The Game - Block Wars lyrics

Published

0 468 0

The Game - Block Wars lyrics

Know what the f** be pissing me off? The other motherf**ers think they running my block. Jump off that f**ing stoop, hit the f**ing gate, n***a grab your burners it's time to go to war. I give the n***as a whole f**ing clip every motherf**ing round in this motherf**er you can get n***as run up on this red '64 You get a white tag on your big toe These ain't punch lines, n***as kick doors Leave your baby mama with her lip swole All handguns, n***as pack light n***a's mouth loose but my strap tight n***as slide through and they bust first We k**in' everybody that night Block wars, we bout that life Scuffed J's and them fist fights Dead bodies on dead bodies Savage, that's what I live like Go and chop a n***a head off f** around, let the rounds hit you Blood splattered on a n***a's [?] All I had to do was give a signal Magazines if you got an issue Hit one n***a with the source Hit two n***as with the vibe b**h I k** your vibe It's a reason n***as can't f** with ya I'm a Compton n***a and I don't give a f** n***a walk around with that pistol tucked I do drive-bys out a Plenty truck (Murder-murder) Have you ever seen a murder? (Murder-murder) Boom-boom-boom, let 'em Have you ever seen a murder? Have you ever seen a dead body? Got a chopper with some rounds on it Boop-boop, hittin' everybody Turn the corner for your mama house Put a n***a in the trunk co*k your sh** and walk around the corner Promise n***a this ain't what you want n***a ain't what you want n***a ain't what you want n***a ain't what you want No, n***a ain't what you want (Murder-murder) Boop-boop-boop (Murder-murder) Pull up on your block, take that sh** over Stolen choppers out of stolen Rovers Supernova bullets rippin' through Corollas Pure shooter like DeMare DeRozan Hot slugs but the j**elry frozen 12 gauges on the trap sofas Naked b**hes in the kitchen whippin' yola Pockets fat like a young Oprah Told the n***a he ain't want the clip I'm filthy rich and still with the sh** His mama cryin' but his son a b**h I had her view the body like she from the 6 Bullets ricochetin' all through the block n***a run his mouth like he knew the cops I do the shootin' while the shooters watch Then cook crack in a newer pot Move me? Gotta move the block That means take shots like it's Lou Dot n***as talkin' bout the game like it's ESPN I'll put your a** with Stuart Scott No conscious mind, the chronic got My mind blown I can't stop with the murder sh** Burn rubber, burn a clip A lot of n***as died on [?] sh** Murder, murder, murder Have you ever seen a dead body? Have you ever seen a murder? Have you ever seen a dead body? Have you ever seen a murder? Have you ever seen a dead body? Got a chopper with some rounds on it Boop-boop, hittin' everybody Turn the corner for your mama house Put a n***a in the trunk co*k your sh** and walk around the corner Promise n***a this ain't what you want Everybody lay the f** down, you know who it is n***a. Ay, what the f** you doing? n***a come here n***a. Gun in your motherf**ing mouth. n***a put that motherf**ing gun down before I smoke your motherf**ing homie. Ay yo and get all this sh** n***a. I'm about to k** this n***a, f** you n***a. You dying too b**h a** n***a, n***a. Get the f** out of here

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.