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The Game
The Game


Background information
Birth name Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Born November 29, 1979
Born place Los Angeles, California, United States
Origin Compton, California, United States
Genre(s) Hip-hop
Gangsta Rap
Years active 2002—present
Label(s) Geffen Records
Interscope Records
G-Unit Records
Aftermath Entertainment
Associated acts 50 Cent
Snoop Dogg
Lil Wayne
Nas
Pharrell Williams
Busta Rhymes
Website Website



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  T  →  The Game  →  Albums  →  LAX

The Game Album


LAX (08/22/2008)
08/22/2008
1.
LAX Intro (feat. DMX)
2.
3.
State Of Emergency (feat. Ice Cube)
4.
Bulletproof Diaries (feat. Raekwon)
5.
My Life (feat. Lil Wayne)
6.
7.
Cali Sunshine (feat. Bilal)
8.
Ya Heard (feat. Ludacris)
9.
Hard Liquor (Interlude)
10.
11.
Gentleman's Affair (feat. Ne-Yo)
12.
Let Us Live (feat. Chrisette Michele)
13.
Touchdown (feat. Raheem DeVaughn)
14.
Angel (feat. Common)
15.
Never Can Say Goodbye (feat. LaToya Williams)
16.
Dope Boys (feat. Travis Barker)
17.
Game's Pain (feat. Keyshia Cole)
18.
Letter To The King (feat. Nas)
19.
LAX Outro (feat. DMX)
*
Ain't Fuckin With You (iTunes/Deluxe Edition bonus track)
*
Big Dreams (Deluxe Edition bonus track)
*
Camera Phone (feat. Ne-Yo; Deluxe Edition bonus track)
*
Nice (feat. Newz; Deluxe Edition bonus track)
*
Spanglish (Deluxe Edition bonus track)
. . .


(feat. DMX)

[DMX]
In the name of Jesus, let us pray
Father we thank you for wakin us up this morning
We thank you for surrounding us with your guardian angels as we slept
We thank you for waking our family and friends and loved ones as well
Keeping us safe
We thank you for, waking our enemies this day father
For they are your children as we are
Lord I, Earl Simmons, stand in the gap with Jayceon Terrell Taylor
And pray that, he he's continued, as a child of yours
He's continued in your face, he's continued with the blessings
that you've blessed so many others with
In the name of Jesus
We pray that any obstacle, the devil plans to place in our path
be removed in the name of Jesus father
Every spirit, everything ugly that we come up against
Right now father, every spirit of addiction
Every spirit of ANGER~!
Every spirit of JEALOUSY, every spirit of DECEPTION
Every spirit of GREED! EVERY SPIRIT OF ENVY!
EVERY SPIRIT OF LUST, WE COME AGAINST
RIGHT NOW IN THE NAME OF JESUS FATHER
Let us say, DEVIL, I rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, we rebuke you in the name of Jesus
DEVIL, WE REBUKE YOU, IN THE NAME OF JESUS~!
[thunder rolls and ends]

. . .


(Game Talking)
Put you're lighters up if you want to
Pull you're muthafuckin' Dodger caps over you're muthafuckin' eyes
Til' you can't see shit
I want you to go blind nigga
So you can feel how I felt when I was in that muthafuckin' coma

(Chorus)
Raised in the city of angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes
So stranger drive slow [drive slow]
Where beggers and gangstas pass
Women and dank are
Just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean
We move in slow motion
Off that sticky you us to blow
I swear ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, the one blood

Come to my hood [hood]
Look at my block [block]
That's that project building, yeah that's where I got shot [shot]
Cause I was more hood than Suge
Had more rocks than Jay
More scars on my face than the original Scarface
Or the homeboy Scarface
Al Pacino couldn't be no gangsta'
Deniro in Casino he no gangsta'
Wanna be, wanna see, wanna get a shovel, dig tookie up nigga
Cause he know gangstas
Niggas think cause they watch menace a couple times
Seen Cuban boys in the hood and press rewind
That you can survive when a real crip run upon your car an flex the nine
You must be out of your mind
A real blood will put you out of your mind
So stay the fuck up out of my hood
Or my niggas take you up out of your shine
It ain't a movie dog
Hell yeah it's a real fuckin' Uzi dog
I'm bout to hop inside my Impala
Try to keep up, don't loose me ya'll

(Chorus)
Raised in the city of angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes
So stranger drive slow [drive slow]
Where beggers and gangstas pass
Women and dank are
Just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean
We move in slow motion
Off that sticky you us to blow
I swear ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, the one blood

I know the real O-Dog
And that nigga know the real Game
I call him the rinse tape
And he never been in no gang
But he been in my house [house]
And he set on my couch [couch]
While I put one in the air
So yeah that nigga know what I'm bout [bout]
I'm bout my hood
I'm bout my block
I'm bout my chips
So if the rat mony stop and I punch a clock
Catch you slippin at a light [get out yo' shit]
We jack niggas, out of towners
And rap niggas, and ball players
Cause we ball player
We chop it up with them trap niggas
We Outkasts, we big boys
Ludacris with them big toys
Where I'm from there's only two things standing on the corner
Me and that liquor store
Look what the bloods did to Weezy
Look what the crips did to Jeezy
This gang banger shit ain't nothing to play with
Me and Snoop Dogg just made it look easy

(Chorus)
Raised in the city of angels
Where safe and danger switch lanes
So stranger drive slow [drive slow]
Where beggers and gangstas pass
Women and dank are
Just part of a face that we show
We got mountains and ocean
We move in slow motion
Off that sticky you us to blow
I swear ain't nothing better there
That's why we all take our hats off to you, the one blood

You niggas got this L.A shit real fucked up man,
Niggas better start respecting what the fuck we about man,
We take niggas the fuck out
This shit ain't no movie dawg,
This shit is real; crips, bloods, eses.
We hold shit down, this is L.A.
Wrote the shit on my face, put a mutafuckin star behind.
What the fuck I am...Starface
LA chronicles, LAX files, Case closed.

. . .


California ain't a state, it's an army

[Verse 1: The Game]

One motherfucker in the projects killing
The same motherfucker that'll burn down the village
With a chronic blunt full of that - you know, who don't
Take you back to Compton in that 6-4 two door
Subwoofers in the trunk, kicking that lethal injection
A hood nigga lost with no direction
So he bought a black Smith and Wesson
Strapped on his vest and that's his protection
At the intersection waiting on the rival
Coz in the city of angels it's all about survival
Fuck the 5-0, they wanna see you D.O.A.
Welcome to L.A.
Where the ghetto birds flying over my auntie's and my cousin's house
Tell me what they buzzin bout
The lil homie got smoked on the corner
And now his momma crying, dead in California

[Chorus: The Game & Ice Cube]

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

[Verse 2: The Game]

Jumped in my Impala took a trip to the ?
To scoop up Ego Trippin' and a white tee
Coz some niggas in my old hood don't like me
Time to put they ass in check, like my Nikes
Til they hear my nigga Mack 10 on the chirp
All I need is me and my bitch
You scared? Go to church
Coz in California niggas crack heads for the turf
Their life ain't nothing but Tec 9's and dirt
Dipping through the jungles, my Escalade hit a dip
Fuck!
Here come the Guerrillas in the Mist
And they dress like Ice Cube was in '96
Stone cold jheri curl and not one drip
I'll sleep with the worms before I swim with the fish
And I'll ride with my niggas before I roll with a bitch
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
And I almost got shot coz I couldn't hit a fence

[Chorus: The Game & Ice Cube]

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

[Verse 3: The Game]

Call the U.S. government and tell em this a motherfucking code red
Niggas try to straight-up jack me
Now they both dead
Third little nigga got away on his moped
Caught him 'round the corner, put the beam on his forehead
Jumped in the Impala then smashed through the light
Without a one-time in sight, so I bust right
on Century headed to the L.A.X.
Where their ain't nothing but fly bitches and jets
In and out of lanes and I almost wrecked
Off bread nigga in the 600 throwing up the set
He must don't know, I got the 40 on deck
and the Tec
Tryna ?? time to flex
It's the third time this shit happened to me all day
Guess it's time to add another dead body to the throwaway
So I turn down the Spice 1 tape and hit the switch
Emptied a whole clip in his fucking face

[Chorus: The Game & Ice Cube]

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

Motherfuckers ain't gon learn
Til the chronic blunt don't burn
And you cant see nothing but the
ghetto bird light shining through the fucking palm trees
California ain't a state, it's an army

California ain't a state, it's an army

. . .


(feat. Raekwon)

[Intro: Raekwon]
Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah
Sit my alligator jacket on the flo'
Let that shit crawl around, whattup Game?
How are you my nigga?
Let's get this money, you heard?

[The Game (Raekwon)]
Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
My killas gorillas, niggaz couldn't see 'em with gazelles
Frontin ass niggaz, go hang with Pharrell
Tryin to be a (Cowboy), you catch bullets like Terrell
Owens, call it T.O., he leakin like a project sink
Busted open like a hot dog link
Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin prison thing
Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
I'm from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got (Killa Bees) (respect)
Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
Got a million dollars say LeBron don't win a ring (word?)
I know Kobe, I be on the floor, "Kobe!"
You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
I got a (Cuban Link) to a fuckin O.G.
And nigga you're too close, what the fuck, tryna blow me? (back up)
This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
(Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin ones)
Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ'
(Big sharks) Me too (swimmin in a pile of ones)

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
In the Bronx

[Raekwon (The Game)]
This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin warm)
(Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
I'ma keep it (Compton) Staten ('til the day is done)

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Geah, frontin on us nigga, it's like
It's like racin a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
You gon' fuck around and get your head burnt

[Raekwon]
I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
Hip-Hop's never dead, the (Cuban) gave 'em heart attacks
Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the V's
Sneeze wrong, course I'm clappin
Keep it movin homeboy, the mac's always actin
Spit in your face, go 'head lil' baby rappers
Can't fuck with us convicts, Stat-land
It's like actions, cliques'll die right with traction
It's Wall Street money and two gunny's
Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
Blow your head off like lunch meat
Chef in the game run the country
Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin
Fuck with they paper their gun squeezin
Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season

[Interlude: Raekwon]
Yo, man yo Game man
Let these niggaz know man f'real man
We official man
They wan' be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?

[The Game (Raekwon)]
(Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
I'd be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
(Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
West coast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
My style's smokin like, after a glock spit
Game get the blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris'
Style like it's New Year's, cause this a new year
Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
The Benjamins won't stop, and neither would a chrome glock
I kill a fire-breathin dragon with a dome shot
Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
We had a meetin before we got here, and shit gon' pop
Heads gon' roll, Patron gon' spill
Fitted caps gettin peeled like the chrome on the wheels
Got a half a mil', sing your wounds won't heal
I declare war, nigga who gon' deal?

[Outro: Raekwon]
Yeah, y'all know what time it is man
"Bulletproof Diary" nigga, for real
Many may read this man
A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
All them real general niggaz man
All them niggaz that's out there man
Don't get no rest or none of that man, for real
The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
Get a lot of bread man, word up, hun'ned my nigga
We take you to Boca Chica or some'n man, knahmsayin?
Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or some'n, y'knahmsayin?
With two foul rings on, y'knahmsayin?
Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
Niggaz ain't seen them colors man [fades out]

. . .


{*Dogs barking, man panting then gasps, explosion and glass shatters*}



[Intro: The Game]

Punk-ass motherfucker, checkin shit

What you was gon' do, kill me in my sleep you bitch-ass nigga?

{*dogs still barking*} Tupac, Biggie, shut the fuck up!

Them fuckin dogs, barkin and shit (don't shoot, don't shoot)

{*gun cocks, BLAM*} Fuck you nigga



[Chorus: Lil Wayne]

And I'm grindin until I'm tired

Cause they said you ain't grindin until you tired

So I'm grindin with my eyes wide, lookin to find

A way through the day, a life for the night

Dear Lord you done took so many of my people

I'm just wonderin why you haven't taken my life (my life, my life)

Like what the hell am I doin right? (doin right)

My life (my life, my life)



[The Game] (Lil Wayne)

Take me away from the hood, like a state penitentiary

Take me away from the hood, in a casket or a Bentley

Take me away, like I overdosed on cocaine

Or take me away, like a bullet from Kurt Cobain

Suicide, I'm from a Windy City , like Do or Die

From a block close to where Biggie was crucified

That was Brooklyn's Jesus, shot for no fuckin reason

And you wonder why Kanye wears Jesus pieces (my life, my life)

Cause that's Jesus people, and Game, he's the equal

Hated on some much Passion that Christ need a sequel

Yeah, like Roc-a-Fella need a Sigel

Like I needed my father, but he needed a needle (my life, my life)

I need some meditation, so I can lead my people

They askin why, why did John Lennon leave The Beatles?

And why every hood nigga feed off evil?

Answer my question 'fore this bullet leave this Desert Eagle



[Chorus]



[The Game] (Lil Wayne)

We are not the same, I am a Martian

So approach my Phantom doors with caution

You see them 24's spinnin? I earned them

And I aint no preacher but heres my Eric Sermon

So eat this black music and tell me how it taste now
And fuck Jesse Jackson cuz it aint about race now

Sometimes I think about my life, with my face down

Then I see my sons and put on that Kanye smile (my life, my life)

Damn, I know his momma proud

And since you helped me sell my Dream we can share my momma now

And like M.J.B., No More Drama now

Livin the Good Life , me and Common on common ground

I spit crack, and niggaz could drop it out of town

Got a Cris', call my estate, I'm never out of bounds

My life used to be empty like a glock without a round

Now my life full, like a chopper with a thousand rounds



[Chorus]



[The Game] (Lil Wayne)

Walk through the gates of hell, see my Impala parked in front

With the high beams on, me and the devil sharin chronic blunts

Listenin to the Chronic album, play it backwards

Shootin at pictures of Don Imus for target practice

My mind fucked up, so I cover it with a Raider hood

I'm from the city that made you motherfuckers afraid of Suge

{Compton, Compton} Made my grandmother pray for good

It never made her happy, but I bet that new Mercedes could (my life, my life)

Ain't no bars, but niggaz can't escape the hood

It took so many of my niggaz, that I should hate the hood

But it's real niggaz like me, that make the hood

Ridin slow in that Phantom just the way I should (my life, my life)

With the top back, in my Sox hat

I'm Paid in Full , the nigga Alpo couldn't stop that

Even if they brought the nigga 'Pac back

I'll still keep this motherfucker cocked back



[Chorus]



[Lil Wayne]

My life (my life, my life)

My life (my life, my life)

My life (my life, my life)


. . .


[Verse 1]

Kanye told me that Jesus Walks in '04
But I grew up around Impalas and drug lords
Welcome to Los Angeles, palm trees and drug stores
All we know is Roc's the president like Mt Rushmore
Fuck the police, they hop out and bust doors
I ain't going back to jail nigga thats what I flush for
My money or my glock?
Who do I trust more?
I dunno, it's the prolly the one that I touch more
Guess its the green, coz money motivate niggas
And my Rolex races, coz it hates niggas
I only used to sell 8's, like that Laker nigga
Now I'm moving 24's like I play at the Staples Center
You might miss The Game so nigga don't blink
My Phantom stand out like Frank Lucas' mink
So go ahead and think like Frank Lucas think
Somebody will find your brains all over the kitchen sink about...

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

[Verse 2]

Yeah
I get it, that Baby and Slim cash money
All the jury on your whole crew, thats my tax money
That Pablo, Escobar crack money
That LeBron first Nike contract money
That make it rain on my niggas throwing stack money
Stack it to the ceiling then call it Shaq money
That walk in the club, straight to the back money
Flava love, delicious sitting on my lap money
That rat money, niggas get clapped money
Air Force One's don't bend when I track money
Ooooh, I'm rich like Porter
Having alpo nightmares, whipping that water
Like McDonalds I was flipping them orders
In that '02 Porsche truck weaving through borders
I was still flipping quarters when I made my first mill
I'm a bottom dollar, 50 Cent ain't real

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

[Verse 3]

Somebody tell Snoop to pop open them briefcases
Order that Patron, tell em we three cases
Fuck a black card, you seen these green faces?
Look at my chest, now you seen Vegas
Treat my money like the Cristyle that we wasted
Coz I'm a money machine, I can remake it
You a fool thinking that Freddie could see Jason
I been iced-out, like who the fuck need Jacob
The Doc told me to be patient
But I want money like Dwight Howard
Next I'll be a free agent
I'm tryna make enough money so I can feed Asians
Half-Asians in the kitchen cooking in Louis V aprons
Word to Martha Stuart
If I can park a Buick
Then I can flip a greens truck, I got the heart to do it
Ball like the nigga Tony Parker do it
Speak no English but De Niro I talk it fluent

[Chorus]

(Money)
Dead presidents, big paper
(For the money)
Benjamins, skycrapers, my niggas get
(Money)
My bitches get
(Money)
Like the strippers get
From the block to the club I'll make it rain
(Money)
In California niggas die
(For the money)
From the South to New York them bullets fly for the
(Money)
Don't stop getting
(Money)
It don't matter where you from if you hustle motherfucker keep getting that
(Money)

Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper, boy
Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper, boy
Get, get, get, get, get-getcha paper, boy
Get, get, get, get, get, get, GET!

