 12 year olds put in work
West coast got ‘em bang

[Chorus:]
From the east to the west coast
You show me love wherever I go
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on
Got them hoes coming let’s go
Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on

[Verse 2 - Game:]
31 still banged out shots let ‘em rank out
Walk through any crip or blood hood with his chain out
Grandmomma stay on the shore in the same house
Be on the porch Dre beats on with my thang out
That ain’t a threat but little do you forget
I was 20 years old rolling up on nigga’s sets
Coming straight up out the Jets, Impala sitting wet
Try me in ‘em high lows coming up out the Tech
Now I’m getting money big Snoop on the techs
Andre Young on the bottom of my chest
Fresh from the fade to the bottom of my cheques
Matter of fact [?] Cadillac trucks
[?] peanut butter guts [?]
Shit hit the block and post up
Then gather the crew hit childs to toast up
Hoes breaking their neck tryna see me close up

[Chorus:]
From the east to the west coast
You show me love wherever I go
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on
Got them hoes coming let’s go
Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on

[Verse 3 - Game:]
10 million albums sold I ain’t gotta brag
Disrespect my girl or my kids and get a bodybag
AK47 with the sawdy rag, niggas better duck cause it ain’t a paparazzi flash

2011 Game banging, y’all copycats
How you throwing a stocking cap and they ain’t never cocked it back
Nigga copy that, capiche nigga
Extended clip got 1 bullet for each nigga
Ask nice and I might let you eat nigga
Let you smoke, I keep Kush in the swisher
Keep the blunts rolled up, Phantom 24′ed up
Hop out knockout hoe chest froze up
I be in the back of the club looking like so what
20 bottles 40 grand pro’ly why chose up
Now she in the [?] with her nose up
Pockets 1 0 0 0 0 hold up

[Chorus:]
From the east to the west coast
You show me love wherever I go
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on
Got them hoes coming let’s go
Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on

THE GAME – Holy Water

[Hook]
My Phantom so mean like I washed that motherfucker every Sunday in holy water
My Jesus piece clean, even my shoes are Christians, I’m walking on holy water
She came out them True Religion jeans and fell straight to her knees like she was dipped in holy water
Holy water, holy water

[Verse 1]
Back when Michael Jordan was raw
’92 was the year my city was city of God
Coke on the boulevard, crack fiends skiing the slaloms
Is exactly how drug lords found their way from the bottom
Them Yeezy’s drop got ‘em, couldn’t afford ‘em you shot ‘em
Cause they the same price as fucking red bottoms
We don’t pop tags, leave that motherfucker on it
Return it back to the store when you no longer want it
Sleep outside for days for a pair of J’s
The you sleep outside forever cause you got sprayed
If you gon’ die for em, they better be some number 4′s
Or some shit made in Japan you can never find in the stores
Rolex watches, Gucci belts, and Louis luggage
Definitely set us apart from niggas when we in public
Jeffery Campbell and Michael Kors got you looking rugged
Gave her a Louis bag, now she love me
Take a look at her posin’ on my car cause

[Hook]
My Phantom so mean like I washed that motherfucker every Sunday in holy water
My Jesus piece clean, even my shoes are Christians, I’m walking on holy water
She came out them True Religion jeans and fell straight to her knees like she was dipped in holy water
Holy water, holy water

[Verse 2]
Met a girl named Christian in some Christian, she a Christian
Suck a dick like sucking dick is her life’s mission
Trynna’ save her ass like trynna’ save a stripper
She fine as fuck, you trynna’ fuck, that’s the reason you tip her
And all I’m sayin’ is a watch and a gold chain
Can’t make Bobby Valentino, Johnny Coltrane
And she knows this, that’s why her mouth wide
Openin’ up her legs straight up like they suicide
I cross my heart and hope to die
If something happens to my voice and can no longer provide
Should I run and hide? No. hustle and survive
Workin’ 9 to 5 until sweat drips into my eyes
And if it burns like the kush, then I go back to sellin’ pies
Switchin’ lanes in that Cutlass, rubbin’ her thighs while I drive
Reminiscin’ on the days I was rollin’ broke
Jesus piece on the rearview, holy ghost
Amen!

[Hook]
My Phantom so mean like I washed that motherfucker every Sunday in holy water
My Jesus piece clean, even my shoes are Christians, I’m walking on holy water
She came out them True Religion jeans and fell straight to her knees like she was dipped in holy water
Holy water, holy water

THE GAME feat. Lifestyle – Hit The J

That Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J

Don’t want an undefeated title, don’t want my chain
Don’t want that new kid red, bitch, is money gain
See that red Maserati, niggas know it’s game
Drive that bitch down road screens and blow the brains
Got that Rolly on my wrist, man that hoe insane
Remind me of my chick Regatta, she always pay.
Got a squad full chicks, they ain’t dropping names
They all call like the get up play for Notre Dame
What’s the next? Gotta dig ins, yea, that’s right, that’s right
You know I’ll be digging, I’ll be eating on the kitten, I’ll be picking out
Never take her out to crustaceans and the in and out
Just like that Charlie Shay, nigga goin’ in ‘er mouth
She do everything ‘xcept smoke that mean let a nigga poke
That mean she be off the coke like players centerfolds
Swear to God she a potent man
But she like Lindsay Lohan, except she be running from that dope man

That Harry Potter, that Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
Cause she don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit it)
Now she don’t wanna hit the J (woh oh woh oh)

Hit these bitches in my face, I’m blowing up
And when I’m stepping in the place, we’ll be calling up
Fourteen bottles of Ace, models showing up
I tell ‘er, homie break that down, and we gon roll it up
It’s Friday and she ain’t got shit to do
And we ain’t got shit to do
So umm, what’s good with you?
Smoke a little, talk a little, roll that up
Girl twist that J, remind me of my nigga Rondo
I know she ain’t trying to hit that J
Different chains, different lokes
Different days, different strokes.
I smoke that shit that made Arnold and Willis broke
You know my lifestyle, squeeshes in them life styles
Bitches in the white house, red Camarro piped out.
I’ll be iced out, my blunts be packed in
I’ll smoke them till it’s no more, I’m like the pack ten
I’m ’bout to pack ten bitches with them accents
Man we ’bout to pack twelve swishers in that black hen

