I’m On

The Game

Album Hoodmorning (No Typo): Candy Coronas

Hook – Mars

From the East to the West coast
You show me love wherever I go
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on
Got them hoes coming, let’s go
Shawty say I’m a pimp well I guess so
One thing I know is
I’m getting dough, I’m on

Verse 1 – Game

You niggas know who I is, what kind of car I drive
Killa California, the door’s commiting suicide
Bitches ain’t fucking with you unless you in the newest ride
You know me, 5 star nigga, do or die
I’m from the home of the scandalists
East west north south, niggas get lost in Los Angeles
We got the baddest bitches on the north campus
Nigga hopping off the transit, straight up inside a phantom
Stop at the liquor store, get a swisher hit the door
Then hit the hood, ay blood what they hitting for
Whole hood tatted up, bandana right side jeans coming out
Busters leave when it’s nighttime
15s in the trunk hit me ‘fore they see me come
Red 24s no need to ask where I’m from
Westside home of the purp even 12 year olds put in work
West coast got ’em bangin’

Verse 2 – Game

31 still banged out shots let ’em rank out
Walk through any crip or blood hood with his chain out
Grandmomma stay on the shore in the same house
Be on the porch, Dre Beats on with my thang out
That ain’t a threat but little do you forget
I was 20 years old rolling up on nigga’s sets
Coming straight up out the jets, impala sitting wet
Try me in ’em high lows coming up out the tech
Now I’m getting money big Snoop on the texts
Andre Young on the bottom of my check
Fresh from the fade to the bottom of my checks
Matter of fact Chucks, Red cadillac trucks
Panamera red 4’s peanut butter guts
On my Pau Gasol shit hit the block and post up
Then gather the crew hit childs and toast up
Hoes breaking their neck tryna see me close up

Verse 3 – Game

10 million albums sold, I ain’t gotta brag
Disrespect my girl or my kids and get a bodybag
Ak47 with the sawdy rag, niggas better duck cause it ain’t a paparazzi flash
2011 game banging, y’all copycats
How you throwing a stocking cap and they ain’t never cocked it back
Nigga copy that, capiche nigga
Extended clip got 1 bullet for each nigga
Ask nice and I might let you eat nigga
Let you smoke, I keep kush in the pete swisher
Keep the blunts rolled up, phantom 24’ed up
Hop out knockout whole chest froze up
I be in the back of the club looking like so what
20 bottles 40 grand pro’ly why she chose us
Now she in the Beverly Center with her nose up
Pockets 1-0-0-0-0 hold up


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