Текст песни J-Black, Jugga, Steele, Godfather, P Dap - Game Over (Compilation)
J-Black, Jugga, Steele, Godfather, P Dap - Game Over (Compilation) слова песни
YO this that hot shit"the games peoples play"Game Over nigga, it`s over now"the games peoples play""the games peoples play"[J-Black]It`s time for ya ballers to pass the rotBefore I pass a shot, thru ya vocal boxI ain`t playin no more, lay on the floorI`m the reason they delayin ya tourWhat they payin ya for?You ain`t hot, no wayYou had a lot to sayBefore them hot shots from that glock got popped ya wayNow ya standin there sailin, talkin bout that nigga balanceSeein more blood than us thugs on the IslandI got you trapped like a Puffy contractAnd I ain`t recoup yet, ya sittin up? you betNo where to go nigga, where my dough nigga?With that flow, how you figga you gon` blow niggaThe chances are slim and noneYou better lace up ya Timbs and runHavin a gun in ya face ain`t funI`m about to leave mami with no sonFuckin with J, you done chosed the wrong one[Jugga]This whippa snapper, quote from the Book of RapPick a chapter, hit a track, and split itSmack a critic in the kisserMack a hot and spicy chicken rapperRaise ya hand up to me, and she can stand up and beDamn, I`m smellin plead, who got the chocola-teThat brolic like a ?, prolly had me sloppy on the hot dayDodgin the street crime unit, why?Forty one shots got a sweat sound to it? ha?Plus your own, ethnic group wanna stick ya upBust and hit ya upPut you in the back of that big red and white "come and get you" truckBet you ain`t bet on this, ball till ya fall and got the ref settin this[Steele]Niggas need to watch what the fuck is comin outta ya mouthCuz the shit you talk about can get ya shot in ya mouthI got soldiers from the south that run in ya houseMask on, boots on, gloves on, gats out, gash outBullets flash out, you assed outLayed out, losin blood till ya pass outIf you the best, let`s get in the cage go all outRaw dog, strong arm war and death boutsSteele, I`mma show you what a soldiers aboutYou niggas gonna know who to bomb when I`m blowin you outFuck a record label, Bucktown thuggin it outIn the streets, guzzlin stouts or fuckin ya spouse"the games people play"[Godfather]I watch the beat slip under, over all strength comin numbers2000 Infamous thunder, that raw thru the streets click peepYellin "M-O-B-B"Over doose rap get`s ya off ya feetJetty Jet, Black 5-8, under the seatBlowin trees, ready for beefYou strapped with the world in my lap, ready to eatThe God QB, my life site of a nut, my pops same oneGame Over, daughter born 18th, 92 of OctoberIt`s hard to stay soberHenny went in my throat, we gettin loan to rise thru a aceTurn on a beat, for my niggas in the keysCan`t we live, lost these, they comin all ways fuck geeI`d rather die first put my life on stake [peep that][P-Dap]I burn like a dutch with a lotta teebaChoke from a toke, catch a third degree feverThe best seller, hundred thousand dollar voice flamin offAcappella paid off, dudes on my days offMake sure the dough, I get it betta get it prontoOr I`m send them hooligans to get mine from ya doorsFor the upmost, you had enough, fuck if ya mad enoughBad enough, everything I touch ran to make bucksCuz none of ya can stop meFat heads get up in my pocketsDippin in the wide body rocketThroughout the Metropolitan, 88 chasin meRoad blocks up ahead, doin a buck 83Bust thru the barricade, made it to the studio safeGrab mics make it yell "wait, wait"Head phones on my mellon and yellin for jakeDealin with the case properly, my nonchalant way, talk to me"the games people play""the games people play"