. . .


[Chorus]
California sunshine, in the summer time [4x]

Last year, Jazze Phe got stuck up inside the grand lux,
Most recent was 50 in Angola, that’s what’s up,
Any rapper could touched, any bitch could get fucked,
Under the California sun, impalas and big trucks,
They say Suge got knocked out, but don’t play that nigga cheap,
Cuz you’re body might wash up by the courts at Venice Beach,
Ain’t shit sweet but my Swisher, ain’t shit buzzin but my liquor,
Cali chickens got to the 80’s strip and come back a little thicker,
With more ass then Delicious, that’s my Flavor of Love,
We make it rain like Rainman, when he play with the glove,
I’m the king to you pawn niggas, punisher, spawn, niggas,
Playin in green, Paul Pierce to you Lebron niggas,
We them barbeque, front and back lawn niggas,
Summer Jam, throw your ass offstage Akon niggas,
We drink Kool Aid with the ice on your arm nigga,
Take that Champion hoody off in the California sunshine

[Chorus]

I’m in my drop top Phantom, down Wilshire boulevard,
We can’t find Biggies’ killers so we gave Diddy a star,
And I’m by far, Hollywood boulevard,
but I’m from a boulevard that tought ya’ll to shoot out of moving cars,
Remember, New Jersey driver’s like a East Coast menace,
And Belly was like the sequel without O-Dogg in it,
Give me a New York minute,
to show you Cali got more dead bodies then the Yankees got New York pennants,
Cuz we Dodgers and Impalas with the windows tinted,
I duck shots where Venus and Sarena used to play tennis,
And they never came back, like throwin a boomerang flat,
See me, I’m posted like a Cincinatti pitcher in the same hat,
It’s like a scene from a movie, when the screen fade black,
Niggas roll up on you, Now you stuck in that Harold and Cane trap,
If you slippin in Hollywood, and you get your chain snatched,
I know some niggas that know some niggas, Ill get your chain back.

[Chorus]

Niggas already know who had the marijuana first,
We birthed haze and sour diesel, I was there when the water burst,
Hell nah we don’t surf, We half way go to church,
Tell you the truth, shiit, right now I’m in the fuckin hearse,
And it ain’t my night to get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse,
It’ll be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
Where he been, I been there, that Lambo, I’m in there,
Hotter then the beginning of my career with 50, Dre and Em there,
Top off the Murcialago like Victoria’s Secret swim swear,
So listen, I’m so sincere, bout to work out like gym wear,
Murder MTV’s top ten, and tat my face with 10 tears,
That’s 10 funerals, 10 caskets,
10 3-piece Ralph Lauren suits, 10 motorbikes stopping traffic,
And 10 reasons why I got California hotter than acid,
Don’t you ever, ever leave me out of the top 10 you fuckin’ bastards
Blaow.

[Chorus]

. . .


[Intro]

Yeah
California - New York
Chictown know how I get down
MIA, ATL wassup
Houston, Frisco
Detroit get money just like LO
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: The Game]

You see that cherry-red Phantom on them big ass wheels
See I be playing with them cars I'm like a big ass kid
Crazy with that cap gun
So if we play Cops 'n' Robbers, I'll show you how to pop revolvers
Fit a cap too big, so it cover my eyes
That Lambo that ain't shit, just a public disguise
And that top model chick, she for the diamond lane
And I be driving all crazy coz my diamond chain is (bright)
As them Las Vegas lights
It be the same in California when I'm riding at night
And New York I be in midtown, up and down Broadway
Having meetings all day baby my future is (bright)
As LeBrons take off from anybody
Tyra Banks on my arm, we'll crash any party
Yeah, making it rain ain't got shit on me
The way I ball the fucking owner should come sit on me
Yeah I'm fresh out of jail, you shoulda knew I was back
Turn on the radio, its a wrap

[Verse 2: Ludacris]

Don't you hear it? That nigga named Luda
Slicker than Ricta ruler, whoop as like Lex Luger
My money long, your shit is shorter than Oompa-Loompas
And I'll Superman YOU and that ass like Lex Luther
????
I'll take you to meet your maker
Right next to the Staples Center I'll take you to see the Lakers (SWISH!)
On that Cali cush smoking like a muffler
So many red flags I could of sworn I was in Russia
I got the fame and the fortune, Compton is scorching
Get rid of bullets, my gun keeps having abortions
I ain't having it (Nope) see 'em in the dead zone
Fake film boys, there's more bass up in my headphones
Adjust your treble, I'm heavier than metal
My verses are hot as shit like I recorded with the devil
I'm on another level, they stuck on the elevator
And I'm about to blow this bitch, Game press the detanator
Fresh out of Georgia you heard I was back
Turn off the radio, its a wrap

[Verse 3: The Game]

See I come from the bottom, and they call me The Game
But I'm just happy that Beyonce know my name
I took that Dr Dre money and I bought me a chain
Then I bought me a house, then I bought me a Range
Then I bought me some pussy, then I bought me some brains
But I ain't buying that the best rappers is Kanye and Wayne
See, both of them niggaz spit, but y'all act like you don't hear me spit
Like selling 7 million records ain't the shit
I don't win no Grammy's, I'm too gangsta
And poppin Cristyle with Irv don't make me a Wanksta
See I'm California certified, my niggaz make the murder rise
Read my fan mail in jail, Buck told Curtis "bye"
So I'ma break it down for them niggaz in the South
Slow it down, put this rose phantom (grill in my mouth)
Throw the Prada slippers on when I walk in my house
P Diddy and Tommy Lee know what I'm talking about
See I'm fresh out of jail I know you heard I was back
Turn up the radio, its a wrap

. . .


[The Game]
Dre you musta been off the Hennessy when you did this one nigga

[Jellyroll]
Hard liquorrrrr
Hard liquorrrrr...

[Intro: Jellyroll]
Is there anymore, hard liquorrrrr
Make sure that it's mixed, and twisted
with a lit-tle bit of lemon juice
On ice, on ice, on ice, yeahhhhhhh

[The Game]
You know me I turn them 40 bottles upside down
Like niggaz with dead homies 'til it's empty like my fo' pound
Niggaz thinkin I'm drunk; reach for my N.W.A. chain
and get yo' ass beat with the pump
Tell security it's Game plus 50
And he probably get fucked up every night like Bobby dp Whitney
Fuck poppin Cristal, I got a bottle of Henny
And me and my nine stay together like Hardaway and Lil' Penny
I ain't here so you can ask about Em or Dre
I came to see some bitches shake they ass like Beyonc
So let me be Hov' for a minute, get up in your hoe for a minute
You could be my hoe for a minute
Like I'm Diddy, be J-Lo for a minute
From the windows to the wall, gettin low while I'm in it
All I gotta do is hit 'em with a Jay-Z line
like "you deserve to be my sunshine"

[Chorus: Jellyroll]
Out on the floor, she's sexyyyyy
Tell her where the af...ter party is
But make sure that you see her friends
Before, before, before, hmmmmmmmmm

[The Game]
I'll spend a hundred dollars take a bitch to the Hyatt
Then treat her like Busta, +Light Her Ass On Fire+
I'm a gangsta ma, I wanna see you wiggle your butt cheeks
Both hands around your ankles ma
All I wanna see is ass and titties
Shake it like they do in Magic City when T.I. in that muh'fucker
I'm like fifty P.I. in this muh'fucker
You seee the gold D's on that Porsche truck?
I'll show you how gangsters fuck
My forty-five to the back of you and both of your arms in handcuffs
Take a bottle of Cisco to the head
See how you like gettin fucked with a pistol to your head?
Tell your girls I fucked your brains out
We can do a menage-a-trois pull the whips and chains out
I tear that frame out, I ain't no stunt man
I pull that Range out... bitch~!

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I got 40's like the liquor sto'
Po' it on your weave like that bitch in the "G Thang" video
You look wet, let me help you out your Von Dutch and
I know you used to niggaz spinnin but tonight I'm fuckin
The truck stop, the rims spin, I know they hate me fuck 'em
It's killer Cali nigga haters come a dime a dozen
Load up shells then I get drunk pissy
This bottle of Hennessy got me wantin to fuck Missy
I'ma gangster I can turn the bitch out
Play with her pussy, then drop ecstasy in her Cristal
Sixty seconds later I'm kickin that bitch out
Then ride down the 'Shaw with the four-fifth out
Stop at the sto' that bitch emptied my Crist' out
Gimme fifty feet or I'll empty this clip out
Niggaz wanna know what this L.A. shit 'bout
Just visit when the Bloods and Crips out

[Outro] - same as [Intro]

. . .


(feat. Traci Nelson)

(Dodge this)

[Verse 1]
Catch me if you can I'm in those old school Barkley's
Back to the fence, puffin on that Bob Marley
Flow like oregano, nigga you already know
My competition's stiffer than Ronald Regan, let it go
Befo' you be a motherfuckin vegetable
You scrap niggas too animated like The Incredibles
Let this beef go around like the 26's
It's young Game of flame, welcome to the House of Pain
Nigga what about The Game?
Keep on playin boy, I'll hop out this fuckin Range
Look I ain't even ask for his fuckin chain
But he took it off like Vanessa-Del-Rio
Now I'm on my way to Rio
After I see my P.O.
She cool, she a Leo
She ain't trippin' off the weed smoke
So I'ma blow it like the Patriots
And throw my dub up, cus Dr. Dre made me rich

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

[Verse 2]
I wrote the block off, I talk that shit
Size 12 Bo Jacksons cause I walk that shit
There on Compton Blvd that's where I walk my pits
Biggie and 2Pac and they bark like this...
As I spark my splif
I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch
We be shootin like free throws, flying them desert Eagles
Sell dope to the Po' while we eat chili Fritos
From a gang banger to a CEO
Everything I do is big like the nigga Ceaser-Leo
Won't stop till I'm dead
Ain't gotta watch for the Feds
They ain't watchin me so here's a dome shot to the head
As I take a Patron shot to the head
And reminise about the shit the D.O.C. said
"Get money, get cars, get mine, get yours,
And keep your head up, like the Lambo doors"

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

[Verse 3]
Guess it's time to break the number 9 Jordan's in
Make a nigga mad when they been trying ta' floor the Benz
I'm doin 160 in the fast lane
Scott Storch in his Bugatti couldn't pass Game
I got it made like my last name
I'm gone just like my Aftermath Chain
Don't make me take you back to '96
Leanin' on that Datsun on the corner eating catfish
The Game, da-da-da Game spit 'dat shit
I'm controversial like the Afro pic with the black fist
Just ask the rapper that had to catch my last diss
I'm reckless and I ain't never crash whips
My pops wasn't around so this bastard
Bleed California from the cradle to the casket
And I won't stop ridin' for my coast
Niggas keep talkin 'bout my bread, we gonna make toast

[Chorus: The Game]
Where you from? (California)
What city? (Compton)
What you drive? (Impala)
What you smokin' on? (Chronic)
What you drinkin' on? (Patron)
What you sittin' on? (The throne)
Relax, make yourself at home

[Traci Nelson]
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton
Welcome to Compton

. . .


(feat. Ne-Yo)

[The Game]
see the bitchez be wantin a thug
and the ladies be wantin a gentleman
if you don't wanna fuck wit a thug
I sugguest you ride wit Ne-Yo

[Chorus: Ne-Yo]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off then please be off

[Verse One: The Game]
fuck this old nigga whistlin fo
outside my door apartment 5B
while I learn to cook my first ounce of raw
use to whistle while I work
she whistle while she twirk
bitch bounce that ass while you roll that blunt it can't hurt
while you wet come out of that skirt
bend over make it squirt
you can be my Superhead maybe we should try that first
let me whistle while you jerk
run my hand up ya shirt
if you wit it say you wit it let me hear my birdies churp (we like it!)

[bitch talkin spanish]

backshots make a bitch go bezerk
the game will make it hurt
T-Pain know ima flirt (and we love it!)
get ya ass up and fuck me then
I know you brought your girls
girl fuck ya friendz
matter of fact I wanna fuck ya friends
nah I aint mean it like dat, shit

[Chorus: Ne-Yo (The Game)]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
(can't be bought)
it's not a skill
(and can't be taught)
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off (go head bitch be off)

[Verse 2: Ne-Yo]
there's the door
swags a standard
no less no more
if u have none
let nezy know
cuz thatz all they checkin fo
flashin paper
player stop it
swag is in you not in ya pocket
try to buy
aint gone fly
cuz she want smooth
gentleman life
she likes the way that everything
I do it so fresh and so clean
my tone is free no need to scream
??

[Chorus: Ne-Yo (The Game)]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
(can't be bought)
it's not a skill
(and can't be taught)
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off (go head bitch be off)

[Verse 3: The Game]
can't be about C-notes
she know my pockets deep enough to see a deepthroat
but she won't see a dividend like 3 times ?
and thatz triple X rated cha know
my bitchez only want the weed some X and some blow
know not ask for the keys or no extra dough
I give em dick no dough
she give me shit she go
all she got waz a baby and a Game logo
that waz then this is now
lift it up break it down
I go in she come out
thatz when the pussy make the sound
it will never be the same
everytime when you fuck wit Game
silk sheets long dick hot tub Lil Wayne
like I aint never ran from no pussy and I damn sure bout to pick a day to start runnin
I said I aint never ran from no pussy and I damn sure bout pick a day to start runnin

[Chorus: Ne-Yo]
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off
this sex appeal
can't be bought
it's not a skill
can't be taught
this is a gentleman's affair if that's not you then please be off then please be off

. . .


(feat. Chrisette Michele)

Yeah, Scott Storch

[The Game]
Yo I'm hoping out a Phantom with a' iced out medallion
Stallions on both arms, rocks on both charms
My Dominican chick looking like Scarface sister
Red and curly and she wake me up early
Cus hustlers hit the block when police change shifts
New York, California different toilet, same shit
In Brooklyn I rock Timberlands
Still toast cinnamon
Been gangster way before he dropped many men
Liquor in my system, voice raspy who I sound like?
Don't ask me that's my nigga we classy
Him and Montega Jada our style superior to haters
You can catch me in the latest Marvin Gaters
Ralph Lauren suit tape it up fly cause I'm papered up
Why these niggas keep hating on my Phantom
I be out in Atlanta and body tapping I'm probably strapped
Toast it up niggas

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

[The Game]
Now who the fuck want war with the human gun store?
Gangsta rap is where I live just knock on the front door
Niggas stunt more than Jackie Chan
What the fuck them faggots saying?
Nothing when I walk in the club with the gat in hand
Take 'em back to '94 shooing out a Astro van
Banging was the blueprint money was the master plan
Duffel bag full of Grants and Franklins
Rob niggas take they money shoot straight to the bank then
Head to the barbershop to get chopped up
Hearing war stories who dead and who locked up
Who snitching, who pitching and who knocked up
Fuck niggas in Black Wall Street I trust
Black hoodies and black Asics standing on the pavement
Hustlers don't sleep nigga we work the grave shift
Fuck that long money nigga get paid quick
And don't save shit

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

Lord knows that money don't matter
Lord knows that status is badder
Lord knows about the hood I live in
He's taking away but he's giving
Now don't give me these cars
Don't give me these mansions
Don't hate me just let me ride, Lord just give me light

[The Game]
I don't hate Mobb Deep or M.O.P
That was a phase I was caught up in the beef like a rat in a maze
And my legacy will never be that of a hater
Lyrical rhyme slayer wack niggas say your prayers
It's the return of Gandhi
Criminal minded city behind me
Put it on my face to remind me
Of all the shit I been through my physical presence, my pen too nice
My first album sent you life
I should of put down the mic when Rakim left Dre
No cleanup hitter so I was stranded on second base
I had to steal third motherfucker that's my word
There's some Queens niggas try to put me back on the curb
I was ultimate warrior to you bully ass niggas
I will come through the hood with the fully axe niggas
Like Snoop or Suge I'm in the coupe I'm good
Mothafuckas make way

[Chorus: Chrisette Michelle]
All my hoods on the real dark side of the track
No sunny sky's just really black
We live real down here, Lord let us live
No playing around here, Lord let us live
Don't hate my hood just hate my shine
We coming out we on our grind
We live real down here, Lord let us live
We coming outta here, Lord let us live

[The Game]
Is that Michelle Chrisette
Black Wall, Coollie High, Scott Storch, let's ride
'08 to infinity
California, New York
Scott Storch, Scott Storch...

. . .


(feat. Raheem DeVaughn)

[Chorus: Raheem DeVaugh]
When I touchdown
That california feel is in the atmoshpere uh
You know [x3] ahhh
When I touchdown
It's wall to wall with sexy ladies up in here
Touch-down

[Verse 1: The Game]
Kick the [? ] and let's talk (sex)
Let me whisper in your ear how you like your (sex)
Should I unzip your (dress)
Step on out girl and tell me what's (next)
Do you love (yes)
Do you want me (yes)
Than let me rub this oil all on your (flesh)
Take you out of them vickies make you forgot about your (ex)
Let me spray this whip cream on your (chest)
I go downtown you go downtown (ex)
Unstrap my bulletproof (vest)
Take 2 steps back and just (flex)
And by now you gotta be [? ]
Like the ocean after the sun (sets)
It's over climb up on my (chest)
I wore that ass out girl just (rest)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Raheem DeVaugh]
When I step off in the club you know
It's going down here tonight
[? ]
Let me how you feel
Girl is it real
Girl just make sure you understand
When I put this in your hand
It's so real so real
Candy rain drikling down your window
Close the curtains and take off your clothes
I make you say OH Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh when I touch

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: The Game]
There she go again talking all that (jazz)
Girl stop playing I'd tap that (ass)
We go real slow or do it (fast)
Just like I thought you ran out of (gas)
And girl you like the new S(class)
Every time I look at you I want to (smash)
Get inside you and (smash)
You drive me crazy girl I can just (crash)
Jump in your pool and (splash)
Than slow it down like a hour (glass)
Turn around girl look at that (ass)
Beautiful as a Eli Manning (pass)
Round 2 let's grow some (grass)
Get high think about and (pass)
I want to try you on let me pop your (tags)
You so fly I wanna check your [? ]
[Chorus]

. . .


(feat. Common)

[Verse 1: Common]
I spent my day so,
First I pray yo, then I lay low, looking for the halo
Or more yayo, my lil' angel, reminded me to stay playful
Faitful walks I take in the woods,
Thinkin what's good, things that I can't change I should
Things I can't, need to be understood
Th-this is the bliss, I used to drift from the hood
For a second at least, I'm ressurectin the peace
Pipes the Indians used to like, we called it chief, right
Stepping on the leafs right, to reach heights
Th-th-th-that I never seen, it's so so evergreen
Some use it for medicine, or to write better things
I was in amsterdam, man, bike pedaling
To the nature spot, to taste the flavors they got
My eyes drop, I like it alot... yeah, an angel

[Chorus:]
I wanna turn up the sound, and spread my wings because I'm riding with my (angel)
Going through the city of the Chi, make me feel like I'm in the city of (angels)
Oooh, I wanna fly, fly away with my (angel)
She takes me high, she will always be my (angel)

[Verse 2: The Game]
Th-the way that I rhyme, loc, is mine
Like the first time you heard Mary J and you were standing in line
To purchase tickets to see her blow like Chicago wind
And I'm ridin with Common looking for Chicago zen
And like Chicago winds, I was once a street disciple
Rockin every jordan shoe, Nike put out by Michael
That made me feel like I could fly, sometimes I wanted to die
Prolly cause the angel dust was xxxxxx with my third eye
So I start hip hop and I understand why Common used to love her
She got me open so I even had, had
But I used the rubber, cause she was married to Rakim
So I bought me a gold chain, pretendin that I was him
So I can get close to the girl I loved the most
But she left Cali and went on tour with Ne-Yo and Ghost
Big gave her one more chance, and she took Big down
I should've knew it, shot G, and 'Pac told ya she get around

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: The Game]
(Fly away, fly away)
My love for her's not about jewelry or cars
I love her cause she love me, just for who I are
Who I is, who I am, resembles the rims on the Lam'
I shine like Shyne when Barington Levy was sayin
Diddly Whoa!
I got love for the streets, peace to New York and every hood in the East
Before I was ducking cops, gunshots, I used to be an LA Dodger, now I'm a (angel)
From the city of lost souls, Impalas and polished gold
Between the car, and the rims, we got alot of chrome
Your hood not alone, they knockin, we not at home
And when they bust in, we not Cesar, but got it wrong
Cause they tryna wire phones, I'm talkin Verizon phones
The ones they put wires on, they got us on tap
But I put wires on, my Bentley, in fact
I spit it through the wires on a Kanye track

[Chorus]

[Outro: Common]
Yeah, it's The Game and Common
Spread your wings, follow your dreams
Things will be so serene, L-A and the Chi as a team
Yeah, angel supreme, yeah, keep on
Yeah, it's for the world boy, we do it forever, yeah

. . .


(feat. LaToya Williams)

[Verse 1:]
Picture me rollin in that bmdub
Headed to the club
Fresh out the tyson fight
Beamer all rimmed up
Shinin with the big homie five car caravan
Ridin shotgun put that chronic smoke in the air
Me against the world is what I told my foes
So it's me against the world til I poke them hos
Leanin out the window
Flickin ashes off the indo
Throwin up westside I see one of my kinfolk
Put that blunt closer to my mouth cause only she knows
I'm feelin bad about that nigga we stomped out in the casino
But fuck it it's deathrow
The big homie never told me that my next blow would be my fuckin death blow
Tell kadada I'm not ready I ain't even let my momma know
I ain't got no kids I'm only 24
Before I could let the smoke out niggas let 20 go
The 13 that hit the car went through the passenger door

[Chorus: Latoya Williams]
Never can say goodbye
Never can say goodbye to my friends [x4]

[Verse 2:]
I love it when they call me big poppa
I only smoke blunts if they rolled propa
Look I gots ta catch the first thing smokin the cali
And hit one of my bitches in the valley
Gotta call my nigga sean
Tell him reserve the don
Tell him to get the chron and the teflon
I think they trippin off the homie gettin shot
But god bless his soul lord knows it wasn't pop or the mafia
Kim tell cease get the fuckin truck
We bout to hit the Wolersheim district get fucked up
Pop bad bottles son twist up the phillies
I'm thinkin bout tiana these niggas is lookin silly
If this was brooklyn I would ump the 9 milli
But fuck it we to the truck roll a dutch we outta phillies
Hop in the front seat of that dark green suburban
Heard another car swerven
Gun shots closed my curtains
Biggie

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
Layin in this hospital bed with bronchitus I can't talk
Walked myself in and all of a sudden I can't walk
Ivs in my arm my wife tomika at my legs
Ruthless I mean records we got married on my death bed
I can hear jerry heller in the hall
But I could'ntcube and dr. dre no more at all
Through all the bullshit them niggas were my dogs
Niggas with atitude spray painted on the walls
I'm flatlinin it's bad timin
Straight outta compton the king of gangsta raps dyin
Cause of death the aids virus
Conspiricy I guess the government just hates violence
They thought my group influenced the L.A. riots
Woulda been here to see my kids grow if I stayed quiet
Took 12 years for a real nigga to break silence
Easy I had to let em know
U could catch me cruisin down the street in my 64

. . .


