Game - Church For Thugs |
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Church For Thugs
Game To all my niggas on the porch getting their hair braided Corn rolled by a L.A. bitch My niggas riding the train Yankee fitted Thermals under that Pelle shit And I can't forget And I'm proud of it I love New York but gangbanging that's L.A. shit Haters you know who you are you can turn it down fuck it Spit it through the wire so the crowd love it I can shoot a video to it and spend half the budget I'm gangsta, let the .40 cal blow in public More hatred inside my soul than Pac had for Delores Tucker Every time one of my niggas get shot the more I suffer I seen it all through the Range tints Cause we trapped inside a world where your forced to die for your colors Got niggas doing life in the state pen So I dread like Jamaicans If I die for one of my statements Than break up the streets of Compton and spill my blood in the pavement Believe me niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal And then I come through strapped to see what's up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down Niggas keep sayin they gon heat me up And then I come through strapped to see what's up Talking that shit like they goin lay me down Niggas really don't know parts of me pal [Verse 2] Who I gotta talk to who I gotta write get my reebok deal done or im stayin in air nikes Aiight, I handle bars you ain't gotta ride a bike To peep game and his skill here go some training wheels Let's roll Through the city of god Where LA niggas train to kill For real naw Pharrell I need a track homie Chop you up hundred times worse than the Haitians will Dre we to close aint no turning back homie Deal with it I'm a be here for ten years Let me paint this picture Spittin like the ghost of Eric Wright and Big yeah While you sit here thinking in the back of your mind this is the shit yeah I spit for you niggas doing 25 on they 5th year ready to throw a nigga off the 5th tier Them white boys in the Abercrombie and Fitch gear And every nigga who ever helped me get here [Verse 3] Now three bricks, four bricks The boy moving weight One brick, two brick I'm driving upstate Five Bricks, six bricks The nigga got cake Not rap money, but money been rap since `88 Niggas steady hate, to the heckler at Koch Look at the world we live in Leave him chopped up like freddy's face Niggas catching feelings Cause I'm about millions And outta all the newcomers out, my flow's the illest A banana to a guerilla You a close second nigga, The best of both worlds Put us in the same cage and I'ma have to peel `em Rapping and drug dealing Run and tell the chief I came to burn down the village The head honcho, staring out the third story window Of my Beverly Hills condo With two long ass heats I call `em Shaq and Alonzo You niggas want me outta L.A. Yeah I know |
