Альбом The Game

(feat. Mac Minister)

[Chorus: sung by Tracey Nelson]
Walkin down the street, in my All Stars
In my, khaki suit, doin what +I+ do
Walkin down the street, smokin, chronic
In my black locs, lookin, +AT+ you

[The Game:]
Guess who's back on the West coast tracks
It's the motherfuckin messiah of gangsta rap
Still dip in the six-fo', still puffin on the same chronic
Haters mad cause I still got it
I never fall off, even without the Doc
You niggaz sellin your soul tryin to stay on top
Bitch nigga check your Kotex, you niggaz ain't movin shit
like the hand on a fake-ass Rolex
I'm five million sold, the cover of my last album
the only time you see me sittin on gold
I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated
Most loved and the motherfuckin most hated
Keep rollin like gold Daytons
Niggaz got the game fucked up like Hennessy with a Coke chaser
You gotta deal with me, I'm the West coast saviour
Niggaz think of me everytime they six-fo' scraper

[Mac Minister:]
What do you call a nigga who's overbearin
Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful
You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate
He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his heyday in the worst way
The five star surgeon general
Took Jayceon to the Aftermath research department
And gave him a blood test
It came back G-A-M-E positive
The nigga's infected with the Game virus
His oratorical skills are so impeccable
That niggaz in the streets call him Cyrus
The young don who is down with violence
cause in his heart he's a tyrant
It's not a game, it's just called The Game
There'll be no referees, no halftime reports
When the game is over, The Game is over
You can't put a quarter in the machine and get three mo' men
THAT'S, the end

[Chorus]

[The Game:]
I done been to hell and back
Left for dead, you know who to thank for that
Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track
You can take my soul but can't take my plaques
I'm the motherfuckin snare when it touch the beat
I'm the 808 drum that got you movin your feet
I'm the heir to the throne after the D-R-E
Product of my environment, you old-ass niggaz
get ready for your early retirement
Before I let hip-hop burn down I run in the building like a fireman
Who can outspit me when I'm high off sticky
Throwin back Patron shots in some creased up dickies
I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube +Lynch'd+ me
Snoop stamped me and the good Doc handpicked me
You still with me? Me and my mic
can't be seperated like Interscope and - hahaha
Ohhh shit
This some good ass motherfuckin weed
California sticky green!
This is the aftermath for the Aftermath
West, coast!

Intro:

Now where's the shit?
The shit?
The shit!
N*gga whatsup man?
Come on kill that noise man, let's just get the shit,
Don't worry, you'll get the shit,
You'll be,
Knee deep in shit!

Chorus: (The Game)

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

Verse 1:

I let the whole world know that I can't be stopped,
Even without Doc I'm still from the (Streets of Compton),
Yeah ***** I said it, and I'ma stay on top,
Like a hoodrat with bomb ass cock,
Run up in 'em like these rap *****z, I ain't gotta clap *****z,
End your career with one line like that *****z,
Hit the switch front and back, make it bounce,
Let it jump, Killa-for-ni-a is where I'm from,
3 wheelin' with the ass out, smoke chronic 'til I pass out,
All the way to my ***** Daz house,
He always gotta big bad bitch from Long Beach,
She a known freak and she gotta long reach,
She gon' touch it, suck it, fuck it, never back down,
'specially when Al Green in the background,
Now bitch hit the weed and turn that ass round,
It's time to bring back Chronic into Doggystyle,
Westcoast *****z still holdin' shit down,

Chorus: (The Game)

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

Verse 2:

I'm back on the cover of the Source and the XXL,
Floatin' all through the (Streets of Compton),
I got more bitches, more plaques, more beef, and more straps,
That's what the fuck I call "Gangsta rap",
I was the Aftermath remedy 'til friends turn enemies,
Streets kept me laced like bloods dipped in hennesse,
You *****z act like the Game can't roll 'em out,
One man show still sell a motherfucker out,
We know Dre still sell a motherfucker out,
'cus everybody here from the (Streets of Compton),
We got crip *****z, blood *****z, assays, asians,
Red and blue laces, tattoos on faces,
I kept you *****z waiting had to take you back to the basics,
Switch the Impala from gold to chrome Daitons,
Everytime your bitch hear my voice she masturbating,
I run though hoes like Walter Payton on the daily,
I got your main bitch swallowing my babies,

Chorus: (The Game)

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton
(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

I'm the Westcoast Rakim, got you *****z blocked in,
Glass house parked sideways on the stock rims,
New school, old school mentality,
Translation - Four pumps and twelve batteries,
Hydraulics make the world go round,
Your girl go down, chronic make your girl slow down,
For she end up like superhead, giving superhead,
Every ***** in the industry now fuck superhead,
And I might just fuck her too,
If I ever catch her sliding or riding through the (Streets of Compton),
Rolling down Green Leaf smoking on that green leaf,
With a Mac 10 like I was born on Queen's Street,
Murder MCs like I was born in Queen's Bridge,
That how I show you palm *****z where the King is,
And you don't wanna play chess on a time clock,
I'm in the Hall Of Fame next to Snoop, behind 'Pac,
I got the whole motherfucking world locked,

Chorus: (The Game)

I'm a G, you can't see me,
That must be, why you're talkin' (Shut your mouth bitch)
I'm the shit, and you know,
It, never stops, there's no stoppin' (It don't stop *****z)
Light a lo', blow a smoke, oh,
As I cruise, streets of Compton

(Roll out the six fo, six trey, glass house, '57 Chevelot, tell them *****z)

Outro:

Everybody wanna know what the fuck is going on,
Am I signed to Aftermath? Interscope? What's up with Geffen?
I'ma just say it like this…
One day I walked in the motherfuckin' house,
And all my shit was gone.

