Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song About This Game, artist - Swifty McVay. Date of issue: 13.12.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
About This Game |
| Just be careful what you asking for before you pray |
| You have no clue what you be headin' for; |
| this ain’t a game |
| All my life, not knowing which way to go |
| But I became the man I am |
| From learning what I know about this game |
| Game done changed |
| I don’t bang like I used to |
| Shots ring, slugs go through you like Metamucil |
| You’re just a poodle in the ring with a dragon |
| I spit fire; |
| sipping kerosene |
| And laughing at these Dr. Seuss rappers |
| They’re making me miserable |
| With horrible punchlines |
| And can’t-connect syllables |
| I was a little man |
| Rippin' up niggas in elementary |
| While others was playin' |
| I was staring in them notebooks, praying |
| And putting in order |
| Taping videos on VHS recorders |
| They couldn’t ignore us |
| I’m getting this regardless |
| Bogarting, I weigh in like a Spartan |
| Lyrical marksman |
| Heart made of steel |
| Quick to blow up like Howie Mandel |
| «What a deal,» or no deal… |
| It didn’t matter, I still was gonna rise |
| To the top of this buildin' |
| That’s for real! |
| Ha! |
| Tape recorders to reel the reels |
| And that was great |
| I graduated from 8-Dash to D-88's |
| Now we in the age of the Pro Tool phase |
| And everybody & their mama think they got game |
| They hang with niggas |
| They can’t tell 'em they ain’t dope |
| They’re scared they gon' hurt their feelings, and in the same note |
| Let 'em do a show- step on stage |
| And when the little niggas froze |
| All you’d see is tomatoes (Ha!) |
| Imma make sure that they know |
| This ain’t a game, yo! |
| Water your passion, let it grow, then flamethrow |
| When kids was outside, I decided to stay home |
| Writing to get tighter |
| Sold dope at night |
| And then I counted my bankroll |
| But never did get rich |
| I ate lobster and shrimp, and copped me some new kicks |
| But as far as this music, it ruled everything |
| Like C.R.E.A.M did Wu-Tang |
| I learned some new things! |
| (What!) |
| I paid my dues twice, and I ain’t lying |
| That’s one in the hood and the other after I signed |
| Now I’m fine and steadily flyin' |
| Jets that hold 12 passengers at a time |
| I’ve traveled this whole world, but fuck Vietnam |
| If I wanted to get bombed |
| I’d go back home… |
| The neighborhood change when a nigga get on |
| They looking at you strange when you don’t give 'em something |
| But soon as you do, it becomes a habit |
| Then they askin' you every day |
| You don’t know these bastards (What!) |
| These hood rats throwin' you pussy like Mike Jackson |
| If you hadn’t signed, none of this shit would’ve happened |
| Niggas running up to you |
| Rapping like «Sign me!» |
| Grimey niggas trying to come onto your dime piece |
| They out they mind! |
| They keep bugging you; |
| it’s stress and |
| Instead of learning lessons, they’re painting perceptions |
| They’re always commanding, never understanding |
| I’m hearing rumors how they wanna hold me ransom |
| The hood check you and try to see if you’re still real |
| And take you in an after-hours, just like Proof (Shit!) |
| They’ll set you up, tryin' to murk you in a place |
| They lie on you when police won’t solve the case |
| This is what you chased your whole life to do |
| In the city where nobody gives a fuck about you! |
| And it’s true! |