Lyrics Learn the Game - Lord Superb, Raekwon

Learn the Game

We going through a cycle
That’s all, you going through a spin circle right now
Yeah… yo… yeah… yo… yeah… yo… yo, yo…
Ain’t no honor amongst blunts and get high, the real’ll let the clip fly
Don’t say a word, nigga gon' get got
Jail stories from the sixties, enlighten us to move richly
Let’s break a brick down, this is the shit, G
Quarter water money add up, next thing you know
My niggas bagging up, garbage bags and shit, imagine us
Bank robbers and shit, gangstas that ain’t involved with shit
Can’t even arg', dick, bring an armed quick
Realer nigga let go, his neck blow, son be intimidated
Start your hating, I’m formulating
Rum at the glass table, I’m all Nike’d down, glass bangles
One rock, that’s flashy on the ankles
Benz stations and X5's races, sit Immobilize paper
Shake down Vegas and own acres
Large sum of this change, Allah bought to me with a blue range
A crew that be spitting them things
I’m a hydro plane when I rhyme, let’s do it for the crew lines
No radio, faggot, reveal a new shine
It’s old money, mines used to stealing
Run up in bank trucks, start peeling and jailing, holding buildings
Point cat, nigga gon' die for that, make a casket round
Won’t get found, read about your raps
Yo, a wiseman once said, before you play the game, learn to move
It’s a game of life, learn the rules
Either you live or die, bust your heater
But respect you leader, never bite the hand that feeds you
The DJs?
That thought I was foul
Pardon me, I was just too dusted to smile
Don’t think I’m fronting, when I rock my mustard crocodile
That’s my style, my whole crew, Penal Moscow
You UFO’s acting like ya’ll beyond we
You can get smoked like a jar of neon weed
Ain’t none of ya’ll flakey lasts beyond me
I couldn’t be a rapper, Perb was a don in the streets
While you, busting your brain, I’m dawning the beads
I fuck with RZA, you better honor my beats
I’m very small, so honor my heat
My whole famil' ill, even my aunt’s in the street
Laundry crack money, spend 48 track money
Amp ya dap money, bulletproof sound mic money
Fuck paper, ya’ll niggas kite hungry
FBI, C.O., and P.O.
friendly
Ya’ll serve a cop Remy, turn the music up loud and
Rae’s my gun, shoot 'em down
Look like a video, the on-lookers, til it’s time
To pick, cops up, and pick brains up
They should of picked man up, hook Dana Dane up
It’s my year, my whole block living laid up
Salute all the hood in me, the days fly off
I’m just lampin' elevator music, laying in the Waldoff
Tongue be swifter than a race horse, fresh cut
Blazing a gauge off, analyze the days, dog
Running up in spots, carrying knots
Marrying blocks, salaries is carrying cops
Call it the Jim Thorpe theory, Olympic minds quick, catch on
We used to switch nines, glowing on the Ferry
Renaissance Rembrandts on, ready to spray a cop
Eight shots, that hold weight and hold slots
Hands like Dusty, a mind like magnetic clusty
The Louis Rich saga, that’ll dutch me
Tree of life suit on, big thick gem with his loot on
Rocks that’ll freeze up a uniform
Major live feed out, Fila bubble with the heat out
Dedicated to ya’ll, with my meat out