[Intro]
Dre, I see dead people
Yo Dre, thought I was dead
West Coast

[Verse 1]
I'm the doctor's advocate, nigga Dre shot cha
Brought me back from the dead, that's why they call him the Doctor
The Math gonna drop him and 50 ain't rockin
With him no more, It's okay, I get it poppin
Whole club rockin like a 6-4 Impala
Drink Cris', throw it up, call the shit hydraulics
Then piss in a cup, call the shit Hypnotiq
I bleed Compton, spit crack and shit Chronic
And you new niggaz ain't shit but new niggaz
Bathing Ape shoe niggaz, I'm talking to you niggaz
Bounce in the 6-4, throwing up Westside man
Sell another five million albums, Yes I am
Fresh like damn, this nigga did it again
A hundred thousand on his neck, LA above the brim
Inside the lambo, shotgun with snoop
What would the motherfuckin' west coast be without one crip and

[Chorus]
One blood {*4X*}
Blood {*9X*}
One blood {*4X*}

[Verse 2]
I'm from the west side of the 6-4 Impala
Where niggaz say where you from, we don't ever say holla
Bandana on the right side, gun on the left side
Niggaz in New York know how to throw up the west side
Word to Eazy, I'm so ill, believe me
I made room for Jeezy, but the rest of you niggaz
Better be glad you breathin, All I need is one reason
I'm the king and Dre said it, the west coast need me
I don't know why you niggaz keep tryin me
Everybody know that I'm the aire to the Aftermath dynasty
And I ain't gotta make shit for the club
What DJ gonna turn down a 38 snub
You 38 and you still rappin? Ugh
I'm 26 nigga, so is the doves
In the '07 Hummer, hop out, nobody dodge
When the chronic smoke clear, all you gonna hear is

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I ain't got beef with 50, no beef with Jay
What's beef when you getting head in the 6-Tre
And the double game chains, I keep 'em on display
Black t-shirt so all you see is the A
Turn on the TV and all you see is the A
You niggaz better make up a dance and try and get radio play
Keep on snapping your fingers, I ain't going away
I don't regret what I spit cause I know what I say
And niggaz talking bout me, they don't know when to stop
I got the Louis Vuiton beltbuckle holding the glock
No bean, no silencer, I know when to pop
Wait til Lil' Jon come on and let off a shot
I had the number 1 billboard spot
Niggaz stepped on my fingers and I climbed right back to the top
I'm Big, I'm Cube, I'm Nas, I'm Pac
This ain't shit but a warning until my album drops

[Chorus] - 2X

Compton
{"Gangsta boogie, gangsta boogie! Gangsta boogie.."}
Nigga nigga nigga I'm from

[Chorus]
(Compton, Compton, Compton)
It's the home of America's gangsta rap
The place of danger where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
Where the cops is crooked, and them bitches is killin
And them niggaz hold it down like black guerillas, where
The {"Gangsta boogie"}, the {"gangsta boogie!"}
The {"Gangsta boogie"} - nigga nigga nigga I'm from (Compton)

[The Game]
Yeah, The Game on fire, check the gold wires
Hip-Hop on lock like some muh'fuckin pliers
Me and Will.I.Am yeah we take niggaz higher
Niggaz talkin shit get your fuckin mouth wired
Walkin through Compton, Eazy still alive
Raider hat to the back throw your dubs in the sky
My flowetry wicked, sit back while I kick it
And do it like Dre did it, N.W.A. did it
I cook crack like the first nigga that ever bought a brick
from a ese, nigga I could write an essay
About all the gangsta niggaz that I seen lowridin
In they Che-vys with a bitch ridin shotgun reppin L.A.
Crips, Bloods, homes goin loco
My glock to me, is like Ice Cube and Yo-Yo
Sittin in a low-low, on chrome spinners
Nobody drop nuttin this winter, nigga I'm from

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Nigga I smoke chronic, ain't shit changed
since Young MC and Eazy-E was rappin, "We All in the Same Gang"
Some niggaz chain hang, other niggaz gangbang
I do both cause I'm the king of the motherfuckin West coast
Kick the door open, Will let's go
Flow like Esco', New York niggaz say I'm the best yo
Hard like Timbos, blowin on indo
Niggaz try to play me get stretched out like a limo
I was shoppin crack when Dre was bangin my demo
And all you old niggaz is washed up like N.O.
Don't take it the wrong way, I got love for my kinfolk
Can I get a moment of silence Will bang the instrumental
.. I spit for my niggaz in the line-up
that'll never see the sun again, so I close my blinds up
First album sold 'em out, Impalas rolled 'em out
Cause the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about

[Chorus - 2X]

[The Game]
Welcome to the city of G's
Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed peas
Fans got us in-the-scope/Interscope, like Jimmy Iovine
Cause we (Ruthless), like Will before the (Black Eyed Peas)
Fuck all rappers, look at all the hate I see
I'm sick, you can't get rid of me, I'm HIV
Nigga get another job, hip-hop is not hirin
I'm the reason Dre feel comfortable retirin
I just might put out "Detox" myself
Smoke so much, I check in detox myself
One man army, took out Reeboks myself
Fortyfive in my khakis gotta watch my health
I'm so hard nigga, glock 17 quick draw nigga
Like the old me, 17, sippin malt liquor
All black khaki suit, all black Converse
Nigga I'ma keep on stompin comin (Straight Outta)

[Chorus - 2X]

[The Game:]
As my, Daytons spin, lowrider sittin low
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-fo', Henny in the passenger side
Smokin chronic just +Let Me Ride+
You would do it if my name was Dre, second comin motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of L.A.
I'm known for makin bitches take they clothes off
Long as I'm from Compton, California I could never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin ounce of raw
Dribble rock like Kobe Bryant bounce the ball
Fuck the law!! Feedin my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson look high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, black and rich, I'm the +Public Enemy+
Ridin the bass drum, Just Blaze got the +Remedy+

[Chorus:]
[Chuck D: scratched] "Now they got me in a cell"
I got the remedy
[Chuck D: scratched] "Now they got me in a cell"
Aftermath got the remedy
[Chuck D: scratched] "Now they got me in a cell"
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked

[The Game:]
I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angels where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And starin at that Hollywood sign'll get you straight jacked
(Where you from fool?) Better say you pro-black
Causin walkin in Roscoe's wit'cha chain hangin
is like Giuliani tryin to get rid of the gangbaners
Now that 'Pac passed, tryin to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city like Godzilla
Doin mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped +Cop Killer+
Pull a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper wit'cha life in his hand
Even the toughest niggaz run when my gun go... blam
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now let me see your motherfuckin hands

[Chorus]

[The Game:]
I'm back by popular demand and so
All black interior on the cherry red six-fo'
Niggaz endin they careers tryin to shut me up
Actin like I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast still dippin
Game still Bloodin, and Snoop still Crippin
So what you sayin loc? Red and blue bandana
tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinnin like the hundred spokes
Three wheelin through the neighborhood
System on blast, as the motherfuckin one-time pass
The key to drivebys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfuckin confetti
When you cross that enemy line
Close your eyes, (Parental Discretion Iz Advised)

[Verse 1]
Pull the rag off the six-fo',
Hit the switch, show niggas how the shit go,
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone,
The D's is chrome, the frame is black.
(So watch it lift up)
Till the motherfucker bounce and break,
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate.
Let the games begin,
These other rap niggas so far behind me, go taste my rims,
Shit, let the chronic burn as the datens spin.
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem,
In the club, poppin' X pills like M & Ms,
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', bitch bring a friend.
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round,
And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down.
(Put your 'cris up!)
If you feel the same way,
Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA

[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath

[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at,
Where the bitches at,
You fucking on the first night, meet me in the back.
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks,
Move bitch! Who the fuck you think they came to see?
The protégé of the D R E,
You take a picture with him, and you gotta fuck me,
And you gotta fuck Busta, can't touch Eve,
Got something in my waist that you can't touch either,
That's - my gangsta bitch, and like Crips and Bloods,
I'm in the club on some gangsta shit.
(So nigga twist up)
Light another dub,
Bitches get scared when niggas start fighting in the club.
Ain't nothing but a g-thing, baby it's a g-thing,
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string,
I fuck a different bitch seven days a week,
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat.

[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath

[Verse 3]
Who thought I weren't coming back?
Look at me now,
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the motherfucking top down,
I'm The Game, nigga
Call your bitch, she ain't home, she with Game, nigga
Remember that, Dre
You passed me the torch, I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray,
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the ass scrapes,
Turn sunset into a motherfucking drag-race.
Now watch it bounce,
Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the shit down.
{When you hit the club)
Tell 'em you came with me,
(We gonna twist up)
In the V.I.P.
It's a new day, and if you ever knew Dre,
Motherfucker, you would say I was the new Dre.
Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke.

[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got bitches in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that ass,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath

(feat. Nate Dogg)

[The Game]
I'm from the old hood, somethin like yo' hood
Where niggaz don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it to Houston in a gray Mercedes
I'm a product of my environment, grew up in the 80's
So that mean, me Kanyeezy and Jeezy all crack babies
And it's evident my flow is heaven-sent
First LP, on the same shelf as the veterans
Nigga I can't be fucked, like a lesbian
I'm to hip-hop what Cartoon is to Mexicans
I'm a artist, never claimed to be the hardest
Just number one since B.I.G. and 'Pac departed
Nate ridin with me, Snoop ridin with me
All you other niggaz used to be good like Ken Griffey
I'm on fire like the tip of a blunt
On fire like a nigga that let it drip for a month
I'm a Blood, you can Crip if you want, just let it bump
like you got Scott Storch tied up in the trunk
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One: The Game]
Too much Cris' in the club not to get drunk
Too many bitches in the world not to fuck
Too much chronic in the studio not to roll it up
And too much bass in the trunk, so let it bump

[Chorus Two: Nate Dogg]
You look like you mad as fuck, but who cares?
Grabbin her by the arm, cause she stare
Don't know how much atten-tion you pay
You better be ready to die, in this game

[The Game]
I thought I told y'all
I'm done with the beef clown, my son three now
And I've been watchin Dre so long I'm makin beats now
Game on the rebound like Ben Wallace in the D-Town
I mean Chi-Town, fuck it it can go down
Nigga I spit the whole round, fo' plus fo'-pound
Nigga this the wild wild West, call it a showdown
And I'm Billy the Kid 'til they split my wig
I come back from the dead, tell 'em kill me again
Put my head on the barrel, dare a nigga to shoot me
I'm gangsta, took more shots than Tookie
I'm alive, so I'ma take a Patron shot for Tookie
Roll a California blunt and keep watchin the movie
Inspired by this gangbangin shit since I was two
I brought the West coast back, what the fuck you do?
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One + Chorus Two]

[The Game]
Drive fast, both hands on the dash
Close both of your eyes and hope that you don't crash
It's lyrical homicide, both airbags out
Roll the fuckin windows down, let the bass out
Niggaz - drop the top on whatever in
Bitches - let your ponytail blow in the wind
Inhale the chronic, blow out dollar signs
Nigga you can drive a Bentley if only in your mind
Four doors, leather and wood
Ride like I got a horse stable under my hood
And I keep a chrome fo'-five under my hood
So if I die, nigga bury me under my hood
Who had the hottest bitch in the game, wearin they chain
Mr. H to the Izzo, Nas and Hurricane
Long as my family straight, read this at my wake
I gave 'em "The Documentary" and they scraped the plate
Twenty magazine covers, nigga look at his face
I can not, will not ever be replaced
I'm the ice cream truck man, guns in the trunk man
Drugs in the trunk man, call me the front man

