Lyrics Change Your Life - The Game, DJ Infamous Haze

Change Your Life

A-R nigga, what
Fuck your baby momma, fuck all of her friends then I nut
I’m a nut, follow me on Twitter
Nigga don’t be that bitter
If that’s your girl, then I fuck
Nigga I smash it, pass it
From the Goods down to the Kardashians
Got st&s on my passport, stripes on my record
But that don’t mean I can’t get her naked, check it
Forty thou for my necklace, wrist so reckless
Tell your girl I got a hard dick for them wet lips
Tell her to sex this, tell her to text this
Tell her to pick me up, in her ex shit
Gone
Not for long, graduated from Stanford, so I hear «Game Strong»
She look good dressed, you should see her in a thong
Get her so wet, she could bubble up a bong
Ass so right, make a nigga wanna tap that
Pussy so tight, fit my head like a snap back
Almost fell in love, but a nigga had to snap back
Pimp hand strong, tell her Goldie from the Mack back
Mr. Red Bottoms, nah, you ain’t like me
Catch me with a fly white bitch, Ice-T
Who at your girl crib chillin'?
Shit I might be
You ain’t heard Jerz P I M P
See actin' cocky, so I threw on the mag
Put her ass down like a 6−4 rag
She wanna cuddle and keep, but get around
So I told her I only got one night in this town
Stars are lit on nights
Time to put the bottles in the ice
Give me one night, I can change your life, right
Girl tell me what you want
(Everything comes with a price
I just want a little time, let me be your wife
I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life
Give it to me how I want it, you know how I want it)
Started off with dust, now I got duckets
My bitch see a Benz, but I treat it like a buck
Drop that ass off, better keep the meter running
Got 3000 hits, Derek Jeter motherfuckers
Now rockin' with the greatest
All my number 4 Jordans, go buy the ace of spade shit
And these blood diamonds, cause a blood rhyming
Cold as 4th quarter nigga, I’m a call them Blood Bryant
The newest everything, welcome to flight school
She hates Home Depot, I bet she like tools
You know I ride smooth, that Maserati sick
I need a parachute, baby I’m high as shit
Got all this fuckin' ice, I need a hockey stick
Nobody fuckin' with me, no, I ain’t sellin'
We getting hella bent, hell let the liquor talk
3 card monte tell that bitch we ice cards
Now a nigga on, all these hoes wanna bother me
TD please, can you get us up in Colony?
All they wanna do is pop spades with the crew
Cause we pour the mob deep, without Havoc or Prodigy
Next day she like «You owe me an apology»
I’m like «What for?
«She like «Why you unfollow me?
«Since we bringing up old shit
Last time you gave me head, bitch why you ain’t swallowing?
The poor paper hustler, motherfucker give it to me, I can sell that
The homie sits around a whole lot of fly bitches, thinkin' I got held back
I left the crib and told momma I had a vision
And called your bitch up and told her I’m back pimpin'
My nigga Chuck hit me, I told him I had a verse
He told me it’s only 8, I told him I make it work
I be on my MacBook, internet pimpin'
Skyping with 2 naked bitches, trying to get a visit
I chat to her iPad, so
I keep the snake on my head, these dudes are swallowin' my future
One night, my neck bright and my wrists glisten
Fresh to death, get dressed at the mortician
Tore life, my wife, your entertainment
Baby I can make you famous
Yeah, you know I’m laughin' at you niggas
Trippin' on them hoes, spendin' cash on them bitches
Tippin' on them hoes, I’m an ass on them sixes
Models on the phone, gettin' head, I’m chillin'
Big bottle poppin', the money in the building
Take this bitch over, shit that’s how a nigga feeling
Fistful of Rozay, yeah a nigga get it
Now I’m trying to find a wife with all these motherfucking women