Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dope Game, artist - The Jacka.
Date of issue: 18.02.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Dope Game |
They say we look like we pushin' work |
How I just push up on every turf |
Swoop my niggs, twist kush in every blunt |
It ain’t fair, so I give away the crumbs |
That’s a zip or two, every time I come around |
I’m a real playa fuckin' off a 100 thou |
Cause we real, 30 shots up in the crowd |
So sick, even make the haters proud |
We the shit, clap you if ya gettin' loud |
Feel like the 80's babies time to hold it down |
Got my gun, shootin' for the damn stars |
Hit the streets, & try to kick us out tomorrow |
It’s the future, in the hood it’s stupid hard |
See the block, dope boys everywhere |
Damn it’s hot, I don’t think I ever cared |
Me & Amp, finna lock another year |
Yeah, dopegame baby, cocaine crazy |
In the traphouse with the chop & ya lady |
Yeah, we came a long way from standin on the block |
In the kitchen whippin rock, to sittin in the drop |
Coonin on you niggas, yeah the block stockbroker |
Devilz rejectz it’s the mobb bitch we takin over |
I’m a boss & it’s family first |
If it’s beef we hit ya family first, mothafucka |
I count money, while you watchin' your girlfriend |
Look in through my sons eyes watchin' the world spin |
My moms died, my whole world ended |
Smack my girl every night, cause I’m tormented |
I wanted to be a rapper, I sold my first piece of crack |
Nigga I’m a trapper drug dealer stuck in the Ak |
Most niggas actors, faint if they see a Mac |
Nigga just got life, my cousin ain’t comin back |
I’m lookin at life, through Cardier lenses |
You can have my soul, just give me back my friends |
I thought when the money came that I’ll be happy |
But the money changed how the world thought about my family |
I went from Anthony, to a Devilz Reject |
In the ghetto with my metal, lookin' for the detects |
I ride around, with 3 tecs |
Tryna knock a nigga down, hopin' I don’t be next |
Listen, all bite no bark doggie |
Light some catpiss up get the car foggy |
Up high in the sky blowin' clouds out |
Chicks cheerleadin' like we holdin' tryouts |
That G shit that’s what them guys 'bout |
Cannons under the cusions of the couches at my hideout |
Money hidden in the mattress, cakes in the oven |
Bakin' with the timer, just wait for the buzzer |
Used to be a grinder bundle full of dubba dubbas |
Back in the days my uncle & them called em hubbas |
Mid 90's, we was in the hood burnin' rubber |
You was in the house watchin' New York undercover |
When them shots rang out you put your head undercover |
If you get caught up you’d probably tell the feds on a brotha |
I was brought up, to be about my bread mothafucka |
Art of a gunslinger goin' hard at my hustle |
Yeah, dopegame baby, cocaine crazy |
In the traphouse with the chop & ya lady |
Yeah, we came a long way from standin on the block |
In the kitchen whippin rock, to sittin in the drop |
Coonin on you niggas, yeah the block stockbroker |
Devilz rejectz it’s the mobb bitch we takin over |
I’m a boss & it’s family first |
If it’s beef we hit ya family first, mothafucka |