[Chorus One + Chorus Two]

[Nate Dogg]
He wolfin a lot of shit, he look scared
You can't find your girl, she right here
I'm not a bad dream, I'm a nightmare
'Sides there's way too many hoes in here

(feat. Kanye West)

[Sample:]
For you baby, I'd find you 4x

[Verse 1: The Game + sample repeats: "Wouldn't get far, far, far, far" and "For you baby, I'd find you"]

I done been around the world, been around the block
Been around hoes that fucked Biggie and Pac
Like Vida Guerrera, ass took her to the top
She'll give you some brains, you let her throw up the Roc
Let her put on your chain, she'll throw you some cock
Picture that, like Megan Good and Jamie Foxx
Hype said "It's a wrap", she still on the set
Puttin' oil on her legs, like she Gloria Velez
She was eye candy in the Double XL
Hopped of the page and on the skateboard with Pharrell
I knew she (wouldn't get far)
'Cause five hundred dollars can't get you that (far)
How you get that (far)?
And all these new video bitches tryna be Melyssa Ford
But they don't know Melyssa Ford drive a Honda Accord
She a video vixen, but behind close doors
She do whatever it take to get to the Grammy Awards
Haha

[Hook: The Game + sample, {Kanye West}]
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are,
Put your hands up ladies
(You wouldn't get far)
If you kept your legs closed
(It would be just a waste of time)
But you know
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are
I wrote this song for you
(For you baby, I'd find you) [x2]
For you {for you}, and you (uh)
For all y'all

[Verse 2: Kanye West + sample repeats: "Wouldn't get far, far, far, far" and "For you baby, I'd find you"]

Pop quiz, how many topless, black foxes
Did I have under my belt, like boxers
Not to brag, but, if it add up, one two
Nigga that's mad nuts, Game you mad nuts
How you gonna call out all these
Bitches knowin' damn well they gonna call me
The only dream of the ghetto prom queen
Was to make it to the screen, maybe get seen
Maybe get chose by a nigga from a team
Head so good he don't ask for a pre...nup
Now ask your self this question, uh
Would you be with Jay-Z if he wasn't CEO
Would you be with F-A-B-O, if he drove an EO
Would you ride with Ne-Yo, if he was in a Geo
Well why the hell you think these bitches comin' at me for?
But since they all fall in my palm, I'll take a trio

[Hook: The Game + sample]
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are,
Put your hands up baby
(You wouldn't get far)
If you kept your mouth closed
(It would be just a waste of time)
But you know
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are
I wrote this song for you
(For you baby, I'd find you) [x2]
For you, and you
For all y'all

[Verse 3: The Game + sample repeats: "Wouldn't get far, far, far, far" and "For you baby, I'd find you"]
I done have my share of bitches with long hair
Short 'do like Kelis, a Halle, and boomerang, yea
I been around the block in a Bentley, drop top
On Miami Beach when Lil' Kim was fuckin' with Scott
I got the scoop on Hoopz, whatever the case
She let you spray in her face, as long as you Bathin' Apes
And ain't nobody tryna take Beyonce from Jay
But I know a bitch named Super Head, fucked back in the day
The things niggas do when pussy sittin' on they face
Stab Un in the stomach
She musta had a pussy like Wonder Woman
On that superhero shit, fly as Gabrielle Union
In the back of my six, fo' Impala
Forget the double D's, I put 'em right in your face
Like that model bitch De Cara(?)
And she ain't win the show, but she ridin in that Gelatta(?)
That's why I fuck 'em today then forget 'em tomorrow

[Hook: The Game + sample]
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are,
Put your hands up ladies
(You wouldn't get far)
If you kept your legs closed
(It would be just a waste of time)
But you know
(You wouldn't get far, far, far)
Fuckin' them rap stars
You know who you are
I wrote this song for you
(For you baby, I'd find you) [x2]
For you, and you
For all y'all

[Outro: The Game talking]
God damn, you know what I'm sayin'?
I was sittin' back and watchin' Kanye video
And I see the same bitch that was in the homeboy Busta Rhyme's video
Then I flipped the motherfuckin' channel, checkin' out my uncle Snoop Dogg's video
And I see the same bitch that was in MY video
You know what I'm sayin'?
And then, you know what I'm sayin', to make that even more fucked up
I'm watchin' Oprah coverin' Hurricane Katrina
I see the same bitch on Oprah, floatin' away on the hood of a Camry,
that was in the nigga Lil' Weezy video
I mean, damn! Everywhere I look, everywhere I go, I see the same hoes
Don't get mad, I'm only bein' real... yea

(feat. Swizz Beatz)

[Swizz Beatz:]
Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)
C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!

[The Game:]
Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job
not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil
See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo'
Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe
Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so
I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain
And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz
Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz

[Chorus: x2]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!

[The Game:]
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down
Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound
And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks
West coast niggaz is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I body a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz
I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz
Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga
Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga
Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway
+Boyz N The Hood+ 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai
Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?

[Chorus]

[The Game:]
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer
One man show cause I fucked all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean... mean... rappin machine
Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary
I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin
No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin
Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin
Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin
They should build me an office up under the buildin
My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga

[Chorus]

[Swizz Beatz:]
We in the motherfuckin buildin man
You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right?
You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga
It is what the fuck it is man
How y'all wanna cut the cake?
You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga
Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster
Game is in the motherfuckin buildin
We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga
Bitch!

Chorus:

I only fuck with you, on two occasions,
When I'm drunk and I'm high,
I would be broke, if I could be with you,
That is why it's for one night, (what? What what what what?)

