The Game - 360 Degrees lyrics

Hey, Skee, tell 'em I'm goin' away for a while muf**a's wanna see me dead muf**a's wanna see me in tha feds b**hes wanna give me head dollas in my bank account Soundscan the first week out muf**a's on my dick muf**a's talkin' sh** hit a breakdown, I'm the king, and you better respect it all i need is Beyonce,AND A Rockafella necklace n***a, you can check up on it I'm a slim thug Cincinatti fitted with the red and black rim, blood gave n***as 300 bars, 2 mixtapes, and a DVD I did it for the CPT Did it for New York Did it for Chi-town ran through hip hop and made these n***a's lie down I'm goin' away for a while, call it a California vacation I call it a Bentley with a smile =) God Bless the child with incredible style, n***a sicka than the West Nile Who's king of the West now? I'm puttin' my vest down, n***as ain't gonna k** sh** Shut the f** up,n***a, you ain't gon' k** sh** Rappers don't k** rappers, guns k** rappers And I be with real crips, real bloods, real clappers f** rappin', these n***as'll push ya grill backwards fasta than Iraqi's when Bush attacked'em My flow semi-automatic Touch'n pussies is my job, you a b**h, this is s**ual harra**ment n***a get a lawyer when The Game comin' for ya My jab like zab on a chin of Da Lahoya I'm tha golden boy, and I'm makin' Hova noise got tha whole world clappin just like them Noya Boys Since a juvenile, i had to prove my style Went from Kay Slay to DJ Clue then blaw( 20 magizine covers,n***a look at me now You need a hot 16? I need a hot hundred thou 'causez half of these rap n***as just be runnin' they mouth The other half in the ATL runnin' the South 10 mil in the bank, 7 bedroom house, i'm rich, so on my 30th birthday, I'm out n***a, i'm so ahead'a time, and i spit betta lines, betta rhymes Every time n***as hate on me so much, I feel like I'm Kevin Federline "f** it I'm rich, for nothin', tell the media, get off'a my dick You with me? my next album gon' sell like Britney I beat on these rap n***as like Bobby do Whitney No more drama, no more beef wit 50 And if ya just tunin' in, welcome to the 360, welcome to the 360, welcome to the 360 Right back where I started, in Compton, takin' out the garbage Where Crips and Bloods shoot it out like Pearl Harbor That was '95, when Cube was in his prime You bought ya Lethal Injection, and I bought mine Rewind to '89, got my first mixtape My brotha bought it for me, they used to call him Big Fa$e But now, we ain't brothers, n***a, we ain't sh** And you livin' in my shadow like Marcus Vick And I heard about ya little rappers talkin' sh** Stay out my family business or you get a coffin quick I ain't changed, same n***a that got off them bricks Got signed to Dr. Dre because his bars are sick Gettin' head on tha road 'cause his cars are sick And he rymed so good I had to pause the sh** I tell her boomp, slow down baby, I gotta get this sh** firm like Foxy, Nas, and AZ She said f** you pay me, so I left her in A.Z. That's what i get for lettin' her listen to my Jay-Z f** a b**h, give me a 40, I'll take that Dress up for the Grammys, but i still don't drive Maybachs n***a, I'm a gangsta, and homie don't play dat Stand way back, and get your a** clapped ASAP n***a, this the payback You want beef, say that I'll have a hundred Hurricane hoodies where you lay at Get ya whole click wet, makin' up Crip sets, n***a got ran outta New York by Dipset Then he got ran outta Compton by my set Banned from Watts, can't even walk through his projects n***a so lame, talkin' he gang bang Won't bust a shot, and tha n***a know where i hang I'm Big Daddy Kane in the platinum chain, the fact remains,The Game dont' rap for fame Game rap for fun, Game blast his gun, 'n Game got a rappin' tongue, so that ba*tard's done Be easy, I might give you a pa** this once I'm Ready To Die, but I don't wanna basterd son n***a, I rap too good, and I'm back in the hood On the same couch I put my demo and the package for Suge After one meeting I was right back in the hood Red bandana hangin' sellin' crack in the hood Now it's Aftermath for good Any n***a mention Dre get a Desert Eagle shoved in his face How that taste? Blow ya sh** out fa real Call Nelly or Paul Wall, tell 'em make you a grill I cook beef like a steak on the grill Got tha clips on hold, but I ain't pharrel n***a I'm for real , my flow ill like smoke in ya lungs I spit sharp, like a razor blade under my tongue n***a, I'm number one, motha f**a Bar none, who else kick knowledge outside'a Hoa''n the God Son 'N we can bar for bar, co*ks**er, drop some Watch me take flight like Tom Cruise in Top Gun You might win some, but you just lost one I beat on these lil' n***as like Doctor Dre's drums Look at these muf**a's tryin'a prove theyselves Thinkin' beefin' wit Hurricane gon' boost they sells Never that, muthaf**a, I'm a clever cat Kanye West and slacks, n***a, I'm as fresh as that Ask Dre, ask Snoop, I'm nice I'm Cube, I'm Jacob, I put rapper's on ice "Hey, Skee, let me ask you a question-If you take the 120 bars, put it with the 240 bars, then add a 360 bars, with one Kevin Federline, what do you get? (a million) "Let's get tha f** outta here, man, let's go find somethin' to do.