That Harry Potter, that Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
Cause she don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit it)
Now she don’t wanna hit the J (woh oh woh oh)

THE GAME – Heaven’s Arms

[Hook: Game]
Part the Red Sea in red Louboutins, who the don?
Walk inside the club with all his Gucci on, you’ve been warned
Packing heat like two LeBrons
And my crew is strong as Cali kush
It keep you (higher than heaven’s arms)

[Verse 1: Game]
Gucci in my closet, pardon my head
Pardon my French, but I’m on my Nas shit, off with your head
Off with your bitch, she offered me head, I offered her dick
Slid my black card at the reception, now we off in the Ritz
I’m rolling this kush, she coughing and shit
Freak bitch named Jada love the LOX, I got her talkin’ to Kiss
Got my hands behind my head, now she all in the splits
Dick must be good ’cause now she in Boston with bricks
Got a text on my iPhone, she caught with my shit
Off with a ten, she took it ’cause she’s far from a snitch
Hold her mama and her daddy down, got a sister at Georgetown
Paying her tuition so she ain’t gotta be strippin’
It’s money so I ain’t trippin’, this bullshit get printed
Them banks get scoped out, black cars get rented
My Gucci suit tailored, my fade get tapered
You get sent to your maker, fuckin’ around with my paper

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Game]
Hard bottom Ferragamos, IQ too much for mediocre convo
I know a Farrakhan though, three-story condo
IPod shuffling between Common, Jay Electronica and Bono
Armado, the last words of Paul Castellano
Nothin’ but endless paper and bitches for niggas I know
Smokin’ Cheeba, feeding divas McDonald’s
All the way in Milano, ashin’ out Cohibas
Fuckin’ in that blue Aventador, the nose like Gonzo
Let a bitch get a breather, then she back hittin’ high notes
Throwin’ Louis luggage at dealerships, fuck a car note
15′s in everything, beating like Harpo
Rolling purple like Harpo, bitches by the car load
They wana see Prince, I’m pulling strings like Carlos
Santana, now we in Magic, Atlanta
Wipin’ Ciroc off my Loubi’s with my Gucci bandana

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Game]
Kanye with Kim now, I’m happy for that nigga
Disrespect him or his wifey, I’ll slap you for that nigga
Grew up listenin’ to Pac, now I’m rappin’ for that nigga
My brother been dead 20 years, I’m trappin’ for that nigga
God Flow like Pusha n’em, rose Phantom pushin’ ‘em
Splittin’ Louisville Sluggers open, puttin’ kush in ‘em
Ain’t forgot about the Twin Towers, I blame Bush for them
Obama can’t speak on it ’cause the government’s shushin’ him
But that’s my nigga though, still stackin’ figures
So one day I’m top 5 and I can politic with Jigga though
I was just trying to Blueprint myself behind Jigga, though
And all them old disses, yo, bullshit, Thibodeau
He be where the Summer be, I be where the Winter go
Tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole
I’m out here tryna win a penant though
Never thought I’d be legendary, but fuck it I’m in it so

[Hook]

THE GAME – Real Niggas Stand Up

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Y’all niggas see me when I’m come through and ain’t no denyin’
That them big motherfuckers is twenty five
Swayin’ in and out of white line, six double 0
Deuce zeroes, I’m feelin’ like the streets is mine

Mines hustle, mucho dinero, heat’s confined
See more fall guys than Foreman-Ali combined
Any beef, I’m releasin’ mine
And I won’t stop bustin’ ’til them Escalade seats recline

The kid roll with a greasy nine, come through and blast
I return shots like Arthur Ashe
You do the math, ten shots, ten dead bodies
Fuck bein’ sorry, it ain’t nuttin’ but a gangsta party

And I’ll make sure ain’t a nigga survivin’
Shoot up the ambulance, make sure it ain’t a nigga there to revive him
And the Game ain’t tryin’ to win, fuck the awards
So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong, nigga

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Trust me, dog, ain’t shit you can put in your rap
That’ll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that’s that
Niggaz thinkin’ I retired my Chucks, put the gun back in the holsters
‘Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster

But that don’t stop the heater from bangin’ or me comin’ through
Droppin’ all y’all niggas with three in the chamber
Keep two mac-10′s when I’m rollin’, one in the changer
One when I push the button’s right next to the cupholder

Dog, we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game
Let’s say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain
Ain’t gotta look over my shoulder, I’m good with the aim
Good with the handle and the bullet’s good with the bloodstains

And the coroner’s real good with the pickup
A1 good with the carpet cleanin’, they can get the rest of that shit up
‘Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time
Put you niggas next to each other how I do ‘em in line

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home
If beef cook, then I’m bringin’ the chrome
If I die, then I’m leavin’ a clone, but if I live
Through the drama one mo’ time then them boys gotta dig

When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big
When I’m rhymin’ on the road, I listen to Jig
Bump Nas off that purple, sittin’ on the block
And when I’m loadin’ up them clips, I listen to ‘Pac

A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo’ guns
Than F A B O L O U S got jerseys
And you might get ‘em all in the face when shit get thick
Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey

And ain’t nuttin’ to do a drive-by in the hood
We ain’t even got survival, but I’ma still take that ride
Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it
Think this shit a joke? Bet the S-5 pink on it

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

Real niggas stand up, hold they dick
Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you?
I’m the type to pack a gat or few
Pull out and pop, simply ’cause I’m mad at you

THE GAME feat. Fat Joe, Sam Hook & Young Chris – Greystone

[Verse 1: The Game]
Wake up in the morning feeling like a G
Got them number fours on my feet
And the Lakers just beat the Heat
Clippers beat the Knicks, think it’s about to be a good week
Yeah I’m rich forever, you know I got them good seats
Now let’s hit up Greystone, get our fuckin’ Ace one
Know I’m in the VIP, throwin’ back straight ‘tron
Goons with me ‘case we gotta get our fuckin’ ape on
Nigga playin’ Superman, better have that cape on
My niggas pop up outta nowhere, State Farm
But I’m cool in [?], play them Drake songs
And bring it back to the west side, play them “A” songs
Cause little mama know, we’re only in here for one night…
A week though, and watch out for them wolves
Dressed up in them sheep clothes
And she don’t really club, but I bet that ass a freak though

