| Drama is real, like not wakin up
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| I’m breakin up grounds when this patriot thrust
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| Your mouth is on shut, your emotions are hidden
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| For you to handle your business, you are more than driven
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| If you kill it no more standin on that corner like a stop sign
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| Everytime you spotted they call it shot time
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| Not at the gym but in the grim reaper’s hands
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| You important if a bullet hits, injure your plans
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| This is not an adventure, but a full-time duty
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| If you seen how niggas hit the club, they pullin out uzis
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| Sometimes bruisin and grazin, mostly takin
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| No more sleep for the shooter, no more of that hangin
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| No mo' trustin hoes you ain’t know fo' ten plus
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| No mo' smokin with the homies, no mo' late night clubs
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| Cause the victim, is ready to stick him like a mousetrap
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| I’m 'bout to rap, you better be 'bout peepin out cash
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| If there’s blood on my Nikes I done murdered a nigga
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| If the stash spot smokin I done murdered a nigga
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| San Quinn got a hurt for the nigga, it get worser for niggas
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| We take this beef shit further than niggas
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| Streets are shady, the Game got curtains for niggas
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| All-of-a-sudden-ass killers never heard of these niggas
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| Have your whole family cryin a river, we’ll murder you niggas
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| We take this beef shit personal nigga
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| I ain’t met a nigga yet could fuck with this rap vet
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| I’m the realest since I came in the game on Kam back
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| Rest in peace to Mausberg, gotta live with that
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| Keep the M2 on my hip, I live with that
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| Eat with that, sleep with that, come get me
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| Four-fifty put somethin through your son Easter basket
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| Six in your truck, get you each a casket
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| Put termites in your box let 'em eat your cabbage
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| A wife right here, see if she can weave through traffic
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| Everybody gotta die, when the beef is active
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| If you know Game, you know I’ll never give free passes
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| But I give choices, how you want it, metal or plastic
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| Life is real, pedal to traffic, no spots on my tail
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| Cops on the payroll so me and Quinn live well
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| And I can still get a nigga the hill, your bitch as well
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| Shotgun got mo' punks than shells
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| See the Escalade got 'em runnin downhill, snowball niggas
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| We throw vapors out of truck windows, blow our figures
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| Suede corners out the sunroof, the fifth or the Ruger
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| Broad daylight, blow the windows out of your Cougar
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| Move in the S5, plus my, leather dust fly
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| Spark up a dutch, Game put niggas in a coffin too much
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| Turn niggas kids into orphans too much, In God We Trust — nah
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| Keep the fifth close like Starsky & Hutch
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| Your daughter cryin it’s just tuck, but so what
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| Blow the dutch, southpaw bust out your whole fronts
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| Have you eatin soup for months, broken jaw, lick your shit out of straws
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| I guess I got that same ol' harm
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| I ain’t for play, the Game is raw
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| Specialize in death jackets, here try these bullets on
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| And next time have all my cheese cause if you owe me
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| Guns O-U-T, we all gon' squeeze |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Drama Is Real , by - The Game. Song from the album Untold Story, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп