Outro (Red Bandana)

The Game

Album Stop Snitchin, Stop Lyin


Not! *echoing*
Blackwall Street
The Game
Beach Boy
Charli Baltimore (he wears a red bandana)
We are the Black Gang
Free Shyne
Motherfuckers! (he wears a red bandana)


On the front of murder talk (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world know (he wears a)
Every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the NYPD (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell ’em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the Pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)

Verse 1

Chea chea
Dear God let me clense my soul, throw away all the rims and the gold
O no I can’t do that, do I love God? True dat, but I got a gun so move back
I’m loco like 5 eses in the side of Chevelle ridin on low pros
I’m a renegade, ride with the 44, been a gangbanger all my life, fuck the popo
I ain’t never been a cocky kid, know they could kill me if they shot Pac and Big
But I let my bandana hang, in the city of angels we gangbang
I move that chronic and yayo, way before I met 50, Banks, Buck and Yayo
Ask Eminem, even Dr.Dre knows, I put one in last ten in the range rov
Used to push that rock like Jay Hov, you better lay low when the ak blow
Or get wings and a halo, run to the hood and tell ’em I’m the nigga they gotta pray for
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I said run to the hood and tell ’em
I’m the nigga they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low

Verse 2

Chea chea
I’m a gangbanger don’t get it fucked up
You ain’t never bang, you ain’t never laces chucks up
So how the fuck you gonna criticize me
I ain’t the reason niggas is bangin the NYC
Makin bullshit threats on the M.I.C
I don’t wake up in cold sweats when I sleep
I live comfortably, with a red rag tied
Around the 45 in case nigga try to come for me
Mad cause I started my own company
I don’t know what the fuck niggas want from me
Except something for free
Before The Documentary dropped, you bitch niggas wasn’t bumpin me
And to some degree, I gotta keep that 4-5th under me, I don’t run from beef
It’s either cock back, squeeze
Or be underneath cause I’m from the streets of (Compton)
And my grandmother died before I was multi
Wasn’t raised right cause my parents was both high
High off cocaine, my introduction to the dope game came in 85 watchin soul train
Mama told me I was the future, and one day I’d be fly like Soul Plane
Just don’t bang/ but back then
I’d do anything for a jheri-curl and a gold chain
Niggas always got something to say
Like they ain’t never bumped N.W.A
Punk niggas talk shit, but when they need hits
They swallow they fuckin’ pride and come runnin’ to Dre
Niggas come to LA when they need to talk
Cause Kanye told everybody Jesus Walks
Bush killed more niggas in the towers then gangbanging ever did
That’s why they need New York


Yeah motherfuckers
Chuck Taylor
Oh you thought I forgot about that alias huh?
I’m going back to my roots
G-Unit is dead
As a staff, a record label, and a motherfuckin group
Your clothes can’t sell
Your shoes are straight garbage
Your movies suck!
Chicken Little killed you nigga
Hahahaha *echos*
How you like it nigga
I took your style
I ain’t doin no third verse
I’m just talk to you nigga
Like you do when you get mad at me cause you can’t fuck with me lyrically motherfucker
You gonna do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks
You like the rap Linsey Lohan you fuckin faggot
Write 8 bars about me nigga
I do this shit all day 50!
Curtis Jackson
Boo Boo
Marcus… Snitch
Blackwall Street C.E.O. motherfucker!
Hurricanes in stores December 26th
Stop Snitchin Stop Lyin the DVDs in stores December 6th
It’s a tell all nigga
Wait till my movie come out
I’m glad it ain’t based on my life
With that knock off 8 Mile shit
You could never be Eminem motherfucker
You ain’t lyrically inclined enough to be Jay-Z, Nas, B.I.G. or Pac
And in the modern day… today, tomorrow, next week
You can’t fuck with The Game nigga!

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