[Hook: Sam Hook (The Game)]
We’re only in here for one night (a week though)
We’re only in here for one night (I said a week though)
One shot of Goose, one shot of ‘tron
One shot of Goose, one shot of ‘tron

[Verse 2: Fat Joe]
Round of applause, baby make that ass clap
You know your man he a fraud, I gotta have that
She want a bodyguard, I’ll be her New Edition
She pray for Louboutins, must be her True Religion
Now I’m lookin’ for Taraji and somebody with a body like China
China? The one from King of Diamonds who designed her
I call her Barbie, pink Ferraris on her birthday
And I’m a make sure every day is like the first day
She want another round, fuck her to another round
I don’t just beat the pussy, I runs it to the ground
Every day another girl and another town
I don’t just beat the pussy, I runs it to the ground

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Young Chris]
Sunday night, Grey Stone, neck full of gray stones
Staring at the crowd, trying to see who I’m a take home
Game said “straight ‘tron, ” I be on that champagne
Bitches all around us, trying to watch us do the damn thang
Shouts out to Joey Crack, chicks like, “oh he back”
Welcome to my house party, OG, roll it back
Blow it if he showin’ that, keep a few loaded gats
Bitch niggas showin’ out, real niggas notice that
California lifestyle, fuckin’ with my nigga Chuck
[?], Young Chris, nigga what, all we know is get to it
Stack high live it up, fuckin’ with that Grey Stone
Everybody get ‘em up, yeah

[Hook]

THE GAME feat. Sam Hook – Gone Ahead

She say she got it man but I ain’t gonna try to hit that though
I’m just tryna get you naked and it’ll only take a second
But she ain’t tryna hit that though
She with her girlfriends and she like me so we textin’
Her ass as big as Texas so behind her back we sexin’
And I swear this girl impressin’ cause I just got rid of my X and
Had to find me a different direction
I should state it all in my section
Last week kept a nigga off stressin’
But now the man moves to the next chick
And I’m spendin’ this money on alcohol and I feel it’s a good investment
Cause I got you and your girlfriends over that stinger
Reminiscin’ ’bout the good times, they dreamin’
You gon need just some good wine, fallin’ tears
Talkin’ ’bout who’s really down, girl, standup comedian
Now he hand her next nigga her iPhone
But ain’t really takin’ that personal
You got bottle scum and you’re the first to know
You’re the first queen that the world know

Let it back girls, let it back girls
Them Loubrutton, Louis, Gucci, break it down girls
Let it back girls, let it back girls
Don’t be stuck on hit, pop the cap girl
(It can’t hurt) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(I wanna see you sweat) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl

She from Indiana but she don’t like them Pacers
She moved out here for a model scene
So I got ‘er chearin’ for them Lakers
She a bad girl, you know how I like ‘em bad girls
Tryna get the keys to the Porsche truck
But you know I don’t like them fast girls
(Yo) Slow down for me
Throw it to the front then bring it back to me
Hit her girlfriends while I watch how she do me
Make ‘er wanna get another magnum out of that Louis
If she don’t get I’m a hit it all night
Smack it on the left then slide on the right
Think it to myself this pussy tight
She wanna go again, she just my type
She sexy and I like her
The red bottom, I spiked ‘er
Keep pullin’ these all-nighters
And I might just go ahead and wife ‘er
We shot been, a rodeo
I love this girl, I swear lord
Can’t wait to get ‘er back to the hotel room
cause you know we gon get up that head porch
She turn it, let it back girls

Let it back girls, let it back girls
Them Loubrutton, Louis, Gucci, break it down girls
Let it back girls, let it back girls
Don’t be stuck on hit, pop the cap girl
(It can’t hurt) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(I wanna see you sweat) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl

I see a girl with the coach bag
She makes you foul
Need a referee in her cause she’d know she’d foul
And I know that gotta be the same girl
And I can’t get domino plane girl
All the bad bitches up in her
Feel bad for you if you came with your man, girl
And I ain’t tryna know your name girl
If you can’t fuck with it, that ass got a leak
And I don’t know who you came with
Cause you’re not gettin’ in here with all that weed
You know good and well who I’m talkin’ too
No fake shit and I mean that
And your ass been over there hatin’ all night
You know damn well I’ve seen that so

Let it back girls, let it back girls
Them Loubrutton, Louis, Gucci, break it down girls
Let it back girls, let it back girls
Don’t be stuck on hit, pop the cap girl
(It can’t hurt) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(I wanna see you sweat) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl
(Pop it, pop it) Gone ahead, pop the cap girl

THE GAME feat. Mele – God Speed God Speed

Need y’all to understand what I’m ’bout to do
Keep it gangsta in this Lou Vuitton designer shoes
Front of club, live stuntin’ in that Masi coup
Then we gonna check China, see what king of diamonds do
Pass the kush that a y’all when I will climb the roof
That nigga get down for me like I bought to shoot
Tell him it’s money thing, my nigga signed a grill
The kid rabbis, running trains like a monorail
Introduce you to my team, niggas you need to know
We pop the spades, the bottle look like C3PO
Blowing that last security, telling us to keep it low
But when you pay me for a walkthrough this is what you need to know
We’re smoking all night, kid got a handle for me
to tell the owner that twelve bottles is mandatory
And we gon need a few Ciroc and them gooses too
Shane go for green house and dream down to Houston too
Watch Himalaya eating shrimps while I throw these ones
Jas drunk as fuck cause every time I look he show his gun
Every time we in the strip club he got the coldest one
Surrounded by killaz cause jade prince know his son
And I’m all ‘ight with that cause rap a lot my fam
And every time he asks me can I dot dot? Yea, I can
Cause he been looking out for me before the trade co sign
And I was there with him and 2 when they heard that Drake’s gon sign
But look at Drake now. Every time I need some he’d do it and say
Game hawl if you need some
And that’s loyalty in the industry that’s full of snakes
When niggas send a bottle to your table just to show their face
And bitches stand there looking pretty just to get a glass of ace
Most of these hoes dumb and they nothing but a ass and face
But if you are the one that’s lucky enough to stand up on this couch
Make sure soon as we hop in that Phantom you got them titties out
I hate you fake hoes, I swear I hate you fake hoes
Your fake ass, your fake nose, you’re never gon be J Lo
Nicki put you on that mike, Carl’s got you thinking that you on the right
Cause the fuck that nigga in that white Porsche
But I got news for ya: got a wifey and three kids at home
And I can’t even start to count how many times we’ve been to Rome
My oldest get his tennis on, my youngest got his tennis on
And you ain’t never seen a four year old swaging in his farms
Now they wanna be him cause he rocking coliseums
Used to rock it for the fiends, now he rock with Europeans
All out and doubling with them green bottles bubbling
Twins I call double men calling me by my government
I swear to God that I’m loving it, I’m on the beach with Miss Dominican Republic
Even she’s surprised that she’s sucking it
But don’t be surprised that I’m fucking
Never cuff and always puffing, these bitches know who they fucking with
I’m the fucking shit, handsome ass nigga
Fuck with me, I fuck with her
You don’t need ransom cash nigga
Now cancel that nigga like my Blackberry service
Don’t believe none of you niggas till the plaque start surfacin’
Niggas get nervous when we hop at them suburbans
Get the time wearin’ rags around our heads like they’re turbans
Half them niggas murking, I’m behind them Phantom curtains
Heading to grace though, my alibi is this Persian
Her alibi is this Asian, I call that a persuasion
From Hollywood lock-up to yelling out Brenda Spencer
Dumb bitch right here wanna know why the bottle green
I’m something like them golf niggas, I have seen a lot of green
Six hundred forty mill, about to play the lottery
A rich can’t play twice, don’t lie to me
Cause a donut trunking fish like they eye to me
Ain’t no lemon spending this money, I’m bout it bought it B
I’m hoodie’s new rapper’s try to be
Every new nigga that say fire becomes a prodigy
And you should honor me, and my jersey up short
We got a situation, nigga Jordan’s
You don’t know about my occupation nor about fucking these hoes
Nor I rock these Loubrettons and smoke till it’s stuck in my toes
And I got your girl in the comfortable clothes
I’m ’bout to take her lower what’s right a point than my nose
It’s money gang bitch, now watch my company blow
And go from a hot logo to something you know
I’m in that Maseratti, Jordan’s punching the floor
And you can act like you don’t nigga, but…

Even I’m going too fast, I’m doing too much
Shine it down all the time when I’m in the club

Yea, I’m always in the zone
Chilling with a bad bitch and she got nothing on
Yea I’m on the due to shut it down
Yea, I’m going too fast, so fast

Going so fast, see, going so fast
Going too fast, so fast
Going too fast
God speed, it’s like going too fast
So fast

Yea, I’m always in the zone
Chilling with a bad bitch and she got nothing on
Yea I’m on the due to shut it down
Yea, I’m going too fast, so fast

God speed
Going too fast
God speed, God speed
Said I’m going too fast, so fast

THE GAME feat. Elijah Blake – Freedom

[Verse 1: Game]
Holdin’ my daughter in the booth
Her momma out there somewhere in that Bentley tryin’ to find a roof
Poof, I wave my wand and here comes Kendrick
Niggas say the west ain’t winnin’, I’m just tryin’ to find the proof
Speakin’ of Proof, I’m ’bout to roll one with Snoop
Blow the smoke out to your memory and toast to Eminem
Cause he, gave me the shit that I needed on Documentary
Keep it real with myself, I got murdered like John Kennedy
But that was cool cause I was just there for the energy
Watchin’ Bizarre pop pills while 2Pac in my hennessy
First time in Detroit, had to rock the Grant Hills
Cause I threw up my dukes when California was at a stand still
But hope ain’t lost cause Dr. Dre the man still
Had faith in me, knew I had heat like an anvil
Ran through entire crews, put their remains in a landfill
And I ain’t lost the hunger, I’m eatin’ out the can still

Yeah, wherever Hov and Nas at in the world right now
I know they listenin’ like
This young nigga be killin’ this shit
Hip-hop is life’s ciroc I’m ’bout to drop a pill in this shit
Let’s go, esco bars nigga, like Nas nigga
The flow is Rakim with the Birdman cars nigga
Hold on I gotta take Birdman’s call nigga

[Break]
Stunna, whattup blood?
“Whattup blood? What’s poppin’ my nigga?
Look, I know this the last one after this it’s straight Cash Money, my nigga
So, it’s YMCMB, wild life my nigga, let’s get it poppin’”
Rich game
[?] one hunnid
Suwoo

[Verse 2:]
New coupe, remove roof
I’m from where niggas’ll do your bitch and bitch niggas’ll do you
Inevitably we take celebrity bitches and run a chu-chu
We puttin’ on magnums, taggin’ that wagon, some of these birds kookoo
And murder is what I do to
These Just Blazes, Kanyes, shit on Swizz, I handle my biz
The whole world know what I do to Dre’s shit
Niggas know I’m classic, I ain’t even gotta say shit
Frank Ocean more of a man than you niggas, get up off that gay shit
Fuck copyin’ styles, niggas be tracin’
Whether it’s me, the movie, or Jadakiss, niggas just can’t fuck with Jayceon
So let’s go

[Hook: Elijah Blake]
Laa, da da da dup da ah
Thought you love me before
I’m glad [?]
Every hood needs an anthem
Laa, da da da dup da ah
Winning comes with a price
No matter how hard you try
Can’t buy freedom
We’re far from being free
Yea we’re far from being free
We’re far from free

