Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Certified Gangstas, artist - The Game.
Date of issue: 20.03.2011
Song language: English
Certified Gangstas |
The Game- |
Jim Jones swervin, i got that purple I blow |
Tight grip on the escalade pole |
Yeah harlem just like compton, thats just how i roll |
Red bandana wrapped around the chrome 44 |
Gun smokin like suge’s cigar, show me how you stunt |
Get thrown out of a moving car |
If that thang come come out, its murder she wrote |
If doc come out its 30 impalas on a boat |
Nigga, we do this everyday, llamas under the thermal |
Waitin by your stairs like Mary J |
Beat niggas ride dirty like Jazzy Pha, Cashiss Clay |
Knockin niggas out on the after day |
Bring the mac your way, me and santana |
Blowin in the crowd like Donny Hathaway |
West side blood gang, niggas know what im about |
And they know im ruff rydin so they knock them selfs out |
Bezel: |
Since i made a gang of bucks |
No i ain’t been hangin much |
Still slide through, fly coupes and the change is plush |
Keep the banga tucked, in case i gotta bang a fuck |
Cuz we certified gangstas |
All day we hangin smut dog, wit a gang of ducks |
Hundred grand on our hand, cam got the ranger truck |
Kill wit the deal, still got caine to cut |
Cuz we certified gangstas |
Jim Jones- |
You know i keep my eyes wide, east side high rise |
Its west side lowriders, vest wit the 4 5s |
Yes i fo sho fire, dip low rida, see police slow the ride |
See squalie nigga, cuz they think the rides stolen |
Keep yo head up adn yo eyes open, load the lead up |
While the ride rollin, creep up on em like |
What you say fucka? |
well fuck him, well if he live smoke him |
We dont appeal to the law |
You know we ride this muthafucka |
Till the wheels ll fall off |
And the first bastard get fly |
You know blat blat blat |
Was my reply, 89 wolfpack and be wilin |
P89 pull gats cuz we violent, fuck |
Yea, we put coke on the strip dont quote |
Me boy i ain’t said shit |
Bezel: |
Since i made a gang of bucks |
No i ain’t been hangin much |
Still slide through, fly coupes |
And the change is plush |
Keep the banga tucked, in case i gotta bang a fuck |
Cuz we certified gangstas |
All day we hangin smut dog, wit a gang of ducks |
Hundred grand on our hand |
Cam got the ranger truck |
Kill wit the deal, still got caine to cut |
Cuz we certified gangstas |
Cam’ron- |
Look at the ranges on Glocks, raise our oxs |
I lay on the dock, pump the bass on the pac |
Put the h on our block, in front of H&R Block |
See the face on my watch, put yo face on my cock |
I keep the luger hug, show you how to use the snub |
Whoopty who, fuck around itl be you i plug |
I dont do the drugs, baby i move the drugs |
Right on the computer love, sounds like computer love |
Duck the cop cappas, and the top hatas, fock flavas |
Harlem world we got gatas, not dead i said they alive, lions |
Tigers bears, oh my |
This is straight zoo, a to z, may to april |
Bring the apes through, fuck |
Around youll be ape food, bake food, nine bitches eight dudes |
Diamond visions, great cubes, get it straight fool |
Bezel: |
Since i made a gang of bucks |
No i ain’t been hangin much |
Still slide through, fly coupes and the change is plush |
Keep the banga tucked, in case i gotta bang a fuck |
Cuz we certified gangstas |
All day we hangin smut dog, wit a gang of ducks |
Hundred grand on our hand, cam got the ranger truck |
Kill wit the deal, still got caine to cut |
Cuz we certified gangstas |