Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song House Of Pain , by - The Game. Release date: 31.12.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
House Of Pain |
| Catch me if you can I’m in those old school Barkley’s |
| Back to the fence, puffin on that Bob Marley |
| Flow like oregano, nigga you already know |
| My competition’s stiffer than Ronald Regan, let it go |
| Befo' you be a motherfuckin vegetable |
| You scrap niggas too animated like The Incredibles |
| Let this beef go around like the 26's |
| It’s young Game of flame, welcome to the House of Pain |
| Nigga what about The Game? |
| Keep on playin boy, I’ll hop out this fuckin Range |
| Look I ain’t even ask for his fuckin chain |
| But he took it off like Vanessa-Del-Rio |
| Now I’m on my way to Rio |
| After I see my P.O. |
| She cool, she a Leo |
| She ain’t trippin' off the weed smoke |
| So I’ma blow it like the Patriots |
| And throw my dub up, cus Dr. Dre made me rich |
| Where you from? |
| (California) |
| What city? |
| (Compton) |
| What you drive? |
| (Impala) |
| What you smokin' on? |
| (Chronic) |
| What you drinkin' on? |
| (Patron) |
| What you sittin' on? |
| (The throne) |
| Relax, make yourself at home |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| I wrote the block off, I talk that shit |
| Size 12 Bo Jacksons cause I walk that shit |
| There on Compton Blvd that’s where I walk my pits |
| Biggie and 2Pac and they bark like this… |
| As I spark my splif |
| I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch |
| We be shootin like free throws, flying them desert Eagles |
| Sell dope to the Po' while we eat chili Fritos |
| From a gang banger to a CEO |
| Everything I do is big like the nigga Ceaser-Leo |
| Won’t stop till I’m dead |
| Ain’t gotta watch for the Feds |
| They ain’t watchin me so here’s a dome shot to the head |
| As I take a Patron shot to the head |
| And reminise about the shit the D.O.C. |
| said |
| «Get money, get cars, get mine, get yours, |
| And keep your head up, like the Lambo doors» |
| Where you from? |
| (California) |
| What city? |
| (Compton) |
| What you drive? |
| (Impala) |
| What you smokin' on? |
| (Chronic) |
| What you drinkin' on? |
| (Patron) |
| What you sittin' on? |
| (The throne) |
| Relax, make yourself at home |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Guess it’s time to break the number 9 Jordan’s in |
| Make a nigga mad when they been trying ta' floor the Benz |
| I’m doin 160 in the fast lane |
| Scott Storch in his Bugatti couldn’t pass Game |
| I got it made like my last name |
| I’m gone just like my Aftermath Chain |
| Don’t make me take you back to '96 |
| Leanin' on that Datsun on the corner eating catfish |
| The Game, da-da-da Game spit 'dat shit |
| I’m controversial like the Afro pic with the black fist |
| Just ask the rapper that had to catch my last diss |
| I’m reckless and I ain’t never crash whips |
| My pops wasn’t around so this bastard |
| Bleed California from the cradle to the casket |
| And I won’t stop ridin' for my coast |
| Niggas keep talkin 'bout my bread, we gonna make toast |
| Where you from? |
| (California) |
| What city? |
| (Compton) |
| What you drive? |
| (Impala) |
| What you smokin' on? |
| (Chronic) |
| What you drinkin' on? |
| (Patron) |
| What you sittin' on? |
| (The throne) |
| Relax, make yourself at home |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |
| Welcome to Compton |