| The bullet comes out of his head back in the Draco
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| I moonwalk back to the car, gun on my waist
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| Take the ski mask off of my face, blunt flies back in the trunk
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| Between my index and my middle finger, it’s stuck
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| Inhale the smoke, take a puff
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| Drivin' in reverse, proceed to light it up
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| 'Matic still Nas to listenin'
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| It’s me and the opp, gets further in distance, hand on my watch
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| Movin' backwards, the Chronic jumps out the back wood
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| As the leaf waits for the guts and rolls itself back up
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| Text from a bitch sayin', «Eat to going still»
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| Put my phone back in my pocket, took my knee off the wheel
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| Hand on my wheel, my car in drive, foot on the gas
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| Up the freeway ramp, adjust the rearview and look at my past
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| Speed goin' back up on the dash as I listen to Hill, Lauryn, and uncrumble all
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| of this hash
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| Back in the carpool, flippin' off 12
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| The window rolls down and in comes pistachio shells
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| Cutie smilin' at me, I unthrew up the deuce
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| Triple one-two, three-one-three, three-one-two
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| On the side of a purple Maserati, wonder if she got a body up
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| Or should I think I? |
| It’s a hottie
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| Goin' down on the up ramp, creep slow, back to the light
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| I’ma kill 'em 'fore the end of the night
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| Talkin' on my burner cell like, «At he where?»
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| Back into a parkin' spot, handicap in the mirror
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| Car door opens, my nigga out yells, «Woo-Su»
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| Windows roll up, I’m thinkin' to myself, «Who these niggas in this coupe?»
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| Back in the store, woods back in my hand
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| Sit 'em on the counter as he hands me back my Benz
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| And says, «Nigga my, you thank,» I pass him a coke can
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| 10,000 goes back in my pocket in rubber bands
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| Back to the whip in rewind, back to the spot
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| Walkin' up the stairs backwards, the clip comes outta the Glock
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| The key goes back in the lock
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| I walk in facin' out, take my shoes off and fall on the couch
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| This bitch takes my dick out of her mouth
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| Stands back up and tells me what her day was about
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| We hug as her clothes fly up to her hands, lip singin' B Cardi while she dance
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| Tapes Bundy Ted, credits roll down, chill and Netflix
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| As I unfasten the latch on my cuban link necklace
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| She gave me a second hug for the first time
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| Walks outta the door back in the Uber as I’m cleanin' my .9
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| I sit it down right next to my phone
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| Go back to sleep and undream about Rihanna runnin' 'round in a thong
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| Woke up tired and went back to the booth
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| Sample God’s Sons, rewind it and wrote it backwards to a loop
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| Listen up gangsters and honeys with your hair done
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| Pull up a chair, hon', and put it in the air, son
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| Dawg, whatever they call you, God, just listen
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| I spit a story backwards, it starts at the endin' |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rewind II, artist - The Game. Album song Born 2 Rap, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп