Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Check Your Game, artist - Ice T. Album song 7th Deadly Sin, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 24.10.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Check Your Game |
| It’s 99 players check your game |
| Make sure them young boys respect your name |
| Keep your heaters at close reach cocked and ready |
| Cause the streets will catch you slipping, rock ya steady |
| Watch your back with your homies that you feel is real |
| Your homeboys from your crew, yeah them the ones that do you |
| The suckas that got the player hater venom |
| I wanna take 'em outside and lay some slugs up in em |
| When they need work |
| They call the cali drug expert |
| Smashing in a six hundred dollar bill burnt |
| Looking flossy living costly |
| Off the edge, out of state |
| They gots to break bread, for sho |
| I needs mo' ice drops for the lexo |
| Briggetts sets blow when I’m sipping the mo' |
| Freelancing, trying to build a mansion |
| And stay faded |
| Have hoes walk around my crib butt naked… |
| True, pop the remy kick back and let the players represent |
| High floss true boss game and take aim |
| These sucka wannabe’s |
| Nigga please — you’re green |
| I’ll bend hoes on the downlow — banks obscene |
| Wanna chill with these niggas, bet you wish you could |
| And suck game out my ass like sponges |
| I run this |
| You can’t fuck with the steelo |
| You niggas wanna be low |
| When I’m on the east I play ceelo |
| Cash flow |
| One track mind serial hustler |
| Quick to break a buster ya snitch bitch? |
| I’ll dust ya |
| Bentley ballin' bastard |
| No hustler faster |
| Game maker |
| I knock a white bitch and break her |
| But Ice, Chronic got me bruising my brain |
| But soothing my pain, I’m true to the game |
| I got my mind made I gotta be that rich motherfucker |
| Set it up so my grandkids don’t suffer |
| The phat hummer |
| The phat drummer — what’s your choice? |
| Trying to find a sister with a voice |
| Make her moist |
| I’m throwing up the W |
| Bringing trouble to |
| Those in sight |
| King T and Big Ice |
| But T that’s trippin' and that ain’t my sport |
| I’d rather lamp in my crib and flip the Robb report |
| And set my v-dozen on the streets |
| Bump my beats |
| Cause when I’m twisting my dubs |
| Can’t nobody compete |
| Imagine this: |
| A hundred G 'lex on your wrist |
| Imagine this: |
| About ten karrots on your fist |
| Imagine this: |
| All dime hoes on your list |
| Ha — that shit would be nice |
| But your name ain’t «Ice» — kid… |
| I’ll screw the silencer on — rock you softly |
| How you gonna step to me kid? |
| You grew up off me |
| TV, Movies, and Records and Tours |
| So many busters wearing Versace I don’t wear it no more… |
| But this will be a classic |
| Many facets to get that ass kicked |
| The alchoholic Don, call me King Tragic |
| Watch me speak the magic |
| Watch me teach that old habit — full of havoc |
| And Ice’ll tweak the mix when it statics |
| People pay |
| Just to have me stay |
| And say a verse |
| I’ll freak a couple words unrehearsed |
| Then I burst |
| I mean I bust |
| From all angles |
| Guarunteed platium on your single |
| Yo T, I really must admit I’m blessed |
| Master V does some other shit TV’s in the head rests |
| Never wear no vests because I got mad love |
| I catch respect when other niggas catch slugs |
| 1, 2 I bust shit to load guns to |
| Beats for the hoodlums |
| Somebody’s gotta do’em |
| Fed’s screw 'em |
| Faggot’s got my whole crib bugged |
| Mad tapps on the phone cause I deal with the thugs |
| Drugs? |
| never |
| No, the Ice is too clever |
| I’m overseas |
| Checkin G’s |
| Nigga please |
| Ballin' since the 70's — yeah baby |
| Blew up in the 80's |
| Now you niggas hate me |
| You can’t see me motherfucker your focus is off |
| You can’t be me motherfucker, you’re broke and you’re soft |
| Too many niggas try to pert my lifestyle — romancing |
| I was kickin game while them kids was breakdancing |
| Overlord — so why the wack niggas ain’t dead? |
| Probably because my aim is over nigga’s heads/ |
| East coast — west coast, I play the whole map and bounce/ |
| They got a benz but live in their mom’s house… |
| To all my G’s rock on |
| Get your ride on — when you hear it |
| The forbidden Gangland lyric |
| Player Haters fear it |
| Get you right up close near it |
| Possessed by the Eazy-E spirit |
| Ice-T set the limit |
| And niggas won’t cross this line |
| Suicide — and niggas won’t cross this nine |
| In your mouth |
| Puffin' with my niggas down south |
| What the fuck this really all about? |
| man. |
| I’m coming out |
| Front and back, 98 brougham |
| All you fake G’s stay home |
| Leave that shit alone |
| King Tee’s back on the throne |
| And that nigga on the mic — straight gone |
| Cra-zy, y’all niggas wanna know the real deal? |
| I’ll freestyle and smack you in your grill |
| Bomb lyrics, no special effects or gimmicks |
| The Syndicate will put you in the mix — biatch… |