The Game - Charge It To The Game/ The Mixtape (2005) by The Game (보컬) on maniadb.com

New jersey devil
Hahaha
Dont worry about me
I aint no body
Im jus go come sit down o..a...
By there n then ima get the fuck outt yo way so u can goo goo....im get all the way out the way ahhaa

Bitchh

Niggas gotta v12 engine out til i bust that chrome
Screamin like that hollow tip crush that bones
When i call 50 banks young buck is on
They bring heavyy

It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... chronic, chronic, chronic, chronic
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... hydrolex, drolex, drolex, drolex
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Westside, Westside, Westside, Westside
It's that, it's that, it's that, it's that... Compton, Compton, Compton, Compton

(Breakdown)
It's not that I can't stop, It's that I won't stop, I make it hot (I do it)
I'll be on top, as soon as the beat drop, I'll make the whole club rock (I do it)

(The Game)
Lace my Air Ones up, put my gun up
I don't need that I'm riding wit Dre
Who don't love us, every hood throwin they dubs up
Who the fuck yall thought was comin after Young Buck
hip hops worst nightmare, Mr. Gangsta Rap is back in black nike airs
You want war, we can settle it right here
I got a squad, E V E and Busta Rhymes yeah
Or you could give me ya bitch, her with the light hair
Sit her next to these yellow bottles, tea right there
Matter fact I'll take you in the back
you in the hat, and you in the blue and the black
Lets have a gangsta party
Somebody lean over and tell Banks to order another case of fortys
Yo Doc give them a coke with that, wake up the west coast is back

(CHORUS)
(I can take you hiyaaaah)
Show you how that low rider bounce off the flo' - You ain't know?
(I can take you hiyaaaah)
It's the muthafuckin chronic nigga thats whatsup - roll that blunt
(I can take you hiyaaaah)
G-Unit, Shady Aftermath I'm the motherfuckin Game and
(I can take you hiyaaaah)

(Breakdown)

(Game) + (Snoop Dogg)
Like Dre did, I created a buzz without a single like N.W.A. did
From the hood -liquor- store to the state pen
This is gin and juice
the doc made the club R.O.C. without Timbaland boots
First nigga to put drolex on a bentley coupe
You wanna pimp? I perm my shit up like Snoop (Westside)
Chronic 2005 muthafucker, put the purple in the dutch
"Let it Burn" like Usher giirl
Drop down, do the eagle, fuck that
Real niggaz just pull up they pants and lean back giirl
Make 50 spill his cris, he'll call you a bitch
I'ma call you and hit , you can ya girlfriend, we can make it a flick
I got the lollipop if you wanna lick
Or you can take a ride on the magic stick

(CHORUS)

(Breakdown)

(Game)
Put 25's on the hummer, why not
I'ma be here for the next 10 summers
Drop me in the 4th quarter I'm fuckin up they money
I don't need sound scan I'm doin my own numbers
When that impala bounce you can see the chrome under
I got em' in every color yea I'm a known stunner
When I hit a switch I get higher than long jumpers
low ridin with a hood rat or a grown woman
And I'll do anything but I won't fuck Mariah
Even if she had Ashanti butt naked in bed
cause she got a forehead just like Tyra
I can say what the fuck I want, you thought Dre retired
Left me in 6-4 his Dayton wires
These niggas is a waste of rhymin, Doc got somthing to say be quiet

(Dr. Dre)
Look out for Detox

(CHORUS)

(Breakdown)

(Intro: Game)
Ahh shit
G-G-G-G-G ... G-G-G-G-Unit
I thought all that beefin was over man
Squashed it man, been there done that
Somebody had to gon' on and f**k it up

(Game)
No more Bleek and Buddens I was hopin' for silence
Till the little sleeping beauty, went and woke the giant
This little bitch from The Luniz want beef he liein'
So I called E-40, and tried to seize the violence
I got niggaz on the island, for puttin' in stainless work
With vaseline on they palms, gettin' ready to +Bang Em Smurf+ (you little bitch)
I here him screamin' in Compton, sound like my bitch cummin'
You wasn't never f**kin' with G-Unit, quit frontin'
For domination be Lisa Leslie, a big woman
With a nine on the back, I'm gonna catch that bitch runnin'
Shove a .40 in his throat, now nigga spit somethin'
And get lost boy, go visit your big cousin
I got fish to fry, throw a line in the pacific
With cocaine on the hook, for this +Luniz+ ass nigga
You a bitch, how you call your self the Ice Cream Man
When Master P took your name and your ice cream van
Made 500 million, that's your homey though
Took your man hood, gave your shit to Lil'Romeo
This nigga, 5 foot 2, talkin' that big shit
You got +5 On It+? that money went to Chris Hicks
Tryin' to diss Too $hort for doin' his pimp shit
Nigga you been gitten f**ked, swallowin' big dicks
Pac knew he was a pussy, that's why he ran south
Signed to Rap-A-Lot, they never put his ass out
Hid behind Lil' J, all the sudden you thugged out
Ran back to the Bay, sleepin' on wannabe 'cause couch
How you drop 5 albums, don't own one house
Or get the boss to call me, Banks, and f**k out
It's G-Unit bitch, let me show you what blood bout
When my blood pressure rise, I bring the bloods out
Put the barrell on his neck, blow his guts out (*gunshot)
Now that's whats you call a +Yukmouth+

