[20 second instrumental to open]
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[The Game]
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Who really the best rapper since 'Pac got killed
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I done answered that question when I copped my deal
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Ask yourself when the Game is comin, after next summer
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I predict my shit'll drop before the next Howard homecoming
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Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggaz who want it
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I got a four-fifth and it just like me, it stay gunnin
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Me and my niggaz stay blunted fogged up in the 600
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Guilty as charged, blunts in the air, guns in the doors
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It's written, Compton niggaz never run from the law
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Plus we get Monopoly money with hotels and a board
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So I'll never see a jail, and I'm allergic to bars
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Can't sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we travel with ours
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Poppin Crist' in the 6, like we drivin through Mardi Gras
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Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I roll through the city
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And I keep 16 in the clip, and I let 'em all go
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like the Lakers did Ellie, Atty and Nick, huh
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[Chorus]
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When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
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Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
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Payback come through violent, nigga
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We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent, cause
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When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
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Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
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Payback come through violent, nigga
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We hit blocks, bust shots, leave ya whole block silent
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[Sean T]
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No garbage we smoke molta, move big cocoa
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We off the train tracks like the great space coaster
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We hit real big and consistant like Sam Sosa
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Prepare for war, like United States soldiers
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Lock tight and rock right like grey eight oz's
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I'll be hittin up spots, in them flip Range Rovers
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Before you even try to play, foolish all over
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Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over
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We ball out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest
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When we roll by the quads in them Z-66's
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Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed
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Always dirty never clean but we live like kings
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Legendary like Sting, it's a history to follow
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But not known for stingin known for gettin off hollows
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Shoot me a glass of Remy, nah fuck it the whole bottle
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And watch me act bad and take off, full throttle
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[Chorus]
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[JT the Bigga Figga]
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I'm from a batch where it ain't no cut, we all in
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36 on a triple beam scale for meal
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Duffle bag on my shoulder my route, through the back of the jet
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To bag up baguettes and everybody know it
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I'm the iceholder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up
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My favorite color is rainbowed up
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Ain't a coke dealer, but I got bricks for cheap
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Hit the lab for a fo' day block, we got heat
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You niggaz can't compete when I walk in the streets
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We Get Low, and there's no idea with the info
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It's a rule of thumb, let them dudes a come
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I'm cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some
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I'm in the widebody XM-5, all my snakes is live
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We check your five, the spot where the tec dies
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And everybody gotta holla the name
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It's JT from the Fillmoe streets to CPT
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-----------------
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When... Get Thick
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The Game |