[Verse 3: Game]
Wanna welcome everybody to Jesus Piece
After my album fades, my competition will lyrically be deceased
Niggas saying I’m underrated
Like a younger Jay with heat, but not the ones the Thunder play with
So Los Angeles King is sort of an understatement
Let me find a gun up here, [when?] I leave you niggas under pavement
Tell ‘em they rent’s due, pay up or get cement shoes
All this dope be around, you act like I ain’t lean on that fence too
But now you up here and bitches and cars is what I’m into
You wanna send me to God, I wear 45 in that French shoe
I fuck with Wale, Ross, and my nigga French too
And me and Face just slashed the last beat up like a ginsu
My album like a ‘Rari, a lot of dope features
Glad you bought it, now sit back and just blow reefer
I know the concept behind it is gon’ reach ya
Now turn this mufucka up and blow speakers

Ladies and gentleman
I would like to introduce to you
An incredible gentleman
He goes by the name Elijah Blake
Let’s go

[Hook]

[Outro: Game]
And last but definitely not least
I wanna send a special shout out, to my nigga James Harden
Another Los Angeles nigga carrying rockets
Ballin’ on you bitches

THE GAME feat. Fabolous, Eric Bellinger & Slim Thug – Death Penalty

[Chorus]
For not being who you claim
You get found guilty
2 counts of bein lame
You get found guilty
The Charge of fuckin up the game
You get found guilty
Real niggas sentence you
Dead Penalty

[Fabolous]
Uhhh
Lets get back to this real shit
We ride no pump breaks
Errbody takin like they the shooters
Mann I ain’t goin for them pump fakes
These niggas is crump cakes
Wish they would say some snake
Get banged on like the treble makes
The dumb mistake tryin to jumpin with blake
These niggas in my lane
Lob city in these streets
Jesus piece on my chain
need God with me in these streets
I went through hell to get to where heaven is
Lucy in that red dress lookin devilish
Scale a 1 to 10 she lookin elevenish
If she ain’t ridin shotty AK 47 is
Shorty came to me when she left her man
I looked at her and said you sumthin else
But the best way to get over sumbody
Is gettin under sumone else
On that note I’m in that 1,2,3 pin that
Baby tellin me I’m the best I b yellin I been that
In the club half a pill and a full clip
Get a deal on a Rose no bullshit

[Game]
There goes ghost
I’m in that mothafucka like pacman
Niggas talkin about robin I ain’t goin for that batman
King of diamonds like super Sunday
100 thou for that lap dance
See straight thorugh you pussy niggas
I call that a cat scan
And on that note we in here
Pink coroc pronto
My gun throw bullets like payton manning
My chic walk around wit that bronco
Extend the clip in that conso
2 mill for that condo
We gon shot for that green
I ain’t talkin no rondo
Nigga tryin to say that I ain’t a G
I point it at him said you sumthin else
See these basketballs wife all around my table?
We bout to swim through em like Mike phelps
now pop open that tin pac
Your life savings I spend that
Niggas fan of my instagram
Beggin me for their bitch back
Sendin treats to my B M
Tryin to hack my email
Niggas wisperin to themselves
All huddled up like females
Your bitch about to be detailed
I ain’t sparin no details
She choked up like Sprewell
I drop her off in the v12 (niceeee)
Ridin around wit that Houston rocket
Keep all that of that Jeremy lin shit in yo pocket

[Chorus 2x]

[Slim Thug]
I’m goin back to cali
I’m goin back to cali
I’m out of drank and dro so I’m goin back to cali
I need pints by the cases for this bag of big faces
Couple pounds of that kush I ain’t the only one getting wasted
Smoke a lil, sell the rest Ima hustla baby
gotta Invest get mine plus interest
you niggas still ain’t winiing yet
I just sold my 4th bentley
Then I got that photo porche
Bout to switch it up for the summa
Thinkin bout that electric hummer
Strapped up got extra armor
in case a hatin nigga wanna play
everythang I rep a 100
you could check my resume
they don’t make em like me no more
They don’t make a miss t no more
I don’t see too many G’s
I jus see a bunch of CP 4’s
Lets get back to that real shit
That Pac BIG that UGk kinda trill shit
East West and the South
If you see a fake nigga point em out (point em out)

[Chorus]

THE GAME feat. Drake & Lifestyle – Come Up

[Hook: Drake]
You tryna come up, I am the come up
I be standin’ right here when the sun up
You be gettin’ done up if you niggas try and run up
You livin’ good, go ‘head and throw a one up
You tryna come up, I am the come up
I be standin’ right here when the sun up
You be gettin’ done up if you niggas try and run up
You livin’ good, go ‘head and throw ya one up

Scream out, blat-blatow blat-blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow
How ya like me now?
I’m like blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow
How ya like me now?
It go like blat-blatow blat-blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow
How ya like me now?
I’m like blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow, blat-blat-blatow
How ya like me now?

[Verse 1: Game]
My nigga funeral Fab told be back in ’03
Rap ain’t nothin’ but cash, money, bitches, foreign cars and trees
Cristal by the cases, bad bitches by the flocks
And I know I promised my niggas I’d never leave the block
But, shit changes
I done been through six Ranges
Hand on the Eagle, yeah I got them Mike Vick fingas
Throwin’ bullets on par with the accuracy
Hit your whole faculty, like, ain’t nobody jackin’ me
Before you do, you be layin’ in a box
While Jay kiss that ass goodbye, (mwuah), Lox
First shot, leave the niggas in shock
That second shot, that’s when that body drop (Ya heard me?)
And niggas still askin’ ’bout Detox
I’ll tell you if you tell me who killed Pac
Aight then, I’m at this Pacquiao fight then, with Tyson
The way he’s stickin’, and movin’ the knife, Floyd might win

[Hook]

