The young Roy Jones in the rap shit Somebody bout to get knocked the fuck out tonight man
Niggas think they got The Game sold Yeah right I'm air tight Fresh in them Air Nikes If the navvy outside I might be there Black hoodie, black nine, black white v Airs Like Caddy trunks keep a spare You see the lump under the ice berg fleece and yeah And when the beef cooks I'm a put the piece through your hair And if you see a white truck that mean the sheets is there Then I'm goin goin back back to the block To dump the bucket and jump in the drop Niggas know I'm good with the glock They call me chick herns cause The Game or not I'm calling the shots I wear a shiny suite 4 em and they like them alot They get gangsta with a SWAT me bag and a Jordan box So when I die, bury me with the glock and a bucket of shells In case niggas want drama in Hell
I'll give you anything you ask for Money over bitches! Tell me what you blast for We don't fuck around with snitches! What you have the smash for This bitch tried to play me man! Anything you ask for It's all about the bank Game!
First things first Money over bitches Swore say my name in vain watch main Brake the bones in your nose I'm a flick time rida Inner city flipper Watch who try to flip more like their neighbors want digger Sergeant at arms who playin, I'm a General So draw your fire arms when you in the presence of criminals And motherfuckers subliminal metaphors or adjectives I come to where you live and send 60 rounds inside your crib! Killer by instinct Murderer by nature Killer Cali earth quakes ya Ain't nothin but bone brakers Is nothin like puffin on this justall ass pound Became in my turner Have your mouth twisted just like Bobby Brown Fuck what you might of read Fuck what your people said Back in this bitch and o 6 is The Game in lead Highly anticipated the day has finally came I slap a patch of meat off a nigga head for Game Fer real!