The Game - For my gangstaz

Letras de Canciones | Artistas con t | The Game |

For my gangstaz The Game

[scratched:] "Livin in Compton, California C-A" Charlie O, drop that hot shit [The Game] Motherfucker itīs the Game, mister tint the windows witīcha brain Since a youngīn up and comin, all I did was cop īcaine They try and change the Game, nigga I still cop īcaine I ainīt moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came Bitches tryin to throw salt in my name, barbers tryin to part my game Niggaz tryin to chalk my frame But I walk on a thin line without scuffin my Chucks Bad Boyyyyy, and I fuck with Puff So bring the guns if you want nigga; Iīm real good with the glock And 50 Gīs say you leave in a box When I fuck Lilī Kim guess Iīm feelin like īPac Niggaz wanna wrestle The Game, guess they feel like The Rock "It doesnīt matter," 745 up and down your block Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot Itīs different in my hood, only time we take shots is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block [Chorus] This is for the gangster, in me This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters pour the brew This is for the gangster, in me This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters red and blue [Verse Two] Iīm worldwide with this gangsta lean, my lifeīs no dream I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip My thugs get crunk off Lilī Flip State to state many shows I rip, Iīm the boss of the Bay Like Clint Eastwood, make my day Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin paid In the end, all they get is played Maybe a nut, no Ice Capade Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey And I donīt give a fuck if you really donīt like me Itīs in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy One of the best I might be, it really donīt matter When I bust, sucker MCīs scatter, gettin out of my way I bust bad bitches night and day I make classics like Dr. Dre, closed casket from rhymes I say [Chorus] [The Game] ... Gonī move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis And ride with the West we got lower coat prices You know me the king of L.A., New York Drivin through Brooklyn in a foī, same color as water You want X? I can cover the order Ninety-foī been hustlin now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter Not the rap martyr, or the second rap Carter Comptonīs own, Iīm home, not the best I just rap harder Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me Street spinnin like waves on that Continental T My grandmoms woulda been proud of me, look at your grandson now īTil my demis, Black Mafia ties So itīs hard to let the larcent die, my {?} treys A killer changin the game like them Marcy guys And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie Iīm from Compton, he from New York City, cīmon really? [Chorus] Visitas: 188

Con 0 votos

Encontraste algun error en la letra? Por favor dinos! Asi podemos hacer una mejor web para ti!

Este sitio es parte de la red Publispain.com
Asistencia || Intercambio de Links || Datos Legales || Grupo Publispain
Las letras de canciones pertenecen a sus autores y se muestran aquí por motivos educativos.