[Verse 2: Lifestyle]
Testarossa, keep an extra toaster
It’s Hub city’s finest, they respect the most
My nigga Game do that, my nigga Tiger do that
Heard about the new cat, I whipped the Range through that
I’m in Toronto, Demar got a condo
Sittin’ courtside with Drake, Hector and Rondo
Bitches know my name, it’s Lifestyle, she fuck with that
Dick too big, like my lifestyle, you fuck with that?
Poppin’ champagne, we do the damn thing
Standin’ on the couches, Money Gang, that’s the campaign
B? in my pocket, Obama on my wrist
At the Ronald Reagan airport, yeah, I’m on my shit
Louis Vuitton luggage, peanut butter with the red wheels
Started when the RED Album dropped, yeah, I’m gettin’ head still
In the club, lookin’ past you niggas
These bitches gas them niggas, Drizzy, ask them niggas

[Hook]

THE GAME feat. King Chip & Trey Songz – Church

[Hook: Game]
I’m tryin’ to go to church
Get some chicken wings, after that hit the strip club
See my hoes, TWERK!
See bad girls be at the strip club
Good girls, they be in CHURCH!
Always wonder why my grandmother
Try to get me to go to CHURCH!
Please Lord forgive me, I’m bout to take niggas to CHURCH!

[Verse 1: Game]
Christian Louboutins, they’re my best friends
I’m bout to put these bitches to the test then
What ya callin’ spikes?
What color that box?
Is that a white bag in it?
Yea? No? Hold up. Stop
You ain’t bout that life (bout that life)
You ain’t bout that life
You don’t bounce that ass like, “Oh Lord!”
Then climb back up the pole to meet Christ
Saturday night, she twerkin it for a real nigga
These niggas hatin’, I hate them niggas
Make me wanna bring back Tommy Hilfiger
I’m in love with’ a stripper, Quotin’ the nigga T-Pain
Said I love dem’ strippers, word to my nigga 2 Chainz
Got a leather Ferrari, Eddie Murphy pants
Ya strippin? Gon’ twerk it then, cause’ after this…

[Hook]

[Bridge: Trey Songz (and Game)]
I know this ain’t the first night
Go on girl, just do your thang
Don’t be actin’ shy
Take a sip and just do it babe
Sittin here all night (just do it for me)
Don’t waste no time girl (just do it for me)
Girl I pray that, me and you lay down
Come on baby, lay down, go on, lay down
Sooner or later, sooner or later
The way you move that ass [?]
Go on, baby, lay down
(CHURCH!) Thicker than a Bible
(CHURCH!) I need it for survival
(CHURCH!) Lord save me!
(CHURCH!) Poppin’ bands for my baby

[Verse 2: Game]
I’m a crucify that pussy
I’m a nail it here, I’m a nail it there
I’m a mail it here, I’m a mail it there
Doin’ all this sippin’ Belvedere
Gotta sheriff here and a baliff here
All we missin is a judge
One night with a random bitch, and she’ll burn your ass like a rug
Real niggas gon’ say that, real niggas don’t play that
Real nigga’ll take a basic bitch, then close the trunk of that Maybach
Open the trunk to that Maybach, roll the bitch in that water
Conscience start gettin the best of you, gotta pull a ho outta that water
Try to make some sense of it, tell a ho she got baptized
Put a couple hundreds in her Trues, tell a ho to get her act right
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
Red bottoms will make her fuck. You broke niggas don’t stand a chance
CHURCH!

[Hook]

[Bridge]

[Verse 3: King Chip]
King Chip, eastside Cleveland ghetto mogul
You say, “Damn, you livin like that?”
I say, “Bitch, I told you.”
Sunday mornin, extra clean, get these bitches off of him
I’m a roll through your hood, and collect my offering
Seen her with a group of friends, damn she got the best butt
Then she turned around, lookin like Morris Chestnut
Aww, hell no, God damn. What the fuck?
Even though shit a nigga still might fuck…
You can be my “Plan C”, just in case my “A” and “B” can’t cut
Guess what? A nigga so fresh to death, I’m decomposin’
I just copped a dope ass condo, just to keep some hoes in
What I’m gon’ do with all these racks?
Damn, what she gonna do with all that ass?
That baby oil is Holy Water
Ever met a young nigga with too much cash?
Her baby daddy live by my words
Damn, she cold, she got them curves
Double parked outside of the club
Niggas like, “Damn, nigga got some nerves”
Smokin these L’s in the pulpit
With OG Chuck in the cool bitch
Got ten thousand all in ones cause, damn, that ass is stupid (Haha!)

[Bridge]

The Game feat. Wiz Khalifa, Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, & Tyga – Celebration

Get high, get high, get high, get high, get high
Westside, westside, westside, westside, westside
We havin’ a celebration, love to stay high

Nigga blowing on that ayo, breakin’ down them trees
I’m out the door with dro on the keys
Scooping up Chris and I’m hitting the freeway
Yeah, got a whole zip of that purp
Got a couple hoes home with no clothes on
Cause they roll on us, let’s twerk
Now we hotboxin’ that Ghost, Ace all in that do’
Ray Bans in my face, never know when my eyes low
Smoke good, fuck good, eat good, steakhouse
She said backwoods, kill swishers, you eat take out
Yeah, but I love fucking them redbones
She country thick and that hair long, that pussy killer, she dead wrong
She went to Howard, her head strong, her mamma tall, so her legs long
She went to college and got her masters, now she bringing that bread home
Roll up

Put the purp in the blunt
Get high, get high, get high, get high, get high
Put the purp in the blunt
Westside, westside, westside, westside, westside

It’s a celebration, all on the pole they doing the dance
Anticipating I’m feeling your body, hoping that you would just give me a chance
God damn babe, just hold your glass up for this toast
My cash up and yo ass up, and I’m the one tippin’ the most
Tonight, on the westside
And if you wanna roll, have the best fuckin night of your life, no lie, no lie
Me and you together girl I’m celebratin’ you tonight

Uh, yeah I’m bloooown no cigarillo, rillo
Love when I’m Mellow, get on my level 101 Karats in my bezel
I’m ooooon, like soon as the ice cream truck at the ghetto
Little knucklehead always in difficulty shortly as we ask shawty her number, fashooooooo
Yeah I get it, then I bone, then I hit it like bone bone
Now you fucking up my zone, my zone, my zone
Said she wait when daddy come home
Told me she ain’t got nothing on
I’m talkin’ no th-thong. thong thooooong
Yeah she throwin’ that ass back
Hard as a bat, sit on my lap
Fucking with me, ain’t nothing better than that
That’s a fact, thats a fact
Don’t act hollywood cause I don’t act
Bout my business but I don’t slack
This my celebration rap, so

I pour up for Pimp C, light up for Soulja Slim
Straight out the gutter, with the rest of the bowlin’ pins
Money for days, bitches go both ways
On the road to riches, bitch I got road rage
Got the kush in the swisher, got the pussy, the liquor
Got a silencer on the gun, take it off like a stripper
Yeah, wake up, wake up, I’m goin’ at your face make up
These niggas need stitches cause they taking pay cuts
Man somebody tell them hoes it’s a celebration
All my niggas got guns no registration
Now go an’ light that weed up, I’m Trukfit tee’d up
Hoes down, B’s up

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, I’m floatin’ I’m gone

Tags: Chris Brown, Lil Wayne, Tyga, Wiz Khalifa

THE GAME feat. Kobe – Cats And Dogs

Welcome to the Republic, of Cali-i-for-nia
While you’re here, you can get updates
And snap a picture with us on Instagram
At DJ Skee – I can’t say his name!
Y’all ain’t gon’ get me in trouble, hehe
Facebook, Twitter, @TheGame
@DJSkee, follow us! As we lead you with this

[Chorus: Kobe]
Not what you feared then bitch
You gon’ learn to shut yo’ mouth
Cause we gon’ eat now, now
Now, now
Fuck yo’ feelings bitch
Just gon’ huff yo’ acid here
And roll this shit ’round
Hold this shit down
Come move them thangs for me babyyyyy
Across town, town
And make sure they touch down
Eeee, ahhh, just make it in town
Then make sure they touch down
Touch down

[The Game]
Uh-huh; I need a gangster bitch nigga I ain’t lyin
I’m talkin when I fuck she scream, you hear sirens
No domestic violence (violence)
Just domestic dominance
So let me ice you out so when you slidin down the pole
Doin your Magic City thing yo’ neck and wrist glow
I’m dreamin, she ain’t a stripper, she a classy girl
Gon’ off that Patron, she my nasty girl
First name Rachal, last name Jones
You related to Nas? Girl, Queens my second home
You know you, (Prince Akeem) come with a (Semi) we can tear it up
Weekend in Cannes, then we (Coming to America)
Wear them Jimmy Chus but she love that Gucci
Never been to A-T-L but she love that (Gucci) (brrr!)
She taught me how to cook Cajun, I taught her how to cook crack
And I chopped it on her back, now tell me where they do that?

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I put her on a Greyhound, she know she better stay down
Ride or die like my Bentley man this bitch’ll never break down
She my “Bust It Baby,” you should see her bust a trey pound
Love Roc-A-Fella so much she won’t even call me Jay now
She roll my weed man, like she my wingman
Then we get high, play Tiger Woods on that weed damn
Love is four season, haters 365
In the game cats and dogs, keep your bitch by your side
Got a hardtop Lambo’ when the rain start to pour
Not the rain outside, talkin the rain indoors
Her girlfriend told her, that I was creepin with a stripper
Told her I was courtside, watchin the whack ass Clippers
Bitch please! I’m a Laker fan, and Kobe that’s my nigga
Keep my grass cut so I can see when the snake slither
Shit came out of nowhere like Khloe and Lamar
Kinda got a nigga thinkin maybe I’m

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I let her drive the Range on our first date
She the first one to put me on that Drake mixtape
“I just wanna be successful baby”
Take you out them Hudson Jeans and redress you baby
We can walk down Rodeo, turn around, you on Melrose
Fly to New York in the winter and try on some Timbos
Or we can hit South Beach, fuck with Ross and Timbo
The world is cherry pie and we can (Slice) it up like (Kimbo)
You cook the rock, I break it down, I wrap it up, you weigh them pounds
I make the car, you start the car, we can drive it out of town
I’m your nigga right? And you my bitch (yeah)
Even if they lock me up, she gon’ get them brakes there
When we get tired, we hit the truck stop and sit there
And zip my 501′s and, she gon’ put her lips there
The memoirs of a perfect bitch
You gotta hold them down even if it’s

[Chorus]

THE GAME feat. K. Roosevelt – Can’t Get Right

[Verse 1: Game]
I bumped Ether, bumped Takeover
Seein’ Jay and Nas on stage was hip-hop’s makeover
And that very day you knew niggas was born
Tyler the Creators, Drake, J. Coles, and Big Seans
Time for the world to pay homage
Bow to the rap Gods or them K’s vomit
Fuck you know about Dipset you little dipshit
If you ain’t fuck, then you ain’t get your dick wet
I see your little chain
I see your little dreads, tryin’ to be a Lil Wayne, shit
I used to wanna be a little Hov
Started with a little rock, got me a little stove
Made a little money, bought me a little Rov’
Paid cash money like I was from Hollygrove
Sold ten mill, everybody know my name now
Thinkin’ back, it’s a motherfuckin’ shame how
Biggie got killed and Pac got murked
Sometimes I gotta step in the church, cause I ain’t tryin’ to go to hell
As the blood spills from my pen
It’s time to confess my sins, cause I ain’t tryin’ to go to hell
I smoke weed, pop pills, but I’m thinkin’ it’s time for me to chill
Cause I ain’t tryin’ to go to hell
I’m tryin’ to get some head tonight, have a stripper in my bed tonight
But I ain’t tryin’ to go to hell

[Hook: K. Roosevelt]
Father forgive me, cause I ain’t perfect
No, no no no
Why is everything wrong?
Oh I can’t get it right, I always try to get it right

