Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Compton to Fillmoe (studio), artist - The Game. Date of issue: 12.11.2006
Song language: English
Compton to Fillmoe (studio) |
| Compton to Fillmore here we go again |
| In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can’t bang |
| Compton to Fillmore here we go again |
| In L.A. they havin problems, the Bay we pop collars |
| Compton to Fillmore here we go again |
| In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows |
| Compton to Fillmore here we go again |
| In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles |
| They can’t cop what the bricks’ll cost |
| But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss |
| Leather gloves with the tips to toss |
| But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss |
| Smash down at the V.I.P |
| Street smarts is crucial for young niggas in the CX-3 |
| Drop Jag with the price to pay |
| Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin like a ice capade |
| Got the feds lookin twice this way |
| Cause we shuffle the P’s in different places that the name |
| Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real |
| When you turn 15 get your stainless steel |
| Whole squad been trained to kill, we official |
| And switch to get rich now we after the meals |
| Hard times got cakes for 3 |
| When it’s havin a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga |
| I got guns, guns, guns, guns |
| Guns all over the club |
| We in V.I.P. |
| strapped, security know that |
| 25 deep, guns up under the throwback |
| That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack |
| Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at |
| We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq |
| And more guns than the Nickerson Projects |
| Niggas don’t want beef with me |
| Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin shit but the sheets is free |
| And ain’t nuttin to shoot the club up |
| You don’t want drama in this motherfucker throw them dubs up |
| Jacob got the wrists on chill |
| And N.W.A. |
| chain glow like the memory of Ill Will |
| Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free |
| You’re now rollin to the sound of the Game and JT |
| But you can’t come with the rest of her friends |
| Cause you know I’m a boss and won’t play cause she short on my ends |
| Make rounds from the back of the Benz |
| With the that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend |
| The things we go through I’m beatin ya brains |
| Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game |
| While they knockin on the do' I get deep in ya dame |
| Gotta charge you a G just for speakin my name |
| I’m not eatin your chocha or payin for the coach ma |
| I’m a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma |
| 6 in the mornin, you stretchin on the sofa |
| Singin «Ain't No Nigga» like Foxy Brown and Hova |
| I fuck 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas |
| With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em fuck the both of us |
| You know what it is, the gangster’s back |
| And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at |
| I’m ghetto |