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The Game

Let Me Know (Feat. Jeremih) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Let Me Know (Feat. Jeremih)

[Intro]
Alright let’s do it

[Hook]
Baby let me know if you’ll let me
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
Baby let me know if you’ll let me
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
[Verse 1: Game]
Where the body cams at when they killed Sandra Bland though?
Where the justice system at when the cops go Rambo?
Black lives matter when we talkin’ about Philando
But all lives matter when we talkin’ bout Orlando
49 dead bodies, 83 in France though
They say Alton had a gun, we ain’t see it in his hands though
We screamin’ fuck the police but what about Dallas?
All these murders on the news
Every week it’s another one, DJ Khaled
How we gon’ respect the badge if you don’t protect and serve?
They say life ain’t a movie but it’s feelin’ like The Purge
And this rag in my pocket match the blood in the curb
Hear the shots in the hood but can they feel it in the ‘burbs?
Turn on the news, get seduced by the words
And the noose on the black man’s neck sounds absurd
Summer 16 look like more than a Drake song
And that’s just this year, you forgot about Trayvon?

[Hook]
Baby you’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know

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[Verse 2: Game]
Why it take 3 days for Obama to respond?
Cause Minnesota 3 days from the White House lawn
Trump and Hillary both cons
Backstab us like the bullets on in back of LaQuan
This ain’t the game, I come to you as Jayceon
With both of my hands up, don’t shoot on my palms
Tamir Rice was just a kid and unarmed
Them cops was Cleveland fans, you just killed the next Lebron
We just need a resolution
When did being detained become a fuckin’ execution?
Turn on the news, my stomach turnin’ to knots
As the world keep turnin’, I’m about to turn into Pac
I’m so determined, I promise to sing a sermon
Every night a mother dreads like Busta in Higher Learnin’
Candles burnin’ so we marchin’ up the blocks
Moment of silence every time a body drops
When the killin’ gon’ stop?
If they stop killin’ us will we stop killin’ cops?

[Hook]
Baby, you’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know
You’ll let me know, you’ll let me know

[Verse 3: Jeremih]
Yeah, yeah
Now tell me, can you stand up?
Knowin’ everybody can’t stand us?
Don’t they know that hate is a cancer?
Ask around, nobody got the answers
Now tell me, can you stand up?
Knowin’ everybody can’t stand us?
Didn’t know we was livin’ in Orlando
People dyin’ with their hands up
Now I hope the whole world
Wake up, wake up, wake up
Uhhh, wake up, wake up, wake up

[Outro: Jeremih]
Let me know
Let me know
Somebody let me know
Wake up, wake up, wake up

READ  Business Never Personal (Feat. JT) - The Game
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The Game

Runnin’ (Feat. Tony Yayo) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Runnin’ (Feat. Tony Yayo)

[Chorus]
Got to live for today cause tomorrow ain’t promised to me
Don’t just want a piece I want my whole destiny
(If you got it)
I’m gone take it
(If you’re in it)
You’re coming with me
(Bench warmers)
Get no playing time
(No sleeping)
Till I cross the line
I’m runnin’

[The Game]
With 99 miles left, on the Avis rental car
blowing horns like Miles Davis at the pearly gate
God let me in
Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN
I know I got more sins than two lesbians
Been back and forth across the border like Mexicans
But (I’m runnin’) like New York pedestrians
Trying not to scuff my Nike Air checks again
It’s funny how niggaz be the best of friends
And fall out over pussy and wanna dead they man
One of my niggaz in the grave the other one in the pin
She fuckin my enemies inside my homeboys Benz
Now she beggin God’s mercy cause she ain’t listen to Nas
And never heard about Ike and the Iverson jersey
He got a cousin named Jason that rock the Gary Payton
Now the same trifling bitch is a HIV patient
True story

[Chorus]

