Lyrics

, real gangstas stand up, hold they dick, bitch niggaz 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 niggaz 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-oh, 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, if there's 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, 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 chuck, 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 niggaz 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 that pickup, a1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up, cause i kill like the hiccups, two at a time, put you niggaz next to each other how i do 'em in line, 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 driveby 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,

Song details

Artist: game, the