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The Game

Mean Muggin (Feat. 2 Chainz & French Montana) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Mean Muggin (Feat. 2 Chainz & French Montana)

Walk up in the club with the million dollar is on
Swing her side to side, like my head long
Feeling like Tucci in this small fucker
Eyes Japanese, blowing sushi in this motherfucker
No true religions, just levi, come on down to the ski hive
Your bitch love to play soft ball, I let her ballin’ knee high
She ride the dick like yee-haw
She don’t fuck with no cowboys
I beat it up like I’m he-man
She love fuckin’ them key men
And after I score I do the saucer and then
Victor crew is in that Phantom
Drop the antenna
I think I see some haters in here
I think I see some haters in here
Caught the ratch (dawg)

(Dawg) Cause them niggas still mean muggin’
Nigga what you lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
What you lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
Bitch, whatcha lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
Man, that shit don’t even mean nothin’

Yea, they mean muggin’, the 3D version
Ball in your face like Pee Wee Herman
Jack of all trades, no ace of spades
But I got a ace in my twenty ounces Gatorade
Shake that, shake that, shake it then pull it
I have me a threesome, round four something
Asta la vista, grid storm freezer
Automatic weapon, chopper had a seizure
Fire. Snap back through your snap back
Ran out of room and my trunks all need a hash back
How you niggas leaking?
Hope you niggas listenin’
Big money talk. Why you niggas whisperin’?

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Cause them niggas still mean muggin’
(Dawg) Nigga what you lookin’ at?
You nigga still mean muggin’
(Dawg) What you lookin’ at?
You nigga still mean muggin’
(Dawg) Bitch, whatcha lookin’ at?
You nigga still mean muggin’
(Dawg) Man, that shit don’t even mean nothin’

Roll up in the club like a owner’s motherfucka’
Old niggas kicking jeans I’m like pawning motherfucka’
Hoes wipe me down, Little Boosty in this motherfucka’
Rolling that Lili, Fuji’s in this motherfucka’
I say Lili, Carmelo in this motherfucka’
Shorty wanna puff, J Lo in this motherfucka’
High rollers bank stop, tattoos, tank tops
Bad news, thanks pop, you mean fool lamb chops
You know I run my city, please believe that
Got that work with them canines on rehab
Niggas licking up their face, we go eye in that
Get Rob Cole game, he gon let you buy it back

(Dawg) Cause them niggas still mean muggin’
Nigga what you lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
What you lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
Bitch, whatcha lookin’ at?
(Dawg) You nigga still mean muggin’
Man, that shit don’t even mean nothin’

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The Game

My Flag/Da Homies – The Game

Part I: My Flag

[Produced By DJ Mustard]

[Hook: Game]
Maybe I should iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another crease in it
Maybe I should iron out my flag
If you gang banging who you beefing with?

[Verse 1: Game]
I Know your baby never hurt nobody
But he got his ass smoked at that Mustard party
OG Blood, everybody know me when I came in with the little homies, Skeme!

[Verse 2: Skeme]
Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
That nigga duke just moved an ounce of yayo
And you know I keep gunners on the payroll
I even fucked with Mitchy Slick down in Daygo
Young General these niggas gotta spray for
You fuck around and catch 20 out this Range Ro’
Mane that beef shit is what a nigga made for
I open fire on her open mouth, case closed
Came in this bitch with Chuck Taylor’s screaming fuck haters
Bad bitch I’ma fuck later, tryna touch paper
In a 6 tray rag going brazy up the ave
What I’m drinking got me thinking, nigga maybe I should iron out my –

[Hook: Game]
Maybe I should iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another crease in it
Maybe I should iron out my flag
If you gang banging who you beefing with?

[Verse 3: Jay 305]
It’s anybody killa, that’s for anybody nigga
Mainline, waistside, westside nigga
Fuck peace, this for Crenshaw kings
Sockin’ out niggas, tall as Yao Ming
Lowkey is on drop, give a fuck bout whatcho mama
When it’s on, it’s on, pop it like a bottle of patron
Then lay back with a bitch, man this is westside Jay 3-0 fifth
No gimmicks, God damn

[Verse 4: Mitchy Slick]
I won’t stop being a blood to gangland
To my dope then kicked in locked up in a strange land
So when they be like, “Slick, why we ain’t see you on TV or nothin’?”
Shit, I’m still tryin’ get off the gang injunction
Cause when it come to this been, I’m a monster to your leaf
You can do a whole damu documentary on just me
Call it “The Life of a Hundred Percent Real Whooper”
They did it for the grams, moves and the hush
Yeah Dat

READ  My Life (Feat. Lil Wayne) - The Game

[Hook: Game]
Maybe I should iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another crease in it
Maybe I should iron out my flag
If you gang banging who you beefing with?

