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

"Must be me"

Wake up in the mornin', oh, sh*t
Had to c*ck the 9, n*ggas tryin' to steal my b*tch
Run out the back door, see them n*ggas hit the fence
I'm tellin' you, life ain't Compton, it's a b*tch
Let off a couple shots, goddamn, I missed
Sayin' f*ck it anyway, let off the whole clip
I'm not to be f*cked with when I'm off liquor
Old English in my system 'bout to kill me a n*gga
See, I remember back in the days, loadin' my A.K
Ridin' 'round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze
That's when I didn't give a f*ck, now I got my sons
Shoot a n*gga, he die, public enemy number one
But this ain't no action flick, no Johny Depp sh*t
When the TEC spit hollow tips in your Lexus
So, don't f*ck with a Compton n*gga
When he packin' a gat, yeah n*gga, I stay strapped
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Is it the shades? Is it the J's?
Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?
Or the old school sittin' on glaze?
What could it be?
It's 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I'm 'bout to roll a swisher
'Cause that's what real n*ggas do when they at home
Watchin' E.S.P.N. on a 70 inch flatscreen
K.G.'s away Jersey blowin' chronic that green
Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams
Turn hood zombies into an Olympic track team
Till I got got shot and infiltrated the rap scene
Had to clear my life up, Doc. gave me the vaccine
Don't get it twisted, I still click clack things
Red beam attached to each and every strap
That I keep locked up in my basement
If I shoot a n*gga will I be known
For gettin' Jason, I don't know
Still got a sick phase for shoot outs and car chases
f*ck Paccino 'cause we know n*ggas with scarred faces
And we go back like D-boys with small faces
And we crashin' them Ferraris like y'all hate me
Pharrell I think it's
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Is it the shades? Is it the J's?
Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?
Or the old school sittin' on glaze, what could it be?
(You know they ass is full)
n*ggas can't f*ck with me, will stit
I guess I am a motha f*ckin' legend, Will Smith
All I'm missin' is a b*tch like Jaya, Bonnie and Clyde sh*t
Hit the fence like later, Syonara or we the dirt sh*t
Black rose phantom interior hurt sh*t
And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn b*tches
Them hoes, they never testify, Beefs to Common
But Game keep it hood like Weez and top Rommy
Never stop comin' for the top
If it bakes a flesh wound if Feralla headshot
Motha f*cka and when he take aim, bullets into your frame
My boss and allowed to when trigga swallow your vein
Can't walk through the club and take a p*ss
Without these new school rap n*ggas on my di*k
Why you f*ck around with you jewelry and all your wrist?
I pull up with your b*tch pumpin' gangsta sh*t, now you know
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Somethin' hot in here, n*gga, it must be me
Is it the shades? Is it the J's?
Is it the Bentley with the four colorways?
Or the old school sittin' on glaze, what could it be?
Do you thing shawty, do your thing shawty
Do you thing shawty, err'body lookin' now
Do you thing shawty, do your thing shawty
Do you thing shawty, err'body lookin' now
Go, go, go, go, go, go, err'body lookin' now
Go, go, go, go, go, go, err'body lookin' now

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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