[Verse 1:]
Yeah... Comin' fresh out that Pyrex pot,
Black Air Force 2's and the White Sox...
Fitted on my forehead, try me, go head.
I'll bring out the polka dots, put Guame on your forehead.
Yeah, it's the new king of everything,
And bitches don't say no to me, I'm like a wedding ring.
Maybe it's how I pour that Patron,
Maybe it's how I smell a pair of Silver Cologne.
Maybe it's how I write shit when I'm in the zone,
And I'm sick of blow jobs, bitch leave me alone.
And tell Dr. Dre to pick up a phone,
Before I climb through his window like "Nigga I'm Home".
Runnin' the rock like OJ, nigga it's a throwback,
Fuck a Aston Martin, show me where the stove at.
Get a jar, some baking soda, nigga hold that,
The world is my grandma's kitchen, time to cook crack.

[Chorus:]
The Dope Boys in the building.
What's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
What's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
Yeah? The Dope Boys in the building.

[Verse 2:]
You couldn't smell that crack comin' out that motherfucking Porsche truck.
I stop traffic with the rims that I'm sittin' on.
Them ain't high beams, bitch my wrist is on.
The same shit that Ludacris is on.
Disturbing the peace if my stash missing stones.
Yeah, count that work like a paycheck,
Niggas couldn't play The Game in a tapedeck.
A boss never touch work if it ain't taped yet.
That's how you get fucked, I practice safe sex,
And I take ya boy Curtis bitch with my tongue,
Lick lick lick like Shawna and have her sprung.
Show her my anaconda and have her sprung,
And put it all in her stomach and just UHH!

[Chorus:]
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, What's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
New York, what's up? LA, what's up? The Dope Boys, The Dope Boys.
Chi-Town What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Detroit, What's up? ATL, what's up? The Dope Boys.
MIA what's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up?

[Verse 3:]
So roll that coke white carpet to the hood.
It's the Dope Boys reunion, the dress code's strictly,
White tee, Air Force 1's and some Dickies.
I'm from the city where the skinny niggas die.
Only birds and Nextels chirp in the sky.
And we ride for the letters on our fitted cap,
Niggas hit the stash, get a strap, and go get it back!
That's for the gangstas, the hustlas, the ballas,
From Downtown LA to Uptown Harlem.
And D-Boy money ain't rain and it's stormin'.
So stop the music when the Champagne pouring.
And hold the glasses high,
And when a nigga ask you why, you tell 'em...

[Chorus:]
The Dope Boys in the building.
What's up? The Dope Boys. What's up? The Dope Boys.
What's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up? The Dope Boys. I'm back! The Dope Boys.
I'm back! The Dope Boys in the building.
Yeah, what's up? The Dope Boys. Nigga what's up? The Dope Boys.
Motherfucker what's up? The Dope Boys in the building.
Tell 'em I'm back! The Dope Boys. Cause I'm back! The Dope Boys.
It's a wrap! The Dope Boys in the building.

The Dope Boys, The Dope Boys.
The Dope Boys in the building.

The Dope Boys, The Dope Boys.

Yeah, what's up? What's up?

Hahaha, yeah,

The King is back!

. . .


(feat. Keyshia Cole)

[Hook:]
See, ever since the day I got the chance to make a change,
I've been in this game, it's a new day, and I'm making it known cause, I just want the world to know, I'm paying my dues, and I got the utmost, I just wanna let you know, I'm paying homage cause you've paved the way for me, Yeah.

[Verse 1:]
I swear to God, It feel like every day is my birthday, let the top down California's my birthplace. So I'm a take you there like Big took niggas to New York, usually had us feeling like we was from New York, And that's real shit blazed the Philly, it's summertime shout out to Will Smith, cause who didn't wanna be the fresh prince flat top gold chain and some fresh kicks? My Nigga Nas told me money make the world go round, and Uncle Luke showed me how to make my girl go down. I've been around HIP HOP since '85, she had her ups and downs but she stayed alive. I used to think LL stood for Love LA, He from queens how the fuck he put that with Cool J? Red Kangol hat, red sweatsuit to match, red Adidas, Nigga Game is back

[Hook:]
And ever since the day I got the chance to make a change,
I've been in this game, it's a new day, and I'm making it known cause, I just want the world to know, I'm paying my dues, and I got the utmost, I just wanna let you know, I'm paying homage cause you've paved the way for me, Yeah.

[Verse 2:]
Public Enemy and NWA is on my boombox had to say, today was a good day, had the hood buzzing, Ice Cube my favorite rapper, ya'll niggas can't tell me nothin. Everybody's first bootleg was Boyz n the Hood, whoever thought Gangsta Rap would make noise in the hood, when the cars ride by with the boomin system, two door Mustang and the roof was missing. Every girl at ya school had the new extensions even gangstas was dancing like New Edition. Cause the house parties stayed rockin all night, niggas came through and shot it up but it was alright, Cause after the cops left it was a party then, you down with OPP then bring Naughty in. They say it never rain in southern California, Tony Toni lied. Sit back, watch Game throw his money in the sky.

[Hook:]
And ever since the day I got the chance to make a change,
I've been in this game, it's a new day, and I'm making it known cause, I just want the world to know, I'm paying my dues, and I got the utmost, I just wanna let you know, I'm paying homage cause you've paved the way for me, Yeah.

[Verse 3:]
Cash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M get the money, in the back, I relax with all the hunnies. DJ bring it back, let it go, mix it in with Black Rob, make em say WHOA. Every thing full circle, Game living major, girl(')s on my hip like a Skytel pager now I'm on the top, let the champagne pop, throw ya hands in the sky cause The Game don't stop. Just a little more change, gotta Benz and the Range, every rap metaphor always ends in my name: the Cool Hercs, DJ Red Alerts, before I was born they was talking bout The Game. Ask a Jay-Z Fan bout Big Daddy Kane; don't know em, Game gonna show em, just like they showed me, my lyrics is O.G. When it's all said and done you niggas gon' quote me.

[Hook:]
And ever since the day I got the chance to make a change,
I've been in this game, it's a new day, and I'm making it known cause, I just want the world to know, I'm paying my dues, and I got the utmost, I just wanna let you know, I'm paying homage cause you've paved the way for me, Yeah.

See, Mary J. I want you to understand you paved the way (for me)
I'm givin homage (to you)

. . .


(feat. Nas)

[Sample: from "Memoirs Of The Traveler" by the Jaggerz]

[The Game:]
Second floor my hotel I'm rollin up bout to blaze
And zone out to this frankie beverly and mayes
As our days about to pass and them days in the past
He set my mind free so my mind free at last
So much that I don't even drink from a f**kin glass
Id rather find the first fountain I can and do it fast
Didn't understand a dream of a king now do the math
Coincidentally on your birthdays I ditched the class
Cause the younger me, dumber me was chasin the cash
Chasin the ass, low life with his face in the grass
Ridin home from school in front of the bus
Not even thinking bout how rosa parks done it for us
How she stayed behind bars and she done it for us
And she stayed behind bars till she won it for us
Sometimes I wanna give up or at least take a break
That's when I close my eyes and see coretta scotts face

Cause sometimes I wanna give up or at least take a break
That's when I close my eyes and see coretta scotts face? .

[Sample]

[Nas:]
Uh
Word up game
Standing at the pue panoramic view of the seating
Greeting, I've been meaning to do me some letter reading, to the king
He forever breathing your messages never leaving
Some of your homies, phonies I should say it when I see them
Them sleazy bastards, some greedy pastors, jerks
Some should never be allowed in ebenezer baptist church, in atlanta
Some people be patient I know this ghetto grammar
But I'm a street dude normally I just speak rude
Martin luther, the martyr, the trooper, hate killed him
Noble peace prize winner they duplicate the feelin
As a kid I ain't relate really, I was sayin dreams speech jokingly
Till your world awoken me
First I thought your were passive, soft one who xxx kissed
I was young to be honest, I was feelin mohamed
I ain't even know the strength you had to have to march
You was more than just talk you were the first real braveheart
We miss you
Feels like king be in me sometimes?