(Outro: Game)
Yeah, you little faggot ass bitch
Yeah nigga, on the motherf**kin' internet with that faggot ass footage nigga
You little bitch ass nigga, Domination, nigga
I'll put braids in your hair motherf**ker
See how you like when it's motherf**kin' 50 Cal, nigga
Blow your motherf**kin' brains out nigga, i'll braid your hair you little bitch
Back to you nigga, nigga with the dreads, you f**kin Jafakin
Motherf**kin' faggot ass nigga
Yeah I seen you in the club nigga, asked you did you had beef with G-Unit nigga
Nigga you ain't say shit nigga
"That ain't me man, that was C-Bo, man, this Regime, this Regime, man, Bay area, Bay area"
Man i'll beat the shit out you, you f**kin little punk
And when I catch you nigga, you gonna need Dr.Dre to get my motherf**kin' G-6 out you ass
You bitch, you faggot ass nigga, and don't try to turn the Bay 'gainst me nigga
I got niggaz in your town that will f**k you up
Vallejo, Filmoe, San Fransico, Sac-town, Oakland
Compton's most nigga
G-G-G-G .. G-G-G-G-Unit
Thought I was done huh? you little bitch
I ain't finished with yo' ass yet nigga, when I see you I'ma beat the shit outta you nigga
To a motherf**kin' pulp, on camera nigga
Since you like playin' with little camcorders and shit you motherf**kin faggot
And I got a mill on that, what the f**k is 5 dollars nigga
G-G-G-G-G-Unit

[Verse 1]

Crip niggaz, Blood niggaz, Essay's, Asians,
Dominicans, Puerto Ricans, White Boyz, Jamaicans,
Latin Kingz, Disciples, Vicelords, Hatians,
All these mutha fuckas been patiently waiting,
Since the west coast fell off the steets been watchin,
The west coast neva fell off i was asleep in Compton,
Aftermath been here the beats been knockin,
Nate Dogg doin his thing DPG still poppin,
I got California love fuckin bitches to that Pac shit,
And westside connection been had it locked bitch,
I'm in the rear view my guns is cockin,
I'll put red dots on that nigga head like rodman,
All stars, phat laces, gun charge, court cases,
Faught that, not guilty im back,
Niggas hate me been there, done that, sold crack,
Got jacked, got shot, came back jumped on Dre's back, payback,
Homie i'll bring ur CA back,
And i dont do button up shirts or drive Maybacks,
All u old record labels tryin to advance,
Aftermath bitch take it like a mutha fuckin man,

[chorus x2]

If you take a look in my eyes,
You see i'll be a gangsta till I die,
That California chronic got me so high,
Game tell them where your from,
Nigga westside!

[Verse 2]

I'm lowridin homie, 6 Tre impala,
Gold d spinnin, chrome hydraulics
Run up on my low-low you stop breathin,
Hollow tips make niggas dissappear like houdini,
Gang bangin is real,
Homie im livin proof like Snoop Dogg C-Walkin on top of da devils roof,
Rap critics wanna converse, about this and that,
Cuz red strings in this converse and this a Dre track,
Keep jibberin jabberin i'll pull a .38 magnum,
And get the clickin and clackin,
You'll homies will wanna kno what happened,
Come to Compton and see thriller like Mike Jackson,
I might be Spike Lee, of this gun clappin,
Prior to rappin I was drug traffic, and
In the dope spot playin John Madden,
Homie I aint braggin, I took five,
If u wanna die run up on that black 745

[chorus x2]

[Verse 3]

New York New York, big city of dreams,
I got my L.A Dodger fitted on im doin my thing,
Got me fuckin wit G-Unit you kno the drama that bring,
I got niggas in Westside Compton and Southside Queens,
And Buck told me in Cashville I'm good when I come through,
So i don't gotta tuck in my chain like DJ Poo,
I'm gangsta more like Deebo when he was Zeus,
Play bishop I paint that picture now who got the juice,
You niggas is nuts so, i take off ur roof,
Leave your ass steched out like a Cadilac Coupe,
God gotta let me in heaven all the shit I been through,
I was an OG in the hood before i truned 22,
Homie I'll let the .38 special rip through that vest,
And I don't contemplate whether or not he left that shit on the dresser,
Got Compton on my back,
Im startin to feel the pressure,
I'm lyrically Kool G. Rap on these Dre Records

[chorus x2]

[Intro: G.A.M.E. (Jim Jones)]
(R.I.P Eazy-E)That Westside(Capo), that city where them tec's fly(Dip-set!)
We ride in that Westside(Eastside), that no seeds in our stress side(Lets ride)

[Verse 1: G.A.M.E.]
Jim Jones swirvin, I got that purple I'm blowed
Tight grip on the Escalade pole
Yeah, Harlem's jus' like Compton, that's jus' how I roll
Red bandana wrapped around the chrome .44
Gun smokin' like Suge cigar
Show me how you stunt you thrown outta movin' car
If that thing come out, its murder she wrote
If Doc come out, its 30 Impalas on the boat
Nigga, we do this everyday
Llamas under the thermul, waitin' by ya stairs like Mary J
Beat niggaz ride dirty like Jazze Pha, Cassius Clay
Knock a nigga out on the ave today
Bring the mack ya way me and Santana
Blowin' in the crowd like Donnie Hathaway
Westside blood-gang, niggaz know what I'm about
And they know I'm ruff ridin' so they knockself out

[Chorus: Bezel]
Now I ride with my vest, .45 and my tech
Big 4 in the '64, like I'm in the West
Not petrified to put 5 in ya chest
Cause, we Certified Gangstas
Stash the mill' in the house
And I kill in the drowt
That's the chill, when I pump, get it crunk in the South
Icegrill, like a nice meal in my mouth
Cause, we Certified Gangstas

I Made You!
Yes I Made You!
Mr. Potatohead I Made You!
I Made You!
I Made You!
I Made You!
Mr. Potatohead I Made You!

Theres no batteries in my back
I show you niggas how I move (Move Echo)
50 ain't gangsta
Lloyd Banks ain't gangsta
Yayo ain't gangsta
Young Buck, you know you ain't gangsta

You at what you niggas made
Ain't that a bitch
Created a monster
Kicked me outta G-Unit
Put me in converse
Matter of fact give me a dick
Just like Olivia so you can suck my shit
Gimme a pen
So I can be the hardest in the click
Wind me up nigga then gimme some lips
So I can talk about ya faggot
Niggas aint no thugs
While im at it tell Young Buck gimme some white gloves
So I can cover my fingerprints in ya blood
I need a get away car you can put it on dubs
Make sure its got a stash for the 38 snub
And a Banks album cuz thats where I got my buds
Gimme muscles like 50
Gimme Yayo hands
Gimme a collection plate for Ma$e fans
Gimme some glasses so I can watch Mason dance
Who movin? You singing?
Nigga gimme ya fans
Gimme a tattoo tear
Gimme some ears so i can hear police talkin when you disappear

I made you
I made you
I made you
I made you
Mr. Potato Head
I Made you
Yes, I Made you
Mr. Potato Head I Made you!
I Made you
I Made You!
Mr. Potato Head I Made you! (You Echo)

Theres no batteries in my back
I show you niggas how I move.

Yayo: And I'd like to thank game cuz hes mr potato head of the year, 'n' you kn.. a put together gangsta!

Rolling through Connecticut
In a stolen mini-van
Stop at his house
I dont see many men
Matter of fact I dont see any men
One plain clothed cop call him Lieutenant Dan
Officer why ya man tryna beat up my fans?
Makin me 5 times platinum wasnt part of his plan
Same shit same snitch
You know how it goes
I smell a rat even if you take off my nose
And i bet every quarter in your piggy bank
Lloyd told N.Y.P.D. who got 50 shanked
Next time when the lights go out
I'm pulling a desert eagle when the knives come out
Watch that man get ta tussling and the mice run out
Don't gamble with ya life when my dice roll out

I made you
I made you
I made you
I made you
I made you
Mr Potato Head I Made you!
Yes I Made you
Mr Potato Head I Made you!
I Made you!
I Made You!
Mr Potato Head I Made you!