Verse 1:

I'm a motherfuckin' gangbanging nightmare,
Wake up motherfuckers, I traded in my white Nike Airs,
For a red pair of Converse, Back to the hood,
My own *****z acting like I turned my back on the hood,
I use my rap money to put crack in the hood,
Even brought the ***** Dr. Dre back to the hood,
I show *****z the Bentley then let you drive it,
Gone for two days and I ain't even check the mileage,
When we was fighting with crips it weren't 'bout no dollars,
It was about selling dope to put our kids through college,
I'm sitting on the block reminiscing for hours,
Wiping my tears 'cus now half of my *****z is cowards,
And now it's still fucking with *****z after I got shot,
And didn't get one hospital visit,
My homie Snoop told me there'd be days like this,
It hurt my heart to say this shit,

Chorus:

I only fuck with you, on two occasions,
When I'm drunk and I'm high,
I would be broke, if I could be with you,
That is why it's for one night, (what? What what what what?)

Verse 2:

Red bandana in my back pocket I'm for real,
This ain't pastel colour cacky suit and I ain't for real,
I don't run about shit I pull my gun about shit,
And let everything fly to keep my son up outta this,
I thought you loved me *****, talk is cheap,
Remember the bullet holes in my son's car seat?
My baby momma found 4 shells I din't get one “Keep your head up”
All I got was “Keep it real” keep it real my *****z?
Last year alone I spent $1.5 mil on my *****z,
After the bullshit, I stayed right there,
Took you to award shows, “There go Jay right there”,
“Where?” “Right there!” I had all you *****z in suits,
Cleaner than a pair of fresh Nike Airs,
I'm supposed to enjoy this shit but it's quite clear,
The last 12 months been a fucking nightmare.
Chorus:

I only fuck with you, on two occasions,
When I'm drunk and I'm high,
I would be broke, if I could be with you,
That is why it's for one night, (what? What what what what?)

Verse 3:

This shit worse than arguing with my bitch,
I gone been through more up and downs than an Impala switch,
Get you hand out my pocket *****, go fish,
I was born by myself so I don't owe y'all shit,
***** you tell me what you want me to do,
Drop my son off at home and come bang witchu?
Oh now it's “Fuck Game” nah ***** fuck you!
I put that on my life, matter a fact that's on Paru,
And reality is I get dot to end up in a cemetery, right beside you,
We can both rot, angels lying over my head, but the devil's inside yo' box,
You wanted my shine then I gave you ice,
Gave you a second chance then you played me twice,
Couldn't be a real homeboy to save you life,
I shoulda took Dr. Dre's advice.

Chorus:

I only fuck with you, on two occasions,
When I'm drunk and I'm high,
I would be broke, if I could be with you,
That is why it's for one night, (what? what what what what?)

(Feat. Busta Rhymes)

[The Game]
Yo Bus, I think I got.... the answer to all my problems...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin' bout, n***a, what's that?
[The Game]
Belevedere... and Banana Snapple [hiccoughs]
[Busta Rhymes]
Look.... get your fuckin' ass up, n***a, you over here trippin' on yourself,
n***a, you get in the fuckin' car, man, we gotta bounce, nig!
[The Game]
I'm a man... and most of these n***as, they don't know how to be a man... I got
a son...
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talkin about, n***a, come on, n***a, let's take yo' ass to the
crib, n***a, you tired, n***a. And put the drink down, n***a! We gotta go,
n***a!
[The Game]
One more shot....

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[The Game]
[Verse 1]
Dre, I didn't mean to turn my back on you,
But I'm a man, and sometimes a man do, what he gotta do,
Remember, I'm from Compton too,
I saw you and Eazy in 'em so I started wearing Khaki suits,
I was 12, smoking chronic, in '92,
I had a choice, be like Mike, or be like you,
I made a choice, now it's be Crip, or be Piru,
Whatever I was, I was banging Gin and Juice,
Never knew back then, I'd be friends with Snoop,
Now I gotta keep it gangsta cuz it's in my roots,
So I owe you my life, when I betrayed you,
I tried to think of what the fuck, Eminem might do.
If every n***a hated him, for that black bitch track,
And n***as stopped bumping Dre after Dee Barnes got slapped,
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[The Game]
[Verse 2]
I never said thank you, and I took it for granted,
You let me in your house and made me a part of your family,
Now I'm eating with you, Eve and Busta Rhymes,
I wasn't star-struck, I was just glad to be signed,
And even though sometimes I run loose,
You still my homeboy, Doc, I'd take a bullet for you,
I'm not asking you to take my side in the beef,
But you told me it was okay to say 'Fuck the police!',
Now it's my turn to carry the torch,
And I still got the chain that you wore on the cover o' The Source,
Remember when we got drunk to do Start From Scratch?
I told you you was like a father to me, I meant that!
Sitting here looking at my platinum plaques,
Thinking 'What the fuck am I without a Dr. Dre track?'
When Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like la, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, la, la, la...

[Busta Rhymes]
[Verse 3]
See when the world is on your shoulders, and the stress grows bigger,
The fire in him made it difficult to talk to the n***a,
Most of the time I let him know, I don't agree with what he do,
But he a hard-head, Dre, that's why I'm talkin' to you,
See when I first met my n***a, son was laying in the cut,
Type reserved, homie was quiet and kept his mouth shut,
Until you told him to spit for me, he flippin' from the gut,
I dug his spirit, and I thought the dude was talented as fuck,
And as time went on, and he was working with the finest,
I saw the pressure start to build so I gave additional guidance,
You gave him something that could make or break a n***a you should face it,
So big I don't even think he was ready to embrace it,
With the potential to be a strong n***a with conviction,
The only problem was our little n***a wouln't listen,
But when Doc say it's a wrap, it's a rap,
It's still Aftermath, and ain't nuttin' after that!

[Chorus]
I didn't mean to walk away,
But I hear every word they say,
I guess my mind just drew a blank,
Like La, la, la....
Now I'm sitting in this goddamn cage,
Reminiscing about my day,
Wit' your blood all over my slate,
As the devil says, La, la, la...

