[Intro: The Game]
Let's make it big Pharell

[Verse 1: The Game]
Wake up in the morning, oh shit!
Had to cock the 9, n***as tryin' to steal my pits
Went out the back door, see them n***as hit the fence
I’m telling you, life in Compton is a bitch
Let off a couple shots, God damn, I missed
Say fuck it anyway, and let off the whole clip
I’m not to be fucked with, when I’m off liquor
Old English in my system, ‘bout to kill me a n***a
See, I remember back in the days, loadin’ my AK
Ridin’ ‘round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze
That's when I didn’t give a fuck, now I got my son
Shoot a n***a, he die, public enemy number one
But, this ain’t no action flick, no Johnny Depp shit
When the Tec spit hollow tips in your Lexus
So. Don’t fuck with a Compton n***a when he packin’ the gat
Yeah, n***a, I stay strapped

[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s?
Is it the Bentley with the full color ways?
Or the old-school sittin’ on blades
What could be?
[Verse 2: The Game]
It’s 2-o’-clock in the afternoon, I’m ‘bout to roll a Swisher
‘Cause that's what real n***as do when they at home
Watchin’ ESPN on the 70-inch flat screen
K-Gs and Wade jerseys, blowin’ chronic, that green
Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams
Turn hood zombies into a Olympic track team
‘Till I got shot, and infiltrated the rap scene
Had to clean 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***a, will the Lord forgive Jayceon?
I don’t know, still got a sick fetish for shoot-outs and car chases
Fuck Pacino, ‘cause we know n***as with scarfaces
And we go back, like D-Boys and small faces
And we crashin’ new Ferraris while ya'll hatin'
Pharrell I think it’s

[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s?
Is it the Bentley with the full color ways?
Or the old-school sittin’ on blades
What could be?
You know the answer, fool
[Verse 3: The Game]
N***as cain’t fuck with me, real spit
I guess I am a motherfucking legend, Will Smith
All I’m missin’ is a bitch like Jada, Bonnie & Clyde shit
Hit the fence like later, sayonara, arrivederci
Black rose Phantom, interior hearse shit
And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn bitches
Them hoes’ll never testify, peace to Common
But Game keep it hood like weaves and Top Ramen
Never stop coming for the top
If the bass a flesh wound and Pharrell a head shot
Motherfucker, and when he take aim
Bullets enter your frame, my bars simi-lar
To a dragon swalloin’ flames
Cain’t walk through the club and take a piss
Without these new school rap n***as on my dick
While you fuck around with your jewelry and all your whips
I pull up with your bitch pumpin’ gangsta shit
Now you know

[Chorus: Pharrell Williams]
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Somethin’ hot in here
N***a, it must be me!
Is it the shades? Is it the J‘s?
Is it the Bentley with the full color ways?
Or the old-school sittin’ on blades
What could be?
You know the answer, fool
[Outro: Pharrell Williams]
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
E’rybody lookin’ now
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
Do ya thing, shawty
E’rybody lookin’ now
Go, Go, Go
Go, Go, Go
E’rybody lookin’ now
Go, Go, Go
Go, Go, Go
E’rybody lookin’ now