paroles de chanson F**k Wit Me - Game
(The
Game)
Yo,
it's
the
nigga
with
the
nasty
flow
and
the
clean
rag
six-four
With
the
D's
spinnin
I
can
bag
a
ho
Top
down
so
my
rag
can
show,
whatever
in
the
dutch
Purple
or
orange
haze
it's
just
a
bag
of
'dro
Hit
snatch
with
my
khakis
on,
Aladdin
Lounge
In
Mark
Jacobs
denim
and
Don
Magli's
on
I'm
a
gangsta
and
the
birds
they
love
it
20
with
a
babyface
and
sit
on
base
like
Kirby
Puckett
You
can't
buy
a
Ferrari
fuck
it,
cop
lle'
from
J
The
bricks
come
with
Louis
Vuitton
luggage
He
order
rock
and
cover
it,
the
dimes
is
free
The
quarters
is
75,
the
ball
is
live
Ain't
nobody
fumblin
on
my
block
We
in
the
field
like
Biggs
or
Marshall
Faulk,
we
runnin
the
rock
Nothin
less
than
a
hundred
a
pop,
anything
less
you
a
cop
Shoot
you
and
take
your
vest
and
your
glock,
motherfuckers
(Chorus)
What'chu
know
about
stackin
G's;
you
got
to
come
fuck
wit
me
Puffin
on
sticky
green;
you
got
to
come
fuck
wit
me
My
team
is
just
oh
so
clean;
you
got
to
come
fuck
wit
me
What'chu
know
about
stackin
G's;
you
gots
to
come
fuck
wit
me
(JT)
I'm
in
the
streets
like
the
place
is
mine,
told
to
cover
my
tracks
I
push
paper
to
increase
my
shine
I'm
on
my
chief,
jumpin
out
the
wagon
like
Tyco
And
get
the
kind
of
paper
that
these
niggaz'll
die
fo'
Bossed
out,
camouflage
under
my
vest
B
Motorbike,
fast
cars,
broads
and
jetskis
Rule
#1,
keep
your
eye
on
your
cash
flow
Cause
rule
#2
will
get
rid
of
your
best
so
None
of
'em
best
show,
ridin
in
stress
mode
'Less
they
got
petrol,
pushin
that
Benz
slow
Pick
up
the
Game,
let's
count
some
cash
Then
we,
get
to
the
do',
then
you
put
on
your
mask
On
some
other
shit,
ridin
wit'cha
boy
now
We
on
the
West
coast,
seek
and
destroy
now
It's
like
when
Cal-Berkeley
whooped
on
that
Georgetown
We
had
a
riot
in
the
streets
fin'
to
blow
now
fo'sho'
now
(Chorus)
(Verse
Three
- unknown)
The
underboss,
ill
too
fast
Buildin
my
stocks
off
the
blocks
and
the
wears
will
sag
Not
Gil
but
tryin
to
top,
the
nerd
Bill
Gates
From
the
city
of
project
buildings
and
them
mossberg
K's
San
Francisco,
West
coast,
Northern
Bay,
California
Man
it's
Get
Low
so
best
to
toast,
or
torch'll
spray
on
ya
Uhh,
makin
mafia
moves,
skate
from
the
cops
Yeah
they
tried
stoppin
ya
dude
But
nah,
the
ball,
it
don't
stop
A
shot
callin
if
I
fall
then
my
thoughts
gon'
flock
Yeah,
underboss
with
Game
and
Doc
Figgaro
Clear
{?}
and
I'm
the
in-di-vi-dual
Holdin
weight,
in
the
dope
state
Tokin
the
8-8,
oh,
fold
{?}
Watch
our
bread
and
our
team
skyrocket
Visualize
I
can
rip
beam
on
the
cash
and
not
8 guys
can't
stop
it
(Chorus)
1 SLOe MOe INTROe
2 Walk Thru the Sky
3 Troublesome
4 F**k Wit Me
5 Business Never Personal
6 For My Gangstaz
7 I'm a Mobsta
8 Drop Ya Thangz
9 We Are the Hustlaz
10 Truth Rap
11 Born and Raised Compton
12 Eat Ya Beats Alive
13 Money Over Bitches
14 The Game Get Live
15 Just the Beginning
16 SLOe MOe OUTROe
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