A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

The Game

"Dead Bodies"

We out in this...P and Game, we'll blow that b*tch up
From the world's most infamous, 1st Infantry
(Alchemist, this sh*t raw like fresh beef playa
We boyz in da hood...wanna see a dead body)

Sittin' in a lowrider, murda on my mind
'Cause I had too many dead homies in my lifetime
That's why I ride wit a nine and dem hollow tips
Lift n*ggas like a chrome hydraulic switch
Wit a hood rat in the car that swallow di*ks
So good that I got P on that six-four Impala sh*t
She from Compton just like me
Caramel wit extensions just like Eve
She want to go to a Knicks game, sit next to Spike Lee
Well do the right thing, blow a n*gga out his Nikes
She married to The Game, that's wifey
Ask Gotti get them blood stains out your white tee
P in the backseat finger f*ckin' her girlfriend
That'll put a golf ball hole in your right cheek
Start trippin' over colors like Ice-T
And you can watch your life slip away through an I.V

We out in Cali, P and Game straight blow that b*tch up
We out in New York, P and Game we blow that b*tch up
You can't stop us, we gettin' this money its not bangin'
You can't pull that sh*t this way, we head bangin'
Wit dem Glocks and dem oo-ops
Me and my fools shoot, wutchu tryin' do that
I suggest you do not
My chain is hot, what's more hot than that
That's how I murda music, that's why your broads on my back
Got two birds on my shoulders, they all over me
And ready to f*ck Game and whoever else roll wit me
My presence is strong, I have a b*tch seein' dollar
Signs spots stare at me too long
Have you seein' that white light you come at me wrong
Or any one of my dawgs, I'll be settin' it off
You was raised on beef and live real drama
Don't let the coupes twist you, we lettin' o's off

We out in this...P and Game, we'll blow that b*tch up
(P and Game rollin' the Dutch)
P and Game, we'll blow that b*tch up, mixed with the A L see
NYC to LA we do our sweep

We out in Compton, P and Game lacin' Chucks
We out in QB, P and Game rollin' a Dutch
Dumpin' ashes out the windshield
Haze got my head spinnin like dem 24 inch wheels
Ridin' to Suga Hill bangin' shook ones
On the westside highway, hand on the steel
If I like your chain then blood spill
'Cause I ain't getta million dollars when I signed my deal

n*gga I'll tie your wife to a chair and blow that b*tch up
You better fire proof your crib, I'll blow that sh*t up
I'm all about this crime sh*t for real, this rap sh*t is luck
Try to score points on me, I'll fasten you up
In that smelly proof bag, real real fast
Shoot the deuce under my arm, I'm real real slick
Can't put a tail on me, I drive too fast
Can't put tag on me, I smoke people ass

If you from the westside, n*gga throw that sh*t up
If you bang to eastside, n*gga throw that sh*t up
I ain't tryna be in The Source or Double X L
I'm just tryna f*ck Trina 'cause Dre said sex sells
And it was either this or jail
Imagine tryna fit birds in a Honda Accel
And they caught up on the Fed Ex mail
So we stopped doin' business and chirpin' on Nextels
We gangstas

I fold people in half, I tore people ass
But they still want to ride out as long as we see death
I get money, and I don't need your help or friendship
But love, I'ma survive just how I been
I'ma stay alive till the day I die
But right now I'm healthy, n*ggas betta get up off my
A b*tch is nuttin' we easily f*ck it
And we possessed by the cash and these guns we bustin'...

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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