[Busta Rhymes]
Aiyo, Game... Aiyo Game! Wake up, n***a!
[The Game]
I'm up man, I'm up...
[Busta Rhymes]
We at your crib, n***a, get the fuck outta the car, n***a, get up, man!
[The Game]
This ain't my house... my house is.... is green!
[Busta Rhymes]
The fuck you talk- look, come on, n***a, let's go man, let me walk you up to
the... come on... n***a where the keys at, n***a we need to open your door,
n***a!
[The Game]
I got love for you, Bus', you my n***a...
[Busta Rhymes]
Nig get in the fucking bed, n***a, go to sleep, n***a, you tired, n***a. And
don't fucking drink like that no more, man, you fucking look like Ned the Wino,
you drunk motherfucker...
[The Game]
Just goin to the studio...
[Busta Rhymes]
(Laughing) Go to sleep, n***a...

[8 Bar Verses]

[Chorus]
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Ridin' by gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied gangs signs Letters on my hat in
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Drive by homicide
R.I.P. tats in Ol' English Westside 'til I die
Niggas pourin' out that Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)

[Verse 1]
Once upon a time in the projects yo
I watched my uncle Greg put D's on his six-fo'
I washed it on Monday so he bought me a gold chain
Shopped crack and watched "Colors" and I soaked up game
Drove the Impala on his lap that was my role model
Used to let me kill the corner of his 40-ounce bottle
On the weekend him and my pops flashed the 'Vette
'Til one weekend my uncle got stabbed to death
He got murdered by a fiend my pops ain't like that
He was from Nutty Block they used to call him Maniac
Crazy ass nigga wit' a Black Panther tat
Kill a nigga cross him out on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older I would understand that
It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved across the tracks
13 that's when I had my first

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
I was the first nigga wit' a Starter jacket on the block
Used to build model cars and let the muthafuckas hop
Moms banged Hoover Crip she was known for sellin' rocks
Let me collect the 40-ounce bottles in the dope spot
Bought my first Converse thought I couldn't be stopped
When I creased up my khakis and threw on my Ronnie Lott
Used to think that I was hard so I stole my brother's glock
And that's the day my life changed 'cause that night he got shot
Killed by another crip over his Rolex watch
I got high for three years off that Chronic from the Doc
I was drinkin' 40-ounces a lot
And every liquor store in Compton sold out the day Eazy dropped
I start bangin' red laces in my ???
Drinkin' out a brown paper bag on my first drive-by
I was a menace to society
But I never left fingerprints on my

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
I got a lot of dead homies some blood some crip
This is life stop watchin' that "Boyz N The Hood" shit
You see this red rag hangin' out of my jeans?
I went to twenty funerals by the age of ninteen
Then I went to college basketball was my dream
Quit the team 'cause I rather shoot rock wit' the fiends
Wanted to be Freeway Rick
He showed me how to trun a stolen 5.0 into a brick
Bought a Cadillac thought I was rich bangin' DJ Quik
On Crenshaw got jacked for my shit
Took a long chronic hit and thought about the time
When I was 12 years old and I emptied my first clip
Hit my first switch same night fucked my first bitch
Thought I was dreamin' 'til I pinched her tits
She caught a stray bullet ridin' shotgun in my shit
So I got her name tatted in

[Chorus]

Ol' English (x4)

California Vacation
[Verse 1- The Game]
Get a blunt, roll the weed, light it up nigga,
Sipping on Gin and Juice fill up your cups nigga,
The Westcoast back crackin' like it's 94',
So bitch get on your knees and give me head like it's 94',
And don't come up for air 'til the beat drop,
I'm the Doctors Advocate call it a sneak peak,
at the mudafukn Detox, take note grab a pen,
And let the world know the west is ridin' again,
I Graduated from Dre's school top of my class,
Treat my switches like my bitches got me dropping that ass,
Still bangin' the chronic like doggiestyle came with it,
And I roll a sticky on my bitch back while I hit it,
I done been there, done that, had beefs and won that,
5 million records on 1 plaque I hung that,
Still got Dr. Dre low ridin' in the 64',
When you see us, throw it up for the fukin' Westcoast.

[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.

[Verse 2 - Snoop Dogg]
Check game, im'a show you how to bang,
Uncle Snoopy is it true you from that money game,
All the time neph' I gotta let my nuts hang,
A chest full of chains a left han' wit' a pinky ring,
I'm in a steeler caps, Swisha Sweets peel em back,
My lil' hood rat, baby got that mini mack,
Baby got that 20 sack, baby got plenty that,
Whatever you send it's my nugga, we gonna send it back
I'm in the club, with the snub, getting' love,
with 20 thousand Crips and 20 thousand Bloods,
And we don't give a fuck about none of ya'll,
And when you hit the city, you better holla at the Big Dogg,
I done seen niggas hit LA and get dey chain snatched,
Then they call me up, beggin' me to get dey chain back,
What I look like the mudafukin Police,
It's certain rules you got to follow, when you in these streets,
Especially when it comes to this Cali shit,
And I ain't talkin' bout hangin' in the valley Bitch,
Gang bang niggas all up in the alley Crip,
On some real talk nigga we the real Westcoast.

[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast.

[Verse 3 - Xzibit]
Damn, I heard blue rag niggas ain't fucking with the red rag niggas,
On the Westcoast (Fuck you mean),
shit from what I seen, red and blue can make green,
Black wallstreet and X-o-leen,
Since jealousy breeds hatred, hatred breeds violence,
Violence breeds enemies more permanent silence,
California alliance, is more important than ever so throw it up,
We low ridin' together (YEAH!)
Make the Westcoast rise forever, esse's B's and C's represent your letter,
Got Game the go getter, Xzibit the rhyme spitter, Snoop Dogg the boss,
We gangster at all costs, ya'll niggas is so soft and pussies so fuck off,
For one of my niggas draw that hammer and dump off,
This kush you gon' cough, (Cough, Cough)
Yeah inhale the smoke, Bandana hang,
Bang the coast my nigga.

