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The Game - 400 Barz | Текст песни

t's been a long time, get re-acquainted with the world famous
You know how on point my aim is
Long range sniper's, clash of the titan's, chrome pipen'
In this 300 like Leonidas
Snub in the bubblegoose, riding down the interstate
Where fiends put them needles in they arm and let 'em penetrate
Leanin' sideways with my fitted straight
The 27's on point, the paint job a New York minute late
Check my Audemar, no cloud's in my stones
Project's ringin', standin' by the corner store
Two Glocks on me, BANG BANG if you wanna war
That was '05, now we ballin' on this tour
Screamin' out "Thug Life", pourin' Belve on ya whore
Money I'm involved with it, wake up and ball with it
Kobe/Gasol with it, uncut raw with it
Chop bricks take trips ot
Before I had a goatee, I used to bag the Oz
(Yeah, fish-scale nigga, What up Ghost!?)
Then stash 'em by the oak tree, move it by the coke leaf
Drama let the llama Knick niggas like Charles Oakley
Nigga don't insult me, I banana boat B.R.C.K.S.'s
And stuff 'em in the Lexus
I'm sitting fat like Precious, Christ up on the necklace
And I keep them clips on a dresser
Yes sir, I'm bout to ball, Louis bag the fuckin' mall
Bitches, money and fast cars, nigga I want it all
(Yeah, word to my kids nigga, I want it all)
Nascar Game, why the fuck would I stall!?
I'm the franchise nigga, Chris fucking Paul!
Empty out the cannon hit ya bitch, you the truck and all
Withdrawal 200 thousand, and then FUCK it off!
King of the hill, gotta dime bitch cuttin' raw
She bagged the last nick', I unzip, she suck it soft
Black Superman, yeah, I'm above the law
I put this hollowtip a quarter inch above ya jaw
Eat out a FUCKIN' straw!
Blindfold your bitch toss her in the trunk
After the first 48 that bitch smellin' like a skunk
It's a wrap, I rap, when I wrap the punk
Throw me in the gang module and tell 'em wrap the bunks
The breakfast club nigga, no Captain Crunch
This for my dog nigga's that eat cat's for lunch
I'm hungry like I ain't trapped in month's
So nigga act and stunt, my Glock pack a punch
Or I can Heckler-Koch, and seal your pine box
Leave your head wrapped for months, while I pass the blunt
To my niggas, we all Roc'd out, what's up Jigga?
Sometimes I be in BK, with Fab' on the freeway
Lincoln Continental and I copped it off a eBay
I pop cham. like it's my b-day, horse power
Under my hood like it's an olympic relay
My flow right on time, no delay
I raise a million dollars, send it off to Chile
(Word to my red cross, I don't fuck with the Red Cross)
I'm All-Madden nigga, EA, I'm in VA
Money talks with Dre and Pharrell on 3-Way
Them 28's, that's my DJ, they spinning shit
When I took trips OT, I never rented shit
I just drop then cop, and then I tinted shit
Diddy and Mike Epps, I'm All About The Benjamins
In it for the benefits, I'll be down in Ten to 6
Tell 'em get me a Porterhouse and some eggs-Benedict
Damn that was good, but I'm still hungry
And I'm living it, I be out in Venice, shit
They say Weezy-Jordan, nigga I'm on my Pippen shit
They say Drake-Lebron, I'm on my Moe Williams shit
If T.I.P. is Kobe then fuck it, I'm Derek Fisher, shit!
Long as I'm in the starting five, I'm a get it in
Cause I promised the city of Compton, I would get it in!
I was OutKast'd... Andre Benjamin
Now I slide through with my Dominican woman friend
(She like puttin' No Ceilings in, yeah)
Giuseppe Heels, expensive wines, Perri seal
It ain't tricking, I just spend money on cheap thrills
Big Phantom's, sweet wheels
Back seat like a club, make them bitches eat pills
Take Patrone shots to the purse with chrome Glocks
Jay Electronica, this a dome shot
So I had to steal it, nigga I had the kill it!
I was the turtle in the race, I made the rabbit feel it!
(Yeah, keep runnin' nigga)
Housing by the subway, feel it through the projects
Come through the Murcialago, a foreign object
Number one prospect, the day that I was drafted
Aftermath-matic unleashed a fuckin' bastard!
Don't respect none of you niggas, get in the casket!
Talking ratchets, never touched a fuckin' automatic
Drama this is tragic, put it in the plastic
88 bars and runnin', throw it with my other classics
(Drama you should've warned these niggas, I'm bout to kill 'em)
Yeah, trash bag it, this is crack
And I know you been fiendin' for this, come get your packs
I do it for the music nigga, fuck the Plaques
Ain't on no beef shit, but it's still FUCK the rats!
