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The Game - Drug Test (feat. Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Sly) (The R.E.D. Album) HQ
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Apparaît dans

Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
The Game
The Game
Voix principales
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Chant
Sly
Sly
Chant
Snoop Dogg
Snoop Dogg
Chant
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Calvin Broadus
Calvin Broadus
Paroles/Composition
Daniel Tannenbaum
Daniel Tannenbaum
Paroles/Composition
Kendrick Lamar
Kendrick Lamar
Paroles/Composition
J. Cole
J. Cole
Paroles/Composition
B. Honeycutt
B. Honeycutt
Paroles/Composition
Andre Romell Young
Andre Romell Young
Paroles/Composition
Earl Hayes
Earl Hayes
Paroles/Composition
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Jayceon Terrell Taylor
Paroles/Composition
Khalil Abdul‐Rahman
Paroles/Composition
Sly
Sly
Paroles/Composition
Stanley Benton
Stanley Benton
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Dr. Dre
Dr. Dre
Ingénierie de mixage
DJ Khalil
DJ Khalil
Production
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Ingénierie de mastérisation
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Mauricio "Veto" Iragorri
Ingénierie de prise de son
Robert Reyes
Robert Reyes
Ingénierie de prise de son

Paroles

I'm in this mothafucker doing what I wanna 10 bottles, 10 bitches go with my persona Pull up in that Enzo then I do donuts I'm that cool, cashews, make 'em all go nuts Baby got ass, I need me a shot of that Lil mama get gangsta for me, stuff it in your Prada bag That's right, she's got something that I wanna see That's right, so if she leave, she fucking with me That's life, twerk something, work something, hurt something She wanna check, check this shit out like a verse coming They rip their neck and run their mouth when they heard something Dre dropped another one and fucked around and murdered something Club filled with dead bodies If not then you a zombie, I'm not gonna feel sorry You pass out from it, get drunk, get blunted Do what you wanna do, drug test on you Lotta money when I talk Big mills, big deals 'bout a hundred in a vault Sit still, that real, lotta haters throw salt They lost big Game give a fuck how you feel I fear she just might just pop that pill And feel on me all night till the tip spill Tip scales with her waistline, sex with the bassline She gon' fuck a snare drum one drink at a time Blow right, hoes fight over my name I got my dough right, hustle running all in my veins It's forty days, forty nights if I'm making it rain I reign supreme, a bottle and some bomb-ass weed then we good If you got drugs in this motherfucker Let me see your hands in the air Narcotics in the club and the ladies love us So let's get high off something High off something, high off something 'Til your mothafucking brain don't function High off something, high off something I can't take it anymore Fireworks when I spark, yellow tape Lotta chalk thought you said you a boss Big deal, bitch chill, pulling out that black card Showin' off big spendin', letting alcohol spill I feel she might just get too faded X-rated that's what I like glad that you made To this ceremony at hand, take a sip lets plan For the future, introduce you to Snoop get you right and May I, kick a little something for the G's and Make a few ends as I breeze through? The shit on my hip is a fucking preview And guess what it lead to If you got drugs in this motherfucker Let me see your hands in the air Narcotics in the club and the ladies love us So let's get high off something High off something, high off something 'Til your mothafucking brain don't function High off something, high off something (Oooooohhhhoooooooh)
Writer(s): Calvin Broadus, Jayceon Taylor, Stanley Benton, Brian Honeycutt, Earl Hayes, Khalil Abdul Rahman, Daniel Tannenbaum, Jermaine Cole, Sylvester Jordan Jr., Kendrick Lamar Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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