[Verse 5: Joe Moses]
I put the woop in the woop like my DLB’s
All I know is VNG’s and FTB’s
I ran fades back to back, that’s on STB
And if you claimin’ you a blood, shit, you better know me
Big homie gave me a gun and said “It better be empty”
I was eleven years old with a motha’fuckin’ fifty
I got love for certain niggas, I’ve been doing this since knee high
And you ain’t a real blood if you didn’t bang at the beehive

[Verse 6: RJ]
Westside AM, back in a straight jacket
Mister LA back, free my A track
Middle of July, I’m just tryin’ bring a Maybach
Whole city riding, I ain’t even did a Dre track
Nigga this Athens, Miller gang mad
So east coast niggas be like “Cuh, you crackin’.”
Niggas ain’t goin’ hard, as you should stop rappin’
I’ma be the street rider till the casket

[Hook: Game]
Maybe I should iron out my flag
Maybe I should put another crease in it
Maybe I should iron out my flag
If you gang banging who you beefing with?

Part II: Da Homies

[Intro : The Game & RJ]
The Game – RJ, what’s that shit we was doing the other day blood to that uh, to that Mustard beat when the homie was beating on his chest and shit?
RJ – Oh you talkin’ bout that uh, that uh
The homies in the cut that’s on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street (Mumbling)
The Game – Ay the blood, ay take blood drink. Give me that mutha’fuckin’ weed blood. Ay duke, do that shit blood

[Hook : RJ]
The homies in the cut that’s on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street
The homie on probation, make him sit up in the back
Bout to hit the weed spot and get another sack
I said, the homies in the cut that’s on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll deep
Finger on the trigger, bandana round the Mac
Ride through the hood with a cup full of ‘gnac

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[Interlude]
Ay nigga, lemme hit the weed
Where the fuck you get this bud from homie?
Ay, we about to run outta gas my nigga

[Hook : RJ & Ty Dolla $ign]
The homies in the cut that’s on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street
The homie on probation, make him sit up in the back
Bout to hit the weed spot and get another sack
I said, the homies in the cut that’s on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll deep
Finger on the trigger, bandana round the Mac
Ride through the hood with a cup full of ‘gnac

[Verse 1 : AD]
Im a real Compton Crip I hope you niggas get the message
Leave them 16’s open, i’ll make them look bad on records
Chuck told me “I’m Good”, now I’m headed down to the Cedars
After that, straight to the hood where them tanas holding them heaters
Look, sagging down the A-Line, war fuck it no play time
Hit my first tour I was still chuckin’ up gang signs
Homies still cooking them cops hop out with K9
Lot of rappers’s callin’ out names, nigga don’t say mine
The homies in the cut that’s on E
Some niggas bang the C some niggas bangin’ the P
I’m really in the streets you other niggas is weak
On my mama and the hood, fuck around and Ya rest in peace
Especially when the homies in the cut that’s on E

[Hook : RJ & Ty Dolla $ign]
The homies in the cut that’s on E, niggas turnt up and we bout to hit the street
The homie on probation, make him sit up in the back
Bout to hit the weed spot and get another sack
I said, the homies in the cut that’s on E, down for whatever cuz the homies roll deep
Finger on the trigger, bandana round the Mac
Ride through the hood with a cup full of ‘gnac