[Tony Yayo]
If I get knocked with my gun nigga I’m runnin’
If I catch a murder one nigga I’m runnin’
Homicide come around and they keep on coming
That’s why I’m out of state and I keep on runnin’
I ain’t Nelly but my desert eagles on girl
Just dropped bail traveling the world
When I sign my deal I said fuck jail
I went on tour to Barcelona and Brazil
This shit real fuck an appeal
D’s want my head like that bitch in Kill Bill
Sling dope sling crack and them e pills
That’s why I’m on the low like a damn navy seal
I’m runnin’

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[Chorus]

[Game]
Cause I gotta pack them shows
And Dre told me ain’t no coming back from Go
So I gotta get my album in place
My G-Unit features
My Eminem sixteens
My Dr. Dre beats
And it was two years from today when I started rhyming
And took my demo to Suge and he ain’t sign me
Niggaz threatening my life like it’s hard to find me
See me shining in the hood like twenty inch Lexanis
My mom said I’m hard head
I don’t follow the rules
Why should I when Reebok giving niggaz they own shoes
And I’m dealing with the same problems 50 Cent got
Yayo in jail and they think I’m trying to take his spot
I’m in the studio laughing at Chris Rock
Then I turn on MTV and see Soulja Slim shot
And niggaz trying to gun me down in the rim shop
Cause I just want the same recognition that the crypts got
They say I’m the next in line and if I get shot
Then I go out as the Bobby Fischer of hip hop
Make yo chest move
Sylvia Rome and Kevin Lyle slept cool
Jimmy Iovine was the best move

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The Game

Dr. Dre, Pt. 2 – The Game

Lirik lagu: Dr. Dre, Pt. 2

[Dr. Dre:]
In Compton, you either a blood or a crip
Nigga ain’t no one in between
Shit was a hard decision for him to make, cause both his parents was crips
His Uncle Greg was a crip, he died when he was 5
His brother Jevon, he got murdered when he was just 13
After that he decided that being a crip just wasn’t for him
So he ran across the tracks until everything turned red
And never looked back

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The Game

Hit The J (Feat. Lifestyle) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Hit The J (Feat. Lifestyle)

That Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J
She don’t wanna hit the J

Don’t want an undefeated title, don’t want my chain
Don’t want that new kid red, bitch, is money gain
See that red Maserati, niggas know it’s game
Drive that bitch down road screens and blow the brains
Got that Rolly on my wrist, man that hoe insane
Remind me of my chick Regatta, she always pay.
Got a squad full chicks, they ain’t dropping names
They all call like the get up play for Notre Dame
What’s the next? Gotta dig ins, yea, that’s right, that’s right
You know I’ll be digging, I’ll be eating on the kitten, I’ll be picking out
Never take her out to crustaceans and the in and out
Just like that Charlie Shay, nigga goin’ in ‘er mouth
She do everything ‘xcept smoke that mean let a nigga poke
That mean she be off the coke like players centerfolds
Swear to God she a potent man
But she like Lindsay Lohan, except she be running from that dope man

That Harry Potter, that Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
Cause she don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit it)
Now she don’t wanna hit the J (woh oh woh oh)

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Hit these bitches in my face, I’m blowing up
And when I’m stepping in the place, we’ll be calling up
Fourteen bottles of Ace, models showing up
I tell ‘er, homie break that down, and we gon roll it up
It’s Friday and she ain’t got shit to do
And we ain’t got shit to do
So umm, what’s good with you?
Smoke a little, talk a little, roll that up
Girl twist that J, remind me of my nigga Rondo
I know she ain’t trying to hit that J
Different chains, different lokes
Different days, different strokes.
I smoke that shit that made Arnold and Willis broke
You know my lifestyle, squeeshes in them life styles
Bitches in the white house, red Camarro piped out.
I’ll be iced out, my blunts be packed in
I’ll smoke them till it’s no more, I’m like the pack ten
I’m ’bout to pack ten bitches with them accents
Man we ’bout to pack twelve swishers in that black hen

That Harry Potter, that Marry Jane
That OG Kush, that sour diesel drive them girls insane
I roll it up, she disappear like David Blane
And she ain’t try to book a flight on that paper plane
Cause she don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit the J)
She don’t wanna hit the J (she don’t wanna hit it)
Now she don’t wanna hit the J (woh oh woh oh)

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