The Game - Put it in the air

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Put it in the air The Game

[Sky] Whoīs hot, whoīs not; I been the hottest thing on the West, ever since the death of Tupac Kept my crack in clear capsules with blue tops And itīs still nothin for me to get you shot You see him? Yup, the same olī pimp Sky baller, and ainīt nuttin changed but my limp Natural born player, mine not a lame or a simp The world is mine, you see my name on a blimp Stay Dolce Gabbanaīd down, play the Bahamas now Youse a donkey, Iīma piranha clown I keep thick bread, in the pockets of my sweats While Iīm drivin I get head in the cockpit of my īVette And my game is sharp as a mosquitoīs needle As far as the charts, young S beīs the Beatles Purple haze smoke in the urr, blow in the wind The rims right there when I stop they still go and they spin I can teach you how to stunt boy, and pop that trunk boy Them city slickers ainīt never been punks boy So fix your ice grill, and your mean mug Unless you wanna feel a few M-16 slugs [Chorus 2X: The Game] Nigga you got a blunt then put it in the air Nigga you got a gun then put it in the air Nigga you from a gang then put in in the air Play with Killa Cali if you want, muhīfuckers [The Game] I ainīt got no time for fake ones, so donīt think for a second I wonīt pull this 45 and put your stomach where your neck is If I tell you kiss the sky better respect it Or get yoī ass hog-tied, butt-ass naked Iīm doin this for Eazy, like it or not I wouldnīt even be rappin if Eric Wright wouldnīta dropped I love this shit, I work and Iīm good I ainīt on corner fuckers but Iīm still in the hood Iīm poised to go platinum, thatīs what the magazines sayin Fuck The Source, I got my own magazines man I call her Shirley, she got a 32 round clip And she love hangin out witīchu girlies Iīm like them Philly nigs that come through "Early" Through your front door without knockin like Mr. Furley Itīs just me, you and the semi - "Threeīs Company" You want the crown, you be U.G.K. like Bun B [Chorus] [Sky] I rock jewels, cop tools, I will not lose A million miles a minute is how my block moves I stay in the fast lane, never fakin, cheddar chasin Iīm in the game for the cash mayne And bitches play this in they Benzes, Jeeps and G.O.īs They say Iīm arrogant and got a big ego But they still love to swallow me up And every hotel suite, they wanna follow me up But I ainīt gonī put my dick in for free, nah ma You want the kid then you gotta pay this pimpin a fee And ainīt no champagne left, so letīs toast īgnac Sky baller and Game ībout to bring the West coast back Iīm on that get dough shit, that Frank War{?} pimpin that ho shit In Cali smokin that īdro shit I still push fishscale, and china white A lilī nigga with a big gun and I ainīt tryin to fight [Chorus] Visitas: 374

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