The Game - Death Penalty (feat. Fabolous, Eric Bellinger & Slim Thug) | Текст песни

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• The Game
• Death Penalty (feat. Fabolous, Eric Bellinger & Slim Thug)

For not being who you claim you’ve been found guilty
To account of being lame you’ve been found guilty
The charge of fucking up the game you’ve been found guilty
Real niggas sentence you, death penalty

Let’s get that and some bullshit
Weed ride, no punk rates
Everybody acting like they the shooters
Man, I ain’t going for them punk flakes
These niggas is crumb cakes
Wish they would say some slack
Get banged on like the trouble mates
The dumb mistake of tryna jump with Blake
These niggas in my lane, law city in these streets
Jesus piece on my chain, he got with me on these streets
I went through hell just to get where heaven is
Lucy in that red dress, lookin’ devilish
Scale of one to ten she lookin’ elevenish
If she ain’t ridin’ shottie, AK-47 is
Shorty came to me when she left her man
I looked at her and said ‘you’re someone else’
But the best way to get over somebody
I gettin’ under someone else
On that note I’m in that
One, two, three, pin that
Diggy tellin’ me I’m the best
I be yellin’ ‘I’ve been there’
I the club, half a pill and full clip
Get a deal on a Rolls, no bullshit

Dead Roscoe, I’m in that motherfucker like Pacman
Niggas talkin’ ‘bout robbin’, I ain’t goin’ for that Batman
Can get diamonds like super Sunday, hundred thou for that lap dance
See straight through you pussy niggas, I call that a cat scan
On that note we in here, pizza rock, pronto
My gun throw bullets like cave man and my chick run around with that blanco
Extended clip in that console, two mill for that condo
We all shoot for that green, well I ain’t talkin’ no Ronco
Niggas tryna say that I ain’t a G
I point it at them, said ‘you saw a mouse’
See these basketball wires all around my table?
We ‘bout to swim through them like Mike Phelps
Now pop open that ten pack
Your life savings, I spent that
Niggas spend on my instagram
Beggin’ me for their bitch back
Sendin’ threats to my DM
Tryna hack my e-mail
Niggas whisperin’ to their self all hodored up like female
Your bitch ‘bout to get detailed
I ain’t sparin’ no detail
She choked up like street rail
I drop her off in that V12
Ridin’ round with that Houston rocket
Keep all of that Jeremy Linn shit packin’

For not being who you claim you’ve been found guilty
To account of being lame you’ve been found guilty
The charge of fucking up the game you’ve been found guilty
Real niggas sentence you, death penalty
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
The charge of fucking up the game you’ve been found guilty
Real niggas sentence you, death penalty

I’m going back to Cali, I’m going back to Cali
I might’ve drank and drove so I’m going back to Cali
I’d be priced by the cases but it’s bag of big faces
Couple pounds of that cush, I ain’t the only one gettin’ wasted
Smoking lip, cell to wrist, I’m a hustler baby, gotta end this
Get my plus interest, you niggas still ain’t ready yet
I just sold my fourth Bentley, then I got that photo bullshit
‘Bout to switch it up for the summer
Thinking ‘bout that electric karma
Strapped up, got extra armor
In case of haze, make her wanna play
Everything got wrapped in honey, you could check my resume
They don’t make ‘em like this no more
They don’t make ‘em this shit no more
I don’t see too many G’s, I just see a bunch of CB4’s
Let’s get back to that real shit
That pop BIG, UGK kind of trill shit
East-west in the south
If you see a fake nigga, point him out

For not being who you claim you’ve been found guilty
To account of being lame you’ve been found guilty
The charge of fucking up the game you’ve been found guilty
Real niggas sentence you, death penalty
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
Death penalty e e
The charge of fucking up the game you’ve been found guilty
Real niggas sentence you, death penalty

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