Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Peep Game, artist - 2Pac.
Date of issue: 31.12.1992
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Peep Game |
So what the fuck you talkin about?! |
Aw, shit. |
Goody, goody, gumdrops. |
Nigaa, get your hoodie and your gun cocked. |
Rock it till the drum stops. |
Hip hop. |
Even if my shit flip flop |
It probably wouldn’t stop. |
Talk shit and get socked. |
How ya hang em? |
Know a realer nigga? |
You could bring him. |
If I don’t represent the shit, |
I’ll kick it. |
We could sway him. |
Huh. |
As if I know ya. |
Then I could show ya. |
But if I don’t know, I gotta fo’fo’fo’ya. |
So, so peep game |
At point blank range. |
The fame can’t change what the game maintains. |
Strange.Wind against the grain. |
Aw shit. |
Flick or no flick I trips for no bitch. |
Catch up on your pimpin. |
I ain’t simpin. |
I’m a dis her. |
Couldn’t be my sister if she actin like I missed her. |
Tell me why they, tell me why they, tell me why they play me. |
Don’t these niggas know that neiter one of y’all can fade me. |
I ain’t big, I ain’t buff, I ain’t deisel. |
But fuck wit Tupac and pop goes the weisel. |
Me and Threat made a bet on how many fellas |
Would jack a motha fuckin real nigga cuz they jealous. |
They do it for the fame. |
Explain. |
Insane. |
What’s in a name? |
What’s in a name? |
Peep game. |
-Chorus repeats- |
Punk bitch, how ya like me now? |
Can’t fuck around wit the funky style. |
Put it together like a puzzle builder. |
If Trenton don’t get cha, pops gon’kill ya. |
Killa Cali. |
The state where they kill. |
Down wit Oaktown? |
What’s up homie, can I chill? |
The bitches lookin funny. |
Feel em at me. |
Feel em at me wit they minds on they heaven |
Wit they .357. |
-Where you at? |
-OK, see you when get here loc. |
-Here I am. |
Here I am. |
-Told ya I was comin. |
Who is that? |
Is that your woman? |
-What's up my nigga? |
What ya know? |
A nigga got a little bigger. |
That’s all folks know. |
Fat gold ropes. |
Gotta keep a low key for my attack. |
When I approach, I want the diamonds, the pearls. |
The round the way girls. |
Cuz baby got, baby got back out this world. |
Would you give a fee? |
Never. |
Fly like a feather. |
Make more money than your father and your mother put together. |
The game is to be sold, not to be told. |
So buy it. |
Can’t afford it? |
Low budget hoes gotta brother. |
Peep game. |
-Chorus repeats- |
Don’t sell out. |
Get the hell out. |
Cuz here I come. |
Hit em with my bop gun. |
They came and they blast. |
We got witt they ass. |
And oh, pop this vest and all the rest of that mess. |
Comin through like Terminater 2. |
Boost your crew cuz we ain’t afraid of you. |
You know what time it is wit me once the clock stike 3. |
We goin coo-coo like Cocoa Puffs. |
Whooo eeii!!! |
-Chorus repeats- |
Time to get paid, time to get paid. |
Check. |
Time to represent the west. |
On me: nuttin but a vest. |
Got my hands on my glock, eyes on the prize. |
First sucka jump, first sucka die. |
Gimme mine, gimme mine, gimme mine like I told ya. |
Hard as a boulder. |
Motha fuckin souja. |
Boom bam boom! |
It’s a stick up. |
Vice president Dan Quayle eat a dick up. |
Peep game. |
-Chorus repeats- |
(Spoken by Tupac) |
Punk motha fucka. |
Fuck all those motha fuckas, they all can eat a motha fuckin dick up. |
Word up. |
Fuck the police. |
I don’t give a fuck. |
Bobcat in this motha fucka boy. |
Big up! |
Big up! |
To the criminals. |
Fuck em. |
~this is serious business.~ |
Yeah, microphone mafia. |
Tupac, Threat, Bobcat. |
93 shot. |
Yeah nigga, bitch. |