[Verse 2: Game]
Dre promised me records, I never got ‘em
That’s why I had nightmares that a nigga shot him
For all my albums missed records
Felt he shitted on me for Kendrick, recorded diss records
And Kendrick, my nigga, put him on his first mixtape
I pop champagne when I heard he was with Dre
And I’m tellin’ y’all this true story cause I’m real
Dre, first time, hearing ’bout it, wonder how he feel
Cause I feel like shit severin’ the relationship
The only doctor I knew to make all of his patients rich
Snoop, Pac, Em, 50
Me, K. Dot, watch us do a 360
Plus The Documentary saved me from penitentiaries
I ain’t trippin’, niggas been disloyal for centuries
Finally got the crown, this motherfucker meant for me
Funny how you do your top 5′s and don’t mention me
Fuck ‘em all

[Hook]

[Break: K. Roosevelt]
See I been spendin’ these late nights
Oo, girls I never seen gettin’
Constantly intoxicated
Only God could save me, yeah
With ‘em by the sunrise
One day everyone dies
That’s the way the story goes
But now, I can’t feel my heart
But I just keep ridin’, ridin’
Feel so numb, numb, oh yeah

[Hook]

THE GAME – California

(People trying)
[Game:] Tryna to do what?
(To find a way out)
[Game:] Oh, yeah! That was me in 2004
(Love ain’t around)
[Game:] Ain’t never been around
(Look at California)
[DJ Skee:] Just like we back again
[Game:] Yeah
[Skee:] Fresh of that Purp & Patron
[Game:] That’s right
[Skee:] This is The Hangover
[Game:] Every time you look at me…
[Skee:] And I just landed back in. Live from LA
[Game:] …You look at California
[Skee:] I’m the world famous DJ Skee
[Game:] I am the Westside
[Skee:] I told you I’m only dropping classics
Reppin’ that Westcoast. Yo Game, I don’t think they ready

Palm trees, beautiful women
Drop top phantom now this is living
Started off chopping crack in my grandma kitchen
But y’all know that, so let’s get down to bidness
Outta towners beware, of what you wear
“Yo son, I’m from New York,” but we don’t care
The Crips, the Bloods, the Esé’s. The daytons, the dogs, the chevys
What you know about Cali and everything I rate
Nigga I make the dinner you be sure to scrape the plate
From Compton’s Most to N.W.A
From Snoop Dogg Dr. Dre, niggas love us
What about the bitches? You mean these bitches bouncing in my back seat while my Impala hit switches?
They riding with the king, a California king
If it ain’t about that it ain’t ’bout a motherfucking thing
I’m living the American Dream
Sitting fat but I don’t sing
I don’t fuck wit rats if you know what I mean
You thinking 50 but I am talking Christina Milian
Sucked a million dicks but still ain’t sold a million
Bitch trying to get a ride like a Milian
I know you like, “What this gotta do in LA?”
Bitch tried to fuck me and she almost fucked Dre so…

Yeah, slow this shit down man
I’ma let California fuck you now
That’s right
Yeah, how it feel?
Y’know California niggas
Got big dicks, big trucks, big mouths, big guns
We’ll fuck you all night

Straight RnB
Black Wall Street Records we don’t play no games
I mean after 4 hours we’ll fuck you off on a nigga
I got the houses; here, Miami
Condo in New York, condo in Wilshire
I done lived in Beverly Hills
Look down the street at Range Rovers, Bentleys and Phantoms passing by
As the wind blows through my motherfucking, fades
Niggas know what it is wit me nigga
California king and that’s for life
Don’t give a fuck what a nigga say

Let me introduce ya, to something you not used to
I’m California’s future
Sit back watch what I do to
These Dre beats, these Timbaland tracks
I just blazed and my spit crack
I Scott Storch em we can’t afford em
Every hot producer seen Game record
My flow outta this word, like Neptunes
California was dying, I came to the rescue
First time Snoop Dogg ever heard me spit
His reply was like, “Damn, nephew”
That was ’05
And I was so eleven, four hours, six years I’m ahead of my time
I let you niggas be LeBron
Even he can’t see Kobe in his prime
Picture Kobe in Lebrons
That’s too much game I’m outta my mind
And that’s a hot line
I think niggas wanna hear me say that one more time
Picture Kobe in Lebrons
That’s too much game I’m outta my mind
Outta my soul
Been having outta body experiences since I was 7 years old
Look at California he ain’t scared
Shot a deuce five ‘fore he had Nike Airs
My pops like, “There go the block”
I’m like, “Where?”
Brass knuckles in my Levi’s never fight fair
20 years later I’m right here
Red rag wiping off all white Airs
Let a nigga step on em. I’ma go Wycleff on him
Could go Raekwon the Chef on him
Throwing up a dub, bangin’ Wu-Tang
Riding with a chopper like a young Hussein
In a new Range
Fuck wit the Crips but I’m from the P.I.R.U gang
Momma I did it. You told me to so I spit it
I don’t just talk Cali I live it
From Aftermath to sit wit it I’m sick wit it
So nigga admit it
You’ll never be Game
Never be Pac, never be Doggy Dogg
I don’t know why you spit cos nigga you ain’t shit
You writing for Detox? Nigga suck my dick
Me and Hittman, did that before
First mailman left then I seen the trap door
Came in from the back
Nobody could stop him
Not EVE, Busta Rhymes or Rakeem
And Bust my nigga, so I would never diss him
Fuck over any other rapper with Henny in my system
Who want it? Not Jigga
I’m treacherous like trigger
I’m Naughty by Nature nigga with more priors than Richard
And I can say whatever cos I made Jimmy Iovine richer
And he get richer every time I call you a bitch ass nigga
Let Chris Bosh run up on Kobe again
I’ma catch him in the club and open his chin
Cos I ride or die for this Cali shit
Break a nigga off proper like a valley bitch
I chop a nigga down like a brick of raw
I’m notorious like Biggy Smalls
I know he from New York but he like me
Last thing I wanna do ‘fore I D.I.E. is
Look at, look at, look at California [repeats]…

I know New York the mecca of hip hop
A-town stay doing their thing
Chi-town breed Kanye and motherfucking Common
Sometimes y’all gotta look at California
Ay yo Jimmy Iovine, tell Dre these headphones the shit