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[Outro Skit]
AD : Say nigga, that little nigga’s right there cuz
Person 2 : Where nigga?
AD : Right across the street loc. Man I told these niggas the last time they keep pullin’ em over here there gonna be problems cuz
Ay cuz, turn that fuckin’ music down nigga
Tired of these niggas comin’ over here and shit nigga
Turn the lights on, man turn the lights on!
Man pull up nigga, I said pull up cuh!
Person 2: Hold on, hold on, they look like One Time
(Sirens blare)
Oh fuck cuh
(Police in background): This is the Compton Police
AD : Man I knew I shouldn’t have rolled witchu niggas, I’m about to get life cuz
Person 1: Life? Cuz they bout to put me on the row nigga
(Pol. in back) Put your (?)
Person 2: Aight!
(Pol. in back) Shut it off asshole!
AD : It’s off cuh
Game: Hey look at blood an them get jacked by the ones
Person 4: Ha ha ha nigga don’t drop that soap nigga
Game: Bitch ass niggas in ya own hood nigga
(laughing)
Game: Nigga hit the switch nigga (Car hydraulics activate) Get back to 05′ on these niggas blood
Person 4: Woo
(Driving away)
Person 2: I ain’t goin’
AD : Shh
Person 2: Fuck that nigga cuz I swear to god I ain’t goin’
AD : The fuck you mean you ain’t going?
Person 2: I ain’t going back to the pen cuz I can’t
AD : Nigga what the fuck we gon’ do then?
Person 2: I don’t know about you niggas but I’m going out
AD : Fuck it then cuh, on Compton Crip! Kick the door open!
(Sounds of slamming and gunshots)
AD : Fuck the police!!

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The Game

Hollywood (Feat. Scarface) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Hollywood (Feat. Scarface)

[Verse 1: Game]
Open up the mind of a killer
Niggas on the front line, strong as gorillas
Another dead body in the mist
Compton tattooed on his stomach
Ain’t that a bitch?
Hub city with, buck fifty
Reunite with G-unit? Bitch, fuck 50
Look, take this dick or take this hit
We do it big, keep our bitches on that fey-fey shit
So what it is, let me tell you what it ain’t
Niggas trying to leave the city but they can’t
Stuck on Central and Rosecrans
America meet the dope man
More gold than Trinidad James, guns in both hands
Fiends smokin’ rock outta Coke cans
Seduced by that white girl, Marilyn Monroe man
You got some weed, and the Molly good
Now take your bitch-ass to Hollywood
Now take your bitch-ass to Hollywood
Now take your bitch-ass to Hollywood

[Verse 2: Scarface]
Light, camera, action, you’re gone
Hollywood swing, but when I catch you it’s on
The streets got 3 simple rules we abide by
Hear no evil, speak none, you through blind eyes
Niggas need to learn to keep they mouth shut
Nosey motherfuckers get their ass shot the fuck up
It’s money over everything, trust me
So I’mma let my nuts hang, and plus we’ve
Been known to pull them murderous stunts
And get away scot-free, niggas puffin’ they blunts
And gettin’ down in they movie room
My niggas Loonie Tunes
That’s when it’s fuck me, then it’s fuck you
I’m all day plottin’ on that get-back
And when it’s all mapped out, you finna get that
I show a motherfucker where the strength at
I said I had an army and I meant that
So if Holly wanna hide in California then Holly could
But I’ve got killers off in Holly-hood
So take your bitch-ass out to Hollywood
Take your bitch-ass out to Hollywood

READ  Ricky - The Game
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The Game

Business Never Personal (Feat. JT) – The Game

Lirik lagu: Business Never Personal (Feat. JT)

[The Game]
Yo, when I’m out in Oakland, catch me in the silver and black Coupe
With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue
When I’m out in San Fran, the P.D. real nervous
Cause they know I’m packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey
Nigga, it ain’t nuttin for me to empty a clip
Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip
I know about gangs, had shootouts with plenty of Crips
I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks
So ain’t nuttin you can tell me, about the game
Come with beef and leave here without your brains
And I’ma drive upstate and try to bounce this ‘caine
In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain
And you know I got the South clickin
Cause ain’t nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens
So fuck with my D and get found wit’cha mouth missin
This ain’t about you and me it’s about business nigga

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
It’s business never personal, real live on blocks
If we ain’t movin the rocks, then we movin the stocks
Cross a hustler motherfucker you’ll arrive in a box
It’s the true to life struggle ’til we arrive on top

[JT]
They don’t understand me, like the Birdman I got candy
Put the herb in, I got family
I’m doin 85, in the 50-mile-an-hour lane
Tryin to handle my business, the Figgaro stack change
Independent tycoons (tycoons) – yeah
My niggaz puff trees, snort coke and chew shrooms
Bad to the bone (to the bone)
And cain’t trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone
My whole crew dirty, fuckin with amphetamines
Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines
Now the streets knowin (knowin)
And I’ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens
Still blowin
Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse, gold knock them bitches outs
We take trips out to Houston and D.C.
For the West coast, nigga can you feel me?

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[Chorus]

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