[Chorus]
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
We low ridin' in the Westcoast,
So im'a die for the mudafukn Westcoast.
My heart beat for the Westcoast,
We grow the best weed in the Westcoast,
Still low ridin' in the Westcoast,
You should take a trip and visit the West coast

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[The Game]
Gettin' my bang on, red strings on
Luis Vuitton kicks, Luis Vuitton frames on
Luis Vuitton belt holdin' the fo'-five
You know who I am bitch, I'm Mr. Westside

[Daz]
This West West or nothin' - get your pistols, get your flag
Gangstas we love to sag, we cock it back and blast
Like booyaka-booyaka, we lay the party down
G-G-Game, Dogg Pound

[The Game]
Everybody get down

[Kurupt]
Look nigga... I nurture and breed
I ain't never gave a fuck about a bitches needs
And bitch niggaz try to invade our town
I'ma lay 'em down, spray the 'K and get out

[The Game]
Say goodbye to the '6-4, hello to the '6-trey
He ain't never seen hydraulics, look at his bitch face
Up, down - now watch my shit scrape
Daz call Snoop, I'ma Crip Walk to get Dre
and Blood Bounce back, heat on the track
Dribble rock like Wade and bounce like Shaq
Throw a O in the pot and watch it bounce right back
Like that (like that?) like that

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[Daz]
We street connected, respected, I gets pathetic
When I did it I must admit it, so nigga go and rep it
Lil' homies around her constantly on smash mode
Lil' niggaz with pistols that blowin' out your asshole
Bang how we give it, the culture that we live in
Fresh out the hospital or fresh out the prison
Real niggaz for life, the roots of the G tree
N.W.A., Dr. D-R-E

[The Game]
We not S-T-A-R's, we don't put stars in our shoes
Bitch we put the whole car on the shoes
You don't wanna see my car on the news
I'll "Set It Off" like Queen Latifah, red beam on the nina

[Kurupt]
Bang out, chippin' in traffic, dippin' the classic
Dippin' to classics, whoopin' that ass
It's hood niggaz ready to get it, your bitch can get it
Cause I know she'll suck a dick in less than a minute
Cuz, I'ma have to show him where the house at
Two milli macks, semi-automatic situational attack
In the back with a sack, Cadillac all black
Like this and like that
Bang, broken like glass and plastic
Bang out on him with the mask and plastic
We got access to massive plastiques
Purchased last week, D.P.G.C.
Bang

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

[The Game (Kurupt)]
Here come them outta town niggaz, what up Blood?
(What up cuz? They don't even know what 2Pac first album was)
Should I tell 'em Blood? (Nah, fuck 'em loc)
Me and Kurupt three-wheelin' on the hundred spokes
(Dash, brake, bounce and scrape)
Run up on the '6-4, see the AK's
(Bang) like Eazy, (Bang) like Dre
(Bang) like Snoop, (Bang) in L.A.
(Bang) like Crips and Bloods
From now on, wear a Bathing Ape hoodie get stripped in the club
Like a bitch in the club, watch him strip in the club
You like ice creams? Get a banana split in the club
No jewelry, you can't wear shit in the club
And that go for every nigga and bitch in the club
So you better take it off 'fore you get in the club
Game and Dogg Pound along side sittin' on dubs
Remember that

[Chorus]
[K:] You got them funny ass colors on, take it off
[G:] If you in the club with ice on we takin' off
[D:] I thought you was a gangsta nigga, you better shake it off
[K:] What?
[D:] Sh-Sh-Shake it off, or get banged on

Around The World (feat. Jamie Foxx)
[Jamie Foxx]
Ohhh-ohhhhh yeah

[Chorus: Jamie Foxx]
I know you're sick and tired of waitin on me girl
But I'm, just tryin to get my money right
So let some dumb nigga take a flight
So I can take you all around the world
Planes, trains, automobiles
Bentley or a Range, chromed-out wheels
First class ticket, G-4, you that deal
For real (I can take you all around the world)

[The Game]
She like black Bentley Coupes, black Day-tons
Black interior, black ridin shotgun
Black fo'-five, black Air Ones
Bangin "The Black Album," track #1
She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite
If it's gon' get me the pussy I'ma play that shit
If she bite too hard, I'ma say that shit
But don't bite me bitch, I don't play that shit
Marques Houston, I don't play that shit
By the time we got halfway through watchin "Ray" I hit
I laid it down beat it up, let her go clean it up
Take a five minute nap, wake up and eat it, what
The it's part two, in the sauna
Feel like I'm fuckin Mary J. cause she don't want, +No Drama+
I'd rather take yo' ass to the Bahamas
Then give you 30 thousand a month like Diddy baby mama

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Picture me thuggin, picture me lovin you
like Bobby love Whitney now picture me fuckin
Pullin your ponytail smackin you on the ass
Tellin you how (I can take you all around the world)
That nigga can't do it like this
Even Beyonce couldn't move it like this
She only fuck with +Soldiers+, that's her shit
I hate to admit it but I love my bitch
So much, I'm sittin outside in the Benz
Thinkin back to Dre's house when I fucked her best friend
The pussy wasn't nothin; now I'm dealin
with +The Diary of a Mad Black Woman+ with Louis Vuitton luggage
She told me she was tired of The Game and rap
Quit like Ma$e then she came right back
I told you the bitch sex was wack
And you're all I need, even Jamie know that

