The Game - My Flag lyrics

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The Game - My Flag lyrics

{"Mustard on the beat, hoe"} [Chorus One: The Game] Maybe I should iron out my flag (My flag, my flag, my flag, my flag) Maybe I should put another crease in it (Crease in it, crease in it, crease in it) Maybe I should iron out my flag (My flag, my flag, my flag, my flag) If you gang bangin who you beefin with? (Beefin with, beefin with, beefin with) [The Game] I know, your baby never hurt nobody But he got his a** smoked at that Mustard party O.G. Blood, e'rybody know me When I came in with the little homies Skeme! [Skeme] Get out the way yo, get out the way yo That n***a Duke just moved a house in yayo And you know I keep gunners on the payroll I even f**ed with Mitchy Slick down in Daygo Young general these n***az gotta spray for You f** around and catch 20 out this Range Rove' Mane that beef sh** is what a n***a made fo' I open fire on her open mouth, case closed Came in this b**h with Chuck Taylor screamin f** haters Bad b**h I'ma f** later, tryna touch paper In a six-trey rag goin brazy up the ave What I'm drinkin got me thinkin, n***a maybe I should iron out my [Chorus One] w/ ad libs [Jay 305] It's anybody k**a, that's for anybody n***a Mainline, waistside, Westside n***a f** peace, this for Crenshaw Kings Sockin out n***az, f** is y'all mean? Low-key's on drop, give a f** you with yo' momma When it's on it's on; pop it like a bottle of Patrn Then lay back with a b**h n***a this is Westside, Jay 3-0-Fifth No gimmicks, go get it [Mitchy Slick] I went from won't stop bein a Blood to Gangland To my dope kicked in, locked up in a strange land So when they be like, "Slick, why we don't see you on TV or nothin?" sh**, I'm still tryin get off the gang injunction Cause when it come to this pen, I'm amongst the elite You can do a whole damu documentary on just me Call it "The Life of a 100% Real Whooper" They did it for the grams, moves and the hush Yeah dat! [Chorus One] w/ ad libs [Joe Moses] J.M. huh! I put the woop in the woop like my DLB's All I know is VNG's and FTB's I ran fades back to back, that's on STB And if you claimin you a Blood, sh** you better know me Big homie gave me a gun and said "It better be empty" I was 11 years old with a motherf**in .50 I got love for certain n***az, I've been doin this since knee-high And you ain't a real Blood if you didn't bang at the B-hive [RJ] Westside A hats, back in a straight jacket Mister L.A. back, free my 8 track Middle of July, I'm just tryin bring a Maybach Whole city ridin, I ain't even did a Dre track n***a this Athens, made the game mad So East Coast n***az be like "Cuz, you crackin" n***az ain't goin hard, as you should stop rappin I'ma be the street rider 'til the casket Black run the mag [Chorus One]

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