And when I'm in New York, I set a bunch of traps
Put the cheese where they can see it, and if you stunt, you clapped
Catch 'em in the club, that's when I stomp 'em flat
Nigga get up after that, go get a fucking bat
(I tell you bout these fucking rats!)
They either snitch or bend over to catch
No matter how you look at it, I hate fucking rats!
Get my bottle of Ciroc and I twist the cap
Sit back watch the NBA play-offs and roll a bat
Yeah, real fat, yeah, all I do is stack bread
In the hood on the wall like a fucking Phathead
Two nines on your back, Warren Sapp, yeah!
This my block and you niggas can't trap here
Unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped, yeah
I'm killing niggas, I should have a hundred tat tears
Celebrate your death, toast bottles and clap beers
It's gon' be a cold summer, come through like burr!
The red Phantom bullshittin, the 25, Steve Kerr
The beat insane, Just Blaze in this mothafucka
The cars outside, the 'K is in this mothafucka
I should let off a couple strays in this mothafucka
Fuck that, I'm tryna get laid in this mothafucka
(Yo, tell your friends to get with my friends... Yeah)
Meet me in the parking lot, license plate Aftermath
Screamin' out "Fuck 50", wouldn't snitch for half his cash
If he wasn't such a bitch, nobody would've had to blast
They stood us down in Jacksonville, don't make me have to wrap ya Jag'
Cause I rather be in Saint Tropez, unpackin bags
With bitches that speak French, how you say: "catch a cab"
I don't trip Euros, I don't trip Pounds
I bowlin' ball bitches, till I knock 'em all down
(Like the '93 Pac, I Get Around)
Duffles by the staircase, crack by the backdoor
Navigate my way through the South, I used to trap ho
All the way through Queensbidge moving packs yo
Might've lost a couple friends, but I got my gat though
Blast fo', my Rap foes could never stop my cash flow
Had a Nike box of hundreds, when I was in that RAV4
But now I pull up in that truck with the crash board
With the mag low, give you everythin you ask for
Sometimes, I can be a fucking asshole
In the bank with my mask on, look at this nigga A-R
Don't take your fucking mask off, bitch empty out the cash drawer
We on a suicide mission, but we don't give fuck
Cause if we make it out, bigger house bigger truck
I'm in a strip club with a Glock, nigga what!?
Gimme your bitch, she got a cuter face and bigger butt
I ain't gon' do shit but pour champagne on her
Hit it from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her
(Don't put that back on, too many cum stains on it)
Run a train on her, call Cartoon
Have 'em tattoo my name on her, Star Trak too
You know what? Fuck it, Aftermath too
Put a little smoke around it then take it home and pound it
Helicopter outside, nigga I'm surrounded
Had a spot in the Jungles till the fuckin Fed's found it
Momma, your son got a public announcement
I got 5 million in the walls and the couches
(Don't even think about it... We got cameras, dogs and guns)
Ask Pe-Pe, he was there, he can vouch it
Throw it in the trashcan on some Oscar The Grouch shit
A bunch of green popped out, time to re-route shit
Settle down in Mississippi, gotta down South click
And my niggas like, "we ain't know all about this"
And any nigga ever snitch, got his fuckin' mouth fixed
You get 25, he get his fuckin' throat slit
Cut 'em like Filet Mignon and throw em off a boat, bitch!
Feed 'em to the sharks then dock the yacht
Oil in the water, damn the ocean so thick
Time to finish off his niggas on some trench coat shit
It's a drug war, real life, Grand Theft
Catch you in the streets fuck you up and hit ya man next
Come through on some retarded shit, just sprayin' techs
Where my dogs at? tell 'em I'm crazier then DMX
Lazier then Chinese eyes, when I'm puffin that
Blueberry, I ain't talking where the muffins' at
(Roll up the sour diesel if you want nigga)
I split open the dutch, then I'm stuffin' that
You should get a flight to California, come fuck with that
That's all you, go ahead, hop in the truck with that
Take it down in Cashville and hit Young Buck with that
Don't bring nothin' back, Border Patrol cuffin that
I ain't trying see the pen, and have to get my knuckles wrapped
I wake up real early, keep lunchin fags
This shit easy, you Rap niggas my punchin bags
(I got some combinations nigga, Pacquio shit)
Talkin 'bout you poppin tags, talkin 'bout u poppin Cris'
Where u get it poppin at? Nigga u ain't poppin shit
But a X pill, as I turn the Lex' wheels
I got a mean Phantom, very upset grill
Tell'em why you mad son, that nigga pulled a fast one
You know who you are, when I see you that's ya ass son
But I'm in the club, throwi

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