The Game

The GameJamal Man 1 - You got the shit? Man 2 - What? fuck you mean do I got the shit, nigga? the fuck Man 1 - Cmon, man Man 2 - Think I'm just comin' here to bullshit? Man 1 - Hey man, whassup man, why you gotta get all hostile n shit? Man 2 - What? Nigga what? why the fuck I gotta get hostile, nigga? Nigga is you-what? Nigga WHAT? In the Ghetto I knew this wild nigga named Slim(?) Lived his life as a sin And packed a black Mac-10 Wore a lot of Je-wels To show he had not Lost his money a lot Cross Slim(?), you get shot A house on the hill Where he stashed all his bills Freak bitches on the weekends With niggas that kill Discuss keys at the table with 'bangers Head-hangers Their life before coke That made them win dough Now they put their work on out-of-towner drug lords To make 'em feel their manhood And get the things they couldn't afford Peep, this shit is hella Listen to what I tell ya' Journey with some real ghetto dwellers I'm just, chillin' on the block With the Glock cocked And I got it locked Now it's my dope spot The plot, was like, 3 on the dot Get the product, duck I'm leavin they stash spot knocked (Put 'em up!) Get the keys, use the gangster bitch for bait She ran up on em screamin' I had the infrared beamin' And I don't hesitate (Why?) It's time to regulate (Uh-huh) I cock back, let off three from the Tec then I break Back to my rest And I ain't throw away my gun I change clothes In case somebody saw what I wore When I tore that lame's ass out the frame Never will I come dumb I'm just young to The Game The same day I was supposed to make dough Y'know Cut it up in slabs of Oz(?) and roll them hoes No hesitation gots no time to get done up The doper MY shit, the bigger MY come-up What must I do about the envy'ing some (Nothin') They won't last while I shine like the Sun Keepin the cops all clocked Cos the block is locked I got a quarter-mill stack Prayin not to get popped Ooh it's hot! Niggas get mobbed, they try to stop The clientele is deep With powders and ready rocks with blue tops Drop-tops and the Glock cocked Cos what go around come around In the city that's hot Spittin my man Pac (?) On the steady block With pushers on each corner Went from bottom-rock to top Killa friends that'll rob for your rings and watch Angel Dust to boost the high up a notch Now times has changed Gettin real scary Last week I identified five in the obituaries Little niggas want it all and enticed To be precise - "Fuck rhymin'" A Tec and shoot dice to be nice Kill a nigger for the Tommy Hilfiger Or the Polo Shootin' game at the neighborhood Ho's "You better slow down" My old aunt said "You think you the baddest thing [?]" I couldn't turn back (Why Not?) No gettin out Once I'm in it then I'm in it for life And as it turns out I caught that body The cops is on scout I can't trust my clout I gotta lay-low down south I reminisce watchin' bitches suck a bone Sick mind sittin' on a settee So I phone home During my rap I heard my Fam got jammed on the turf Possession of a gram and a hammer I hope he don't snitch in the slammer I be just Coolin with my niggas on the block Smokin weed by the cess spot And it don't stop I be just (Hahahahahahahaa As we take ya'll black funky asses on another journey To the dark side Aww shit Jamal represents in this motherfucker Blowin your brains on different terrains Comin straight out of Philly as we take the Chocolate City Onto another Era (?) All day All night long as we drop it to the One, Two This is Doctor Travis, signing off Trick bitches)