[Sample]

[The Game:]
The word nigger is nothing like nigga
Don't sound xxxx alike like game like jigga
One came before the other like aim and pull the trigga
One is slang for my brotha, one is hang and take a picture
The rope ain't tight enough, he still alive go fix it
Pour some gasoline on him, call his daughters black xxxxxxx
Make him pick cotton, while they momma clean up the kitchen
The same cotton in white tees that's the cotton they was pickin
If dr. king marched today would bill gates march?
I know obama would but would hillary take part?
Great minds think great thoughts
The pictures I paint make the mona lisa look like fake art
I feel the pain of nelson mandela
Cause when it rains it pours I need rihannas umbrella
For coretta scotts tear drops
When she got the phone call that the future just took a f**kin head shot

I wonder why jesse jackson didn't catch him before his body dropped
Would he give me the answer? probably not

[Sample]

. . .

LAX Outro

[No lyrics]

. . .


[Intro]
That T.M. shit, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!

[Chorus: unknown singer (The Game)]
I don't care that you lookin like Beyonce on her best day
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your high heels on and your body feel warm but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your hair did right and your panties too tight but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
Could be another night, girl, but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)

[The Game]
I'm tired of playin your games, you pissin me off
I'm watchin LeBron so holla when this shit go off
You say I be trippin but really it's you that be gone
Always bringin up Tanisha be givin me dome
I ain't tryin to hear that, I'm just tryin to chill
So chill, like Chamillionaire or Mike Jones grill
All in front of my flat screen, True Religion black jeans
Dancin like Ciara, I ain't Bow Wow or 50
Tryin to get me but I back out, I could blow your back out
Lay you down, put it in the hole, like Stackhouse
We used to hit midtown, throwin all them stacks out
Run through the Louis Vuitton store and clean the racks out
Used to feel good, when I watch your Porsche back out
You bought Keyshia Cole album, now you tryin to act out
Flippin like a Sidekick, tell me what is that 'bout?
You can't take the heat, get the fuck up out of Shaq house
Black out

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Bitch, I'm rollin 21's and over
Not the club, the dubs on that platinum Range Rover
My neck's so iced out, my wrists so shined up
I make hoes line up, see a pole climb up
Brown sugar or light skin, black or white skin
If she could drop it low then she could be my night friend
Or my one night stand, if she got a nice tan
Before I leave I cut the light off of your nightstand
Back to the house, my girl wanna have real sex
Nah, I keep my kids like Britney Spears' ex
Take her back to the future, I ain't even here yet
And that line was fly, bitch I'm a Leer jet

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Stop playin girl, stop playin
Stop playin girl, stop playin!
Stop playin girl, stop playin
I said stop playin, you better stop playin
'Fore I break you off like a Kit Kat, you know I wanna hit that
Banana split that, but a real nigga had to sit back
Cause that's what we do, when girls be with the chit-chat
Every mornin on "The View", them girls be with the chit-chat
Enough with all the riff-raff, let me see your cat walk
I'm old school, Garfield, I can make your cat talk
But I'm a gangsta, so I'ma back off
Keyshia and DMX, I'll leave yo' ass with that thought
For real

[Chorus]

[Outro]
That T.M. shit, uh-huh, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!

. . .


Cool & Dre
Back on the motherfuckin' Westside,
L.A.X niggas... yeahhh...

Y'all know who the fuck I am...

I'm free as a motherfuckin' bird I swear,
Disappear in thin air, there go Game, nigga where?
Posted on the block in them black Airs,
In that all black Phantom, hug the block like a bear,
Yeah, that V12 is roarin',
Flyin' through the city with the pedal to the floor then -
I put them 26 inches on the curb, tell the hood I'm back,
Give me a corner - let me serve,
Swerve, I'm still dope that's my word,
All I did was the switch the kitchens,
Did some tracks on the birds...
Irv - Gotti know I'm a murderer,
Half these niggas beefin' with me,
I never heard of them,
If I was the old me I would murda them
Matter fact, if I was the old me - I would Curtis them,
Courtesy of my Smith & Wesson,
I kill tracks like aids, nigga get infected,

The whole world been waitin' on him,
Here I come, droptop Phantom,
I'm skatin' on 'em, look around,
All the bitch niggas hatin' on him,
Mad cause I'm Chronic 2008tin' on them,
Big cars, big wheels, big chains,
Big pimpin', big money,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams...

I get money like Junior Mafia used to,
On my way to school 10.000 in my FUBU,
Lunchtime I was sellin' behind the bungalows,
Baggin' up rocks the size of melons,
That's when the fiends start tellin' you can
Catch 'em on the couch everyday at 4 o'clock,
Like Ellen!
Prime-time nigga, it's my time nigga,
Jacob ain't got shit to do with my shine nigga!
Cause when the sun come up - from behind the sea,
Niggas see me behind the B,
Ent. don't stand for entertainment,
Stands for 0 to 60, anybody see where Game went?
To the hood, parked crooked behind that chained fence,
And I'm going down behind my dogs, but I ain't Vick!
Tell me one album I put out that ain't sick?
No I'm not the Doctor, but I produce the same shit!

The whole world been waitin' on him,
Here I come, droptop Phantom,
I'm skatin' on 'em, look around,
All the bitch niggas hatin' on him,
Mad cause I'm Chronic 2008tin' on them,
Big cars, big wheels, big chains,
Big pimpin', big money,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams...

Big cars, big wheels, big chains,
Big pimpin', big money,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams, Dreams,
Big Dreams... Dreams...

Yo Jay what it do nigga?
I done rocked enough fellas to be you nigga,
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas,
I make you "Holla, Holla", I Ja Rule niggas!
The lion's in the room, waddup Fat Joe?
I'm Curtis' kryptonite and the nigga Joey Crack know,
Whoever said "Game Over" musta had a hangover,
Get money, my driveway sponsered by Range Rover,
I got blood diamonds straight outta Angola,
Wave my red rag in the air, signal Lil' Wayne over,
Yeah, that's when the Crys start poppin',
The pills start droppin' and the haters start watchin',
The DJ starts spinnin', the panties get the droppin' -
For album number three, it goin' platinum's not an option,
I'm back with Cool & Dre a.k.a. the monsters
And I got one word for you motherfuckers -
COMPTON!

The whole world been waitin' on him,
Here I come, droptop Phantom,
I'm skatin' on 'em, look around,
All the bitch niggas hatin' on him,
Mad cause I'm Chronic 2008tin' on them,
Big cars, big wheels, big chains,
Big pimpin', big...

. . .


(feat. Ne-Yo)

[Ne-Yo:]
Mmmmmm, ohhohhh, Hey!

[The Game:]
Picture me and my gangsta girl, riding with the top back.
Bangin Ne-Yo, my neck freeyo, my sox hat,
Tilted to the side like you know I get my grind on.
Get my shine on.
Jewelry Black in all rhinestones.
Rims spinning like a globe, on these low pros.
Do it big cause I'm supposed to floss,
And that's the reason she break me off.
Cause I'm gangsta,
And I'm ridin with...

[Ne-Yo:]
Ne-Yo, it's a thug and a gentleman.
Rollin like a boss through,
No matter the cost too,
Kept tryin to brag, what? money not a issue.
Don't let your girl see us.
That might make her diss you.
Cause if she roll with us,
She won't even miss you.

[The Game:]
Pop rubber bands when I throw a stack,
Before it hit the ground she throw it back.
When I make it rain that's chump change,
That pay for the 26 on my range range range drive drive,
Take the wheel while I roll and slide,
Climb over to the passenger side and freeze.

[Ne-Yo:]
And once again it's on,
You should take a picture with your camera phone.
Playa she not comin home,
And if I'm on her screen saver, that, that mean later we gone.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture
She gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me.

[The Game:]
If you don't know by now baby I'm a star,
Look at my face,
Look at my car,
Look at my waist then look at my scars.
Look out da window see where we are.
In my phantom, in my rover, bangin...

[Ne-Yo:]
Ne-Yo, it's a thug and a gentleman.
She ain't never rolled in a car with da suicide,
Girl when it's you and I, they commitin suicide.
All of them want, my girl.
Cause she pretty and thick in the thighs.
Homie don't mastermind,
Do a song with suicide.

[The Game:]
She call me Jay, I call her B,
We gettin married, to the streets.
I'm chasin money, she chasin me.
I'm right where I wanna be,
With da B on my bentley,
Da horse on my lambo,
Crown on my cadalac,
Checks on my air max.
Haters, better fall back,
Before I put somin in your ball cap.
That's my chick, I got her back like a bra strap.
Cause she fine and she cute,
She think she all that, and she all that.
That's my girl that's my world,

[Ne-Yo:]
And once again it's on,
You should take a picture with your camera phone.
Playa she not comin home,
And if I'm on her screen saver, that, that mean later we gone.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture
She gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me.

