| A little bit of game is all it takes
|
| A little bit of game goes a long long way
|
| Cuddie I dont sleep much, 'cause when I close my eyes
|
| I hear cries from my potna’s who lost they lives
|
| Visions of bloody brutality’s reality
|
| Gotta stay focused and hope it dont affect my salary
|
| Them calories, they keep my pockets fat, I got to stack a grip
|
| Try not to trip, and keep them gold diggers off my dick
|
| I’m gettin’sick 'cause I drink 24−7
|
| The way I’m livin’now, if I die, theres no heaven
|
| Gotta help my potnas in the pen 'cause they livin’broke
|
| This aint no joke, on parole and I cant smoke
|
| No sticky indo, roll down the window
|
| 'Cause if I breathe (?) the task is back ??? |
| like Nintendo
|
| Gotta play the game like a professional
|
| If you aint having money I got to let you go I need to let you know the rules before you ???
|
| Rule number one potna, never should you pimpatrate
|
| I spit this pimpin’straight and cut no addatives
|
| Just nouns and adjectives, how mad you get dont mattter bitch
|
| I’m a player so I serve the game
|
| Maintain campaign, and have thangs
|
| Back in '92 I was drowned in them big cases
|
| But now its '97 and I’m counting them big faces
|
| I switched places with them sardines and squares
|
| The ??? |
| fillet mignon, and garlic bread
|
| A hard head, big heart, and gorilla nuts
|
| Got me mobbin’thru the bay like I dont give a fuck
|
| I’m whipped, equipped, and stay dipped in butter sauce
|
| Pill if shes real, no scrill I cut her off
|
| 'Cause fine ass bitches with the empty bank book
|
| Is worse than them ugly muthafuckas who cant cook
|
| My game cooked for five years in the feds
|
| Now its time for these game hungry niggas to get fed
|
| I get bread, so them suckas down me Smile in my face but clown me when they not around me Talk down on my every move, but I couldnt give a damn
|
| Playas do what they want, and suckas do what they can
|
| 7−5-70, my DOB, uhh
|
| And I’ve been breakin’hoes since '83, what?
|
| Money makers manual, handle my business discretly
|
| Dont give my home phone number out, beep me
|
| 'Cause aint no tellin’who be tellin', or who they tell
|
| And plus I heard that they be sellin’kinfolk the yayo
|
| Boy get your mail, dont act like your lil sista
|
| If you lackin’in this mackin’boy I bet you fist her
|
| Get some get right as I come tight to this Doo Doo Dumb
|
| Track, that cat K-Lou, knew how to come
|
| With Mac Dre, that 3 C veteran
|
| More game than March Madness, and dope as exederin
|
| Hit big licks, wouldnt pull no small capers
|
| I’m a be a dog and stay up like wall paper
|
| Look at these break bitches like they stank
|
| Collect my bank and stay sharp as a shank |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song All It Takes , by - Mac Dre. Song from the album The Best Of Mac Dre II, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп