Lyrics Early in the Game - Naam Brigade, Freeway

Early in the Game

Uh oh!
Uh oh!
Another one!
Uh oh!
Uh oh!
Another one!
Make Free and I’ll fuck you up, you up!
I’m with the NAAM Brigade so warn your boys
you better, arm your boys
I snatch don’t go and get paid
I crack eggos, break gats down like Legos
Bring 'em home for toys
Mami bitch roll on my woods
If you can’t roll through the hood
Play like Snoop Dogg and lay low
Go peep Rambo, on five-eight
and them two door eight-five-o like its nine tray
My dough, my flow heavyweight
hit stages, rock mics pull dykes
Every state--wait, can’t forget where I’m from
Dump narcotics, grip nines rock Nikes
Everyday me and Sonny Black roll with the K Flip ya Cadillac, bloody you lay (what the beat say?)
Another one (bites the dust)
Don’t make Freeway fuck you up!
Shoot up your way!
We got the streets on smash
Clubs on smash;
chicks we gon’smash (early in the game)
And we got flows, who want drama?
We got gats leave bullet holes in cats
We got the charts on smash
and yo’click trashed;
act up and get smashed (early in the game)
And we got hoes, who’s your sister?
We got caps leave chickens with pecks
Chicks the ing bars to minimum
Niggas see me start trembelin
Head shots I’m sendin them
Serve niggas like Wimbeldon
I’m thug got you feminene
I tuck more shit than Eminem
Blaze baretta bullets I like beats from Timbaland
Niggas see me say thats him again
He all about them benjamins
Tried to change my ways but God know I’m gon’sin again
Smokin drinkin gin again
Bad bitches, got ten of them
Cop two trucks got ten in them
Cop coke off Dominican
Blaze my mac 10 again
Hot lead I put it into them
Blood rush my adrenaline
Ain’t tryin to see the bin again
Killin all y’all men and them
To hell is where I’m sendin them
Caskets is what I’m endin them
Forever they gon’live in them
Any nigga thats scared of em or any fuckin friend of them
I send your ass to visit him
Dressed in that suit and lizards skins
Now look at all this shit you in You know you wadn’t fit to win
M-Dot, who hot?
You know I come to get it in If that block used to get paper
Then throw that work on it Broady your flow ain’t shit
You need to work on it Fat asses hit em hard from the back
It hurt don’t it?
And that nigga got what in the stash?
Went right on it Playa that money talk
Gats’ll make 'em sumersault, like gymnastics
When the mac spit, you’ll lay in caskets
Y’all only hot for a minute
We makin classics, got mad clips
and we get through metal detectors, gats is plastic
I’m a thug, raised around drugs and niggas who ain’t never have shit
Wherever the clubs at, my homies gon’crash it 1:45 roll in with somethin early
that go in smashin 'em
We don’t keep hammers for nothin
We gon’be blastin 'em
You know that slogan
True playa from the Himilyah
Hit her for years and I never had to spend or pay her
Names is ringin, niggas is singin
Waist line on the wrist playa, it can change the season
— repeat 2X