Game can you take a picture?
Ne-Yo can you take a picture?
We've been waitin all night, just to take a picture with you.
Game can you take a picture?
Ne-Yo can you take a picture?
We've been waitin all night, just to take a picture with you.

[The Game:]
Grab da wheel take control,
And let your hair blow inside my lambo.
Pull out ya phone, picture that.
Take it home let ya man know I'm hitin that.
While I'm hitin that,
She send it back,
She drop it low,
We about to blow.
Me and N-E-dash-Y-O yo girl know.
She so ciara,
So eve,
So mariah,
So Be,
She so Trina,
I'm R kelly,
She remind me of my goldies.
I'm cooly high, I'm cochi,
She a 34 D, I'm so pleased.
I'm so so def, she so janet,
I'm JD and she full of me.
In da H2 we fold deep through the NYC off no sleep.
I hate to drive but I break it wide,
When I'm ridin with my shawty.
I'd kidnap her and neva take her home,
Ridin off bangin ne-yo sittin on chrome,
In that mazaradi, see the paparazi,
They (flick flick flick)... she gone.

[Ne-Yo:]
And once again it's on,
You should take a picture with your camera phone.
Playa she not comin home,
And if I'm on her screen saver, that, that mean later we gone.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture,
She gonna roll with me.
If I let her take a picture
She gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me,
Gonna roll with me.

Woooahhohh

. . .


[Intro]

Hey yo Irv
(What) the fuck is wrong with these niggaz man?
Talking about I ain't a fucking MC
I been at this shit for 7 years nigga
8 times platinum nigga
2 Bentley's, 1 Lambo and 3 houses later motherfucker wassup

[Verse 1]

Nah this ain't no fucking Dre beat, I got this from Irv Gotti
Game back on this shit, I'm enemies with er'body
Game cook crack, transform to Yayo
The new Suge Knight nigga, minus the K.O.
I keep it ? like Mariah i'm so fire
When I step in the club, get low like Flo Rida
Coz I'm a pimp, you can tell by the limp
When I st-st-st-step inside the 26 inch
You see my rims? They bigger than Bow Wow
Get money fuck bitches, that's what I'm about now
The Phantom, ugly, The Bentley, retarded
The kicks still Chuck Taylor's, the jacket is a Starter
I beg your pardon nigga we can get it started
If you ain't Nas or the nigga on the third Carter
My happy face is Kenneth Supreme's mugshot
When its going down who gon stop the blood clot

[Chorus]

Throw your hands up it's that gangsta shit (wassup)
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit (wassup)
(Go 'head) Go 'head and hate on my clique
Got a couple words for you niggaz "suck my dick"
You strapped (Thats right)
Gangbang (for life)
Little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit

[Verse 2]

Nigga I'm a throwback, you already know that
Got swag and I'm street, picture the nigga Hov strapped
And it's the Roc, right in my fucking sock
Die for my chain, why? So I can go fuck with 'Pac
Before I go, shoot it out with the cops
Hit one for Sean Bell then bleed on the block, yeah
Like Big did, I play with toys like a Big kid
Got a snub nose call it Big Tig
You art not fuck with Game you crazy
And this boss coming straight outta Compton bay-by
My 16's is me, you know what I mean
Headed to the airport, my flow flying in from Queens
Accompanied by my bitch, flying in with the things
My Shawty Is A 10, that's that singer nigga Dream
The life of a gangsta in Cali is too short
So I might as well find me a burrow in New York

[Chorus]

Throw your hands up it's that gangsta shit
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit
(Go 'head) Go 'head and hate on my clique
Got a couple words for you niggaz "suck my dick"
You strapped (thats right)
Gangbang (for life)
Little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit

[Verse 3]

Man you know I don't give a fuck and I don't give a shit
Any drama i'm locked on like a red nose Pitt
Shooting them cap guns with the red nose tips
Have some Cali niggas come out and dead those strips
(Don't) give a fuck if you tough nigga, or you buff nigga
My .45 weigh 3 pounds and it'll snuff niggas
Hop out the trunk, where the guns so long
That the bullets jump out, and that's what's going on
What the fuck can I say? I grew up a bastard
Got sick of the Impala so I threw up an Aston
I pop big shit, and I keep my wrist lit
My entourage shine like the diamond district
I got a Rolex, a real big Rolex
With so many rocks, the africans is tryna protest
Bully of the block, why? Coz they got me top 5
Is four niggas better than me? Nigga stop lying

[Chorus]

Throw your hands up it's that gangsta shit
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit
(Go 'head) Go 'head and hate on my clique
Got a couple words for you niggaz "suck my dick"
You strapped (thats right)
Gangbang (for life)
Little drama (that's life)
Hit 'em up (nice)
It's that gangsta shit
All the homies going crazy when they bump my shit

[Outro]

Newz, niggas better know what the fuck they dealing with
When they dealing with the fuck they dealing with
You dealing with a fucking animal man
Gotti'll tell you nigga, both the Gotti's nigga
Nigga bring John Gotti back too nigga he'll tell you nigga
I'm gangsta nigga
It was Murder Inc. before anything man
Black Wall Street-Murder Inc. man
Before it was Dr Dre it was Irv Gotti nigga
When I was running around with P Diddy in Atlanta nigga, slapping asses nigga
Marijuana knows what it is nigga
Mixed bitches all up in the Hyatt on Peace Street nigga
Been getting money nigga 7 years strong nigga
2 platinum albums nigga, bout to be 3
Hey nigga. Thats a motherfucking hip hop of Nazi
Drop, BEATS!

. . .


Buenos dias maricons... vamonos!

[Verse 1:]
Picture me stuck in the mind of a loco matador bout to comit suicide behind that project door, the vida loca mi familia heres the coka! don't xxxx around with no snitch mayates I got they xxxxx xxx in check with the cueta in your cabeza that spanish maid bout to come and clean that xxxx mess up gansgter! it ain't bout where you from it's about where u wear your gun let them come see I never told dre I was disconnected (viva mexico!) get your ribs disected, es muy pandiyero en my blanco camero fill this buck shot in your soul with the spearow the devil con permiso diablo inside the lamborginia escobar pablo get it from durango send them to chicago them eses don't xxxx around with niggas see I know!

[Chorus:]
Voy a vivir aqui, voy a nacer aqui, asta la muerte
Aqui, asta la muerte
Voy a vivir aqui voy a nacer aqui, asta la muerte
Aqui, asta la muerte
Mi amor...

[Verse 2:]
Ven aqui mami pass the nigga a corona yo soy el reggea xxxxxxx california tu eres muy bonita te estrano mi senorita! mira este negro, vicente fernandez mi 45. I need u to understand this california ain't no country for old man muy grande sangre riddin on chrome rims translation... (?)
Mirando en la esquina st louises am a bout to lose it homes! espera escribo los angeles en mi cara time to bring bak my old impala keep the 40 in the dash for them eric estrada tu got pajaros holla cause we pitch white balls like...

[Chorus:]
Voy a vivir aqui, voy a nacer aqui, asta la muerte
Aqui, asta la muerte
Voy a vivir aqui voy a nacer aqui, asta la muerte
Aqui, asta la muerte
Mi amor...

Spanihs girl
Estupido pendejo idiota te odio por que no me quisiste!?
You know I love you I ain't doing nothing(the game)
Pendejo estupido olvidate de mi por que no me quisiste? no se(the game)
Te odio pendejo estupido
Te estrano(the game)
Perro imbecil!

[Verse 3:]
This is my city I'm to california what new york is to diddy and compton is my casa, ay dios miyo mi pecho, frio, drug dealer for life take me to the kilos muy mota mixt in with the coka spanish thing riddin shotgun she loca (callate la boca) she my el pollo loca and the day I die she know to bury me a roja

[Chorus:]
Voy a vivir aqui, voy a nacer aqui asta la muerte
Aqui asta la muerte
Voy a vivir aqui voy a nacer aqui asta la muerte
Aqui asta la muerte
Mi amor...

. . .


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