Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song It Must Be, artist - The Game. Album song America's Most Wanted 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 30.04.2013
Record label: Huslte team
Song language: English
It Must Be |
| Wake up in the morning, oh shit! |
| Had to cock the 9, niggas tryin' to steal my pits |
| Went out the back door, see them niggas hit the fence |
| Im telling you, life in Compton is a bitch |
| Let off a couple shots, God damn, I miss |
| Say fuck it anyway, and let off the whole clip |
| Im not to be fucked with, when Im off liquor |
| Old English in my system, bout to kill me a nigga |
| See, I remember back in the days, loadin my AK |
| Ridin round in my Impala with my lungs full of haze |
| That’s when I didnt give a fuck, now I got my son |
| Shoot a nigga, he die, public enemy number one |
| But, this aint no action flick, no Johnny Depp shit |
| When the Tec spit hollow tips in your Lexus |
| So. |
| Dont fuck with a Compton nigga when he packin the gat |
| Yeah, nigga, I stay strapped |
| Somethin hot in here |
| Nigga, it must be me! |
| Is it the shades? |
| Is it the Js? |
| Is it the Bentley with the full color ways |
| Or the old-school sittin on blades |
| What could be? |
| Its 2-o-clock in the afternoon, Im bout to roll a Swisher |
| Cause that’s what real niggas do when they at home |
| Watchin ESPN on the 70-inch flat screen |
| K-Gs and Wade jerseys, blowin chronic, that green |
| Gave up the hoop dreams, bubble with the crack dreams |
| Turn hood zombies into a Olympic track team |
| Till I got shot, and infiltrated the rap scene |
| Had to clean my life up, doc gave me the vaccine |
| Dont get it twisted, I still click-clack things |
| Red beam attached to each and every strap |
| That I keep locked up in my basement |
| If I shoot a nigga, will the Lord forgive Jason? |
| I dont know, still got a sick fetish for shoot-outs and car chases |
| Fuck Pacino, cause we know niggas with scarfaces |
| And we go back, like D-Boys and small faces |
| And we crashin new Ferraris while ya’ll hatin' |
| Pharrell I think its |
| Somethin hot in here |
| Nigga, it must be me! |
| Is it the shades? |
| Is it the Js? |
| Is it the Bentley with the full color ways |
| Or the old-school sittin on blades |
| What could it be? |
| You know the answer, fool |
| Niggas caint fuck with me, real spit |
| I guess I am a motherfucking legend, Will Smith |
| All Im missin is a bitch like Jada, Bonnie & Clyde shit |
| Hit the fence like later, sayonara, arrivederci |
| Black rose Phantom, interior hearse shit |
| And I got some kisses from a couple Brooklyn bitches |
| Them hoesll never testify, peace to Common |
| But Game keep it hood like weaves and Top Ramen |
| Never stop coming for the top |
| If the bass a flesh wound and Pharrell a head shot |
| Motherfucker, and when he take aim |
| Bullets enter your frame, my bars simi-lar |
| To a dragon swalloin flames |
| Caint walk through the club and take a piss |
| Without these new school rap niggas on my dick |
| While you fuck around with your jewelry and all your whips |
| I pull up with your bitch pumpin gangsta shit |
| Now you know |
| Somethin hot in here |
| Nigga, it must be me! |
| Is it the shades? |
| Is it the Js? |
| Is it the Bentley with the full color ways |
| Or the old-school sittin on blades |
| What could it be? |
| You know the answer, fool |
| Do ya thing, shawty |
| Do ya thing, shawty |
| Do ya thing, shawty |
| Erybody lookin now Go |
| Go |
| Go |
| Go |
| Go |
| Go |
| Erybody lookin now |