Theres no batteries in my back
I show you Niggas how I move (Move Echo)
50 aint gangsta
Lloyd Banks aint gangsta
Yayo aint gangsta
Young Buck you know you aint gangsta

(Phat Rat talks)
G-G-G-G-G.... NOT!
You bitch ass niggas
Check this out man
I'm not gonna be playing these mother fucking games
Mr. Potato head now you wanna be a comedian nigga
This shit is R-E-A-L nigga!
Real nigga
Black wall street
Wait wait
Like I told you last time
It's THE black wall street you bitch ass nigga
And Oliv... Excuse me OLIVER!
You punk mother fucker
I'm still taking heat from my niggas
For looking at your mother fuckin' ass nigga
You somebodys son
You bitch ass Nigga
I'ma catch up to your ass nigga
Muscle mouth ass bitch
Thats alright though nigga

G-U-Not nigga

This is black wall street nigga
Tell me where you at
Thats all we need to know nigga
Cus this is real nigga
This is the streets nigga
Brazil & Wilmington nigga
In case you didn't know nigga
Thats right in the heart of COMPTON
You Bitch ass nigga
And Olivia
Get that mother fucking lil' ass red
Mother fucking shorts off your mother fucking ass on that video
Everybody can you see your balls bitch
' The fuck is wrong with you
My Niggas know I tried to holla at your bitch ass nigga
Ima fuck you up nigga
It's your fault
50 Snitch
This is Phat Rat nigga
In case you forgot nigga
Double!

Mr. Potatohead I Made You!
I kill who is my enemy
I don't give a fuck
If you talk shit
I make you a follower yeah
You crack me up kid
Your stupid
I'm much more agile then ever
Got more style so yo whatever
Whatever
Whatever (Echoes)

[The Game]
(State your name gangsta)
The Game
(Where you from nigga?)
Westcoast
(You gon' hold it down?)
We always do around this time

[The Game]
I ain't leaving motherfucker, I'm back
You've been away to long, I can't do nothin' bout that
The hood askin' me Why I do Bleek a tragedy?
Than drive over Brooklyn Bridge with Cassidy
I rode down flushin', in a Rove down flushin'
The hood show me love like I was Hova down flushin'
Compton's Most, where the Yonkers flow
And I got love for Queens and the Bronx fo' sho'
Got squares blowing that Cali Drove muahfucker
And I off shot like Aly Mo at the rucker
Yeah the bird Flipper in Houston with the surve sipper
I'm nice around Mikes words in pimpin'
Got a mean knuckle game, I learn my dipppin'
In '87, when Tommy Hearns was stickin'
I hear niggas dissin', why you have to use Jay?
Let that man retire
Motherfucka its a new day

[Lil' Flip]
(State your name gangsta)
Lil' Flipper
(Where you representin'?)
Houston all day
(You gon' hold it down?)
You damn right

[Lil' Flip]
I take it back to the block, them automaitcs'll pop
You try to snatch my watch, yo dumbass gettin' shot
I got the block on lock, and when the shit get hot
Ima switch up spots, I'm your boy
I'm breakin' bread with my homies, I'm bustin' lead at you phonies
I fuck your bitch when she lonely
That's every other night
I flip your wife for the green
They call me Hustle Man
Nigga, my money too big for a rubber man
I'm a veteran giving fiends they medicine
I'm in Compton with Game bumpin' Let Me In
My nigga Will in the pen, he bout to come home
Hey tell these niggas I made a million of a ring tones
I got a spring home down in Tampa Bay
And I was raised out of Scarface and UGK
Now its my turn, I want that puff money
Matter 'fact that ain't even enough money

[Cassidy]
Yeah
(State your name gangsta)
Cassidy, nigga
(Where you representin'?)
Philly, Pennsylvania
(You gon' hold it down?)
You already know

[Cassidy]
The streets wave their head cast, cause they know the industry fear Cass
I got these chicks cryin' like tear gas
Used to sell dirt weed, couldn't even put it in clear bags
But years passed now my dubs puffy like air bags
You might see me out in Houston on Flip Block
With a ?? old school drop with the ripped top
Forget it I got shit locked, admit it my shit hot
I'm the bestest nigga since BIG, Pac
Out in tha Westcoast with Game, I let the toaster bang ya
Cut you more times than the cards in a pocker game
Cause most you lames when and saw my battle with Free
Now all you wanna battle for free
You see if you ain't got millions to bet, or put your deal on the desk
You ain't real and I don't feel you a threat
So I suggest you get off my dick and go vote or somethin'
'Fore you get the sawed off and tossed out a boat or somethin' (nigga)