Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song When Shit (studio), artist - The Game. Date of issue: 12.11.2006
Song language: English
When Shit (studio) |
| Who really the best rapper since 'Pac got killed |
| I done answered that question when I copped my deal |
| Ask yourself when the Game is comin, after next summer |
| I predict my shit’ll drop before the next Howard homecoming |
| Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggas who want it |
| I got a four-fifth and it just like me, it stay gunnin |
| Me and my niggas stay blunted fogged up in the 600 |
| Guilty as charged, blunts in the air, guns in the doors |
| It’s written, Compton niggas never run from the law |
| Plus we get Monopoly money with hotels and a board |
| So I’ll never see a jail, and I’m allergic to bars |
| Can’t sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we travel with ours |
| Poppin Crist' in the 6, like we drivin through Mardi Gras |
| Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I roll through the city |
| And I keep 16 in the clip, and I let 'em all go |
| Like the Lakers did Ellie, Atty and Nick, huh |
| When shit get thick, niggas start dyin |
| Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin |
| Payback come through violent, nigga |
| We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent, cause |
| When shit get thick, niggas start dyin |
| Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin |
| Payback come through violent, nigga |
| We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent |
| No garbage we smoke molta, move big cocoa |
| We off the train tracks like the great space coaster |
| We hit real big and consistant like Sam Sosa |
| Prepare for war, like United States soldiers |
| Lock tight and rock right like grey eight oz’s |
| I’ll be hittin up spots, in them flip Range Rovers |
| Before you even try to play, foolish all over |
| Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over |
| We ball out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest |
| When we roll by the quads in them Z-66's |
| Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed |
| Always dirty never clean but we live like kings |
| Legendary like Sting, it’s a history to follow |
| But not known for stingin known for gettin off hollows |
| Shoot me a glass of Remy, nah fuck it the whole bottle |
| And watch me act bad and take off, full throttle |
| I’m from a batch where it ain’t no cut, we all in |
| 36 on a triple beam scale for meal |
| Duffle bag on my shoulder my route, through the back of the jet |
| To bag up baguettes and everybody know it |
| I’m the iceholder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up |
| My favorite color is rainbowed up |
| Ain’t a coke dealer, but I got bricks for cheap |
| Hit the lab for a fo' day block, we got heat |
| You niggas can’t compete when I walk in the streets |
| We Get Low, and there’s no idea with the info |
| It’s a rule of thumb, let them dudes a come |
| I’m cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some |
| I’m in the widebody xm-5, all my snakes is live |
| We check your five, the spot where the tec dies |
| And everybody gotta holla the name |
| It’s jt from the Fillmoe streets to cpt |