| Holler at a player though
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| 40 Water, what’s wrong wit the game though?
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| I don’t know
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| Holler at a player though
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| 4-Tay, what’s wrong wit the game though?
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| I don’t know
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| I keeps my distance from haters cause I’m quick to flash
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| Area takes me with a passion, I tap that ass
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| Be quick to blast, the game just ain’t the same no more
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| You doing too much, pump your brakes, slow your roll
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| Fucking up the hustle with the streets and shit
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| It’s too much legal tender on my agenda to bite our fame
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| But if you play me, I gots no choice to reach you in check
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| They playing with a full deck, you can get the breakfast, say thanks
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| See I’m a business man with a set of big balls
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| Marketing meetings and, uh, got Frisco
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| Just ain’t your work for a living (uh huh)
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| They got hit, what the fuck?, you think I been got shit?, it ain’t easy
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| Everyday now walk through the streets
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| A nigga can’t even sit down with his family
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| And be straight and have a decent dinner
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| Without a motherfucker yelling, Refalations
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| What I got to do to get you in my compilations? |
| (compilations)
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| So I study what I do, the shit for you for free (for free)
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| I used to do that to a nigga when I was seventeen (uh, uh)
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| What’s the world coming to when niggaz talk down for fun
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| Some Rappin'4-Tay you don’t make me dumb
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| Pop a cherry, we don’t mean that much
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| Cause if it don’t make dollars I don’t really give a fuck
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| Jocking all up under my name but you don’t even know me Got me fucked up and one of them suckers when they so called homies
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| If that’s the shit, better pause and magnum or Crip, they ready to paint us When niggaz go against the great 40 Water, what’s wrong with the game?
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| I’m ten years hung in this shit, if I was up to heart
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| My nigga got dick, her is his, by selling chicks in front of his car
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| Got a crib with 9,000 square, Christine and Marsha, will you just imagine?
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| Big ass improving for Maximus, big ass, let’s fetch it I seen it in my dream when I was nine years old
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| My Momma always told me to achieve my goal
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| Keep a cool bid and, uh, respect a dollar
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| Never get too greedy for the money and power
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| The reason I carry glocks, 26 on my side of my hip
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| Cause I ain’t dumping now (dumping now), thinking of now a days
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| They act like you owe something (something)
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| Talking about, 40, show me some love!, (show me some love!)
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| Because I got a, a despot im my blood
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| Niggaz want to knock ME
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| Cause I don’t blossom like a sunflower SEED
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| Surrounded by promises, you said that you keeps me smoking big WEED
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| Drinking while sipping Ale (sipping Ale) yes INDEED
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| Born and raised in Vallejo (eeehhhh!)
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| They claim they got solid rockets
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| So all my true player partners, y’all just stay focused
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| And watch them haters cause they plots on a daily basis
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| Hustlers, servants, traders that caught so many dope cases
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| And but I want the quickness if the G’s is right
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| If that game was tight, ballers had pimped at it, ain’t no such thing as three strikes
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| No sense, our fucking minds aren’t, but I’m on parole and shit
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| Niggaz get to running off at the mouth just like a snitch, some like a bitch
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| Ehhh!, Ehhh!
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| What’s wrong wit the game?
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| Can’t get caught off with the game
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| Just get my chips and get paid
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| Holler at a player though
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| 4-Tay, what’s wrong wit the game though?
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| Holler at a player though
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| Holler at a player though
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| 4-Tay, what’s wrong wit the game though?
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| Huh? |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What's Wrong Wit The Game, artist - Rappin' 4-Tay. Album song 4 Tha Hard Way, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп