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The Game

Mama Knows (Feat. Nelly Furtado) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Mama Knows (Feat. Nelly Furtado)

[Verse 1: Game]
Mama told me stay away from them niggas
Mama told me she had a K for them niggas
Mama told me she go to pay for them niggas
While my grandmother told me that she would pray for them niggas
They just young black and ignorant
Lusting over models and the Benjamins
Got the game twisted like (what?) licorice
When I was rocking lottos moving packs in front of McDonalds
She was looking for me, pulled up in that Old El Dorado
I was running around with Chase, chasing new black wheels
Why would I do that still? That’s what got 2Pac killed…
But I use that still cause I won’t do that deal
Screw the muzzle in potatoes of that new Mac Mill
What did I learn? Nothing
My papa smoking sherm blunts and
Beating on my moms like her head was a percussion
Tat! Tat! My.45 knocking on your window
She said there would be days like this, Pharrell, drop the instrumental

[Pharrell:]
Yezzir…

[Hook: Nelly Furtado]
I know I must go and I don’t know my way
Still don’t know where we all came from

[Verse 2: Game]
Crack a Swisher, crack a 5th up
Hennessy pouring like Niagara Falls
Used to watch Magic, he showed me how to ball
Moms working late night, to get a plate right
Had some older brothers, all we did was smoke and play-fight
Wish I could go back to them days cause streets don’t play right
Some niggas hard, other niggas was the Kid N Play type
Didn’t stop me from pretending I was Apollo from Rocky
Working on my dip-game, now nobody wanna box me
Pick and choose, stick and move
So many dudes ended up in sleeping bags on late-night news
But not my mama’s song, going around the hood serving customers
She yapping in my ear, but it’s louder than the muffler
What I didn’t listen to, I wish I would’ve trusted her
Wish I had a shovel, be digging both of my brothers up
Like “here hug em ma, one last time”
Put a chain on both of them niggas, they get one last shine

READ  Real Gangstaz - The Game

[Hook: Nelly Furtado]

[Verse 3: Game]
Put your block down, recognize a king cause it’s my town
Word to my mother you can throw up your rock now
Got off the beef shit cause I ain’t tryna see my mama in all-black
Right there, crying over hard facts
Now she gotta turn in all her cars and get her house back
Never! She carried me for 9 months so she can have whatever
Plus she taught me how to shoot Berettas, told me that I’d be a king
So RIP to Coretta, if you don’t understand that
Then refer to my letter, while I sprinkle
Niggas with platinum, from my last album
Got the check, so I signed on the X like Malcolm
Riding through the hood, you hating niggas like “how come? “
That niggas Game got it, heard he selling talcum
Either way, hey playboy, check it, this is the outcome
You might not like it, but my mama psychic
Why you niggas twisted like the top of a Sidekick?

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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’

READ  Greystone (Feat. Fat Joe, Sam Hook & Young Chris) - The Game

[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

READ  Real Gangstaz - The Game
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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)

READ  Real Gangstaz - The Game

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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