Parole For My Gangstaz lyrics

Les paroles de la chanson For My Gangstaz lyrics par The Game sont sur Paroles 2 Chansons.
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Paroles The Game For My Gangstaz lyrics

[scratched:] "Livin in Compton, California C-A"

Charlie O, drop that hot shit



[The Game]

Motherfucker it's the Game, mister tint the windows wit'cha brain

Since a young'n up and comin, all I did was cop 'caine

They try and change the Game, nigga I still cop 'caine

I ain't moved out the hood, still stay where the cops came

Bitches tryin to throw salt in my name, barbers tryin to part my game

Niggaz tryin to chalk my frame

But I walk on a thin line without scuffin my Chucks

Bad Boyyyyy, and I fuck with Puff

So bring the guns if you want nigga; I'm real good with the glock

And 50 G's say you leave in a box

When I fuck Lil' Kim guess I'm feelin like 'Pac

Niggaz wanna wrestle The Game, guess they feel like The Rock

"It doesn't matter," 745 up and down your block

Hop out with a Nextel, niggaz feel like they shot

It's different in my hood, only time we take shots

is when the Dodgers did good, my niggaz live on the block



[Chorus]

This is for the gangster, in me

This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters pour the brew

This is for the gangster, in me

This is for the gangster, in you - all my gangsters red and blue



[Verse Two]

I'm worldwide with this gangsta lean, my life's no dream

I got a crew in Jamaica, Queens

Lake Charles up to New Orleans in D.C. I sip

My thugs get crunk off Lil' Flip

State to state many shows I rip, I'm the boss of the Bay

Like Clint Eastwood, make my day

Fine bitches look like Lisa Raye, plot on gettin paid

In the end, all they get is played

Maybe a nut, no Ice Capade

Real dudes is shiesty, I only give jewels to wifey

And I don't give a fuck if you really don't like me

It's in my blood to thug, get ill and hyphy

One of the best I might be, it really don't matter

When I bust, sucker MC's scatter, gettin out of my way

I bust bad bitches night and day

I make classics like Dr. Dre, closed casket from rhymes I say



[Chorus]



[The Game]

... Gon' move in on your rock, say fuck the crisis

And ride with the West we got lower coat prices

You know me the king of L.A., New York

Drivin through Brooklyn in a fo', same color as water

You want X? I can cover the order

Ninety-fo' been hustlin now watch the shit elevate like Vince Carter

Not the rap martyr, or the second rap Carter

Compton's own, I'm home, not the best I just rap harder

Heir to the throne, nobody rep Compton like me

Street spinnin like waves on that Continental T

My grandmoms woulda been proud of me, look at your grandson now

'Til my demis, Black Mafia ties

So it's hard to let the larcent die, my {?} treys

A killer changin the game like them Marcy guys

And I been compared to Shyne like Shyne was compared to Biggie

I'm from Compton, he from New York City, c'mon really?



[Chorus]