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[The Game]
You know what they say, more money more problems more drama
means more marijuana and less baby mama
You know I love you like I love my shoes
But even white Air Force Ones come in twos
Yeah, I like her, and I like you too
What's wrong? She my bitch and you my boo
She got a Range Rover Sport, you got a Bentley Coupe
She take my clothes to the cleaners, you take Harlem to school
I gave you your Burkin bags, so I made a mistake
And Oprah don't fuck with them no more anyway
I'm sorry for the bullshit I put you through
But I ain't goin nowhere, I got a kid wit'chu
Why we always gotta argue about Superhead's book?
She sucked my dick with a condom on, after that I shook
And when she start talkin 'bout buyin a ring
I just turn the volume up and let Jamie Foxx sing

[Chorus w/ ad libs]

[Jamie Foxx]
Around the world with me yeah
Around the world with me, ayy
Around the world with me, hey
Mmm, ohh

(Feat. Nas)

[Nas]
Y'all know what it is...
The streets named me Illmatic, for that I'm still at it..
Can't hate us....
Fellas...
[Verse 1]
Vice behind me on the intersection,
Sex and drugs, my anthology on perfection,
Dress superb, admired by conspirers,
Who wanna try me, but ain't high enough to four-five me up,
Child of the eighties, y'all n***as is lazy,
Complain about labour pains, n***a show me the baby,
And my n***a Game, light another L, pass the bottle,
Pro-black, I don't take cotton out of aspirin bottles,
Yeah, I learnt my lessons, and heard y'all snitchin',
Witnessin' you rockin'(?) with Nas, confirmed my suspicion,
Green fatigues on, My n***as I bleed for 'em,
I can show 'em the water, but can't make 'em drink it,
And I can show 'em my fortunes but can't force 'em to think rich,
And still I don't abort 'em (?) when and if they sink quick,
Ignore the ignorance, I rep the brilliance of Queensbridge,
And pray to fans, let Murder Inc. live...
[8 Bars... kind of]
[The Game]
I don't talk about my guns, n***a I just blaze....
[Verse 2]
'Pac is watchin', Big is listenin',
While Pun talkin' to us, Jam Jay still spinnin',
To every n***a listenin'
I was supposed to be amongst kings, my Mom shouted out at my Christening.
And while you still listenin', Shyne locked in a man hole,
Cam got shot inside his lambo', sample, life is a gamble,
15 years old red rag around my hand, My sisters used to laugh and call me
'Rambo',
Seen Eazy's legacy melt away like a candle,
I rekindled the flame,
Dre created The Game,
N***a with an attitude from the cloth I came,
Young homie ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain.
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted,
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down with it,
Now the ball's in my court, never dribble out of bounds with it.
Behind the back to Nas, he alley oop to Jigga, N***a
[8 Bars]
[Verse 3]
Me and nasty puffin', this a classic, trust me,
How you gon' pass the dutchie (?) to them n***as that don't love me,
I'm talkin' n***as that never wanted to see me on top,
Same n***as that never wanted to see the Doctor's Advocate drop, flop, I think
not,
I'll fuck you rap n***as like virgins,
Dre took my training wheels off his curtains.
I don't need no encore, no claps, no cheers,
The Game ain't over, this the beginning of my career,
The ending of yours, the endin of his,
Like Flavor Flav's clock, I'm back to handle my biz,
N*gga, it's Game Time, that was Dre's favorite line,
Back when proof was in the booth and I recited his lines,
And I still think about my n***a from time to time,
Make me wanna call 50, and let him know what's on my mind,
But I just hold back cuz we ain't beefin like that,
He aint Big, and I ain't Pac, and we just eatin off rap.
One love.
[8 Bars]
I'll do Marsha's bit if you want, but it seems kinda pointless.
I thought Nas was on point with his multis, the cotton line is a bit old though.

You Got's To Chill

I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [x8]

[The Game:]
Guess who's bizzack No it ain't hypno
L.A. Dodger fitted cap with the brim low
Blowin' on endo Roll down the window
Matter fact let the top back and watch the wind blow
Black on black lamborghini with the dizzor
Up in the air with the pedal on the flizzor
Bandana tied around the rear view mirror
(Red bandana got 'em bangin' new mirror)
Something on my waist niggas can't get near us
Bitches 'round me shakin ass like Shakira
Niggas poppin' Chrystal everytime they hear us
I stay on niggas mind like a new era

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [x8]

[The Game:]
Doing my two step Red strings on my louis
I don't know how to dance so don't step on my louis
Bitches on the dance floor bouncin' like a pornstar
Legs in the air like the doors on a foreign car
Post it up the bar everybody strizzap
Double GAME chains hanging down to my lizzap
Every nigga in my click stay iced out
Reach for a chain,red beam, turn your lights out
Shut the club down, The Game don't stop
In the parking lot, lemon lime patron shots
Looking for Ciara, heard about the goodies
Hurricanes in a BlackWallStreet Hoodie

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [x8]

[The Game:]
Everybody know when The Game in the clizzub
20 impalas outside on the dizzubs
Everything chrome from the rims to the strizzads
Panties gettin' wet everytime they see 'em lift ups
So hop in the back seat if you're a freak
Three wheel motion got 'em sliddin' on they seat
8 0 8 drums got 'em griddin' to the beat
Turn high beams on bring the club to the streets
If you jump off niggas know what I'm about
Million dollar man bring the drama to yo house
Hommies outside, Wearing that ass out
I'm gettin' a lap dance, Smoking chronic on your couch

[Chorus:]
G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'
I-I-I-I-I-I-I'm Chillin' [x8]

[x2:]
I'm chillin' in the house
Rollin' in the car
Coolin' in the tub
Drinkin' at the bar

Fergie:

(x2)
drinkin drinkin at the drinkin
drinkin drinkin at the bar

The Game:

G to the A to the M to the E to the D to the O to the N to the T to the S to the T to the O to the muthafuckin P
That means I'm Chillin'