The Game - Cocaine lyrics

Published

0 273 0

The Game - Cocaine lyrics

You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherf**ing Impala? (b**h Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Parked at the light, give a f** about a b**h n***a Only n***a worth six figures that still click triggers On my way to LAX, f** the freeway Riding through South Central in the 'Wood like I should But I'm a Compton n***a, west side monster n***a You should know by now, I f** with all kinds of n***as Call Big U and we going to see about that vagina in you You don't bang huh? That's that out of town in you My n***as eat late night, Mel's Diner menu You a shooter? Better have that North Carolina in you I had wolves at all kinds of venues Dub's show I let the snub show Shall I continue? f**ing n***as up like it was '05 Like Dre just listened to my whole demo and cosigned Talking out your neck, get you buried in no time I heard you n***as looking for me, Blood You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherf**ing Impala? (b**h Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Nip be where the Crips be Skeme be where the Bloods be n***a, I'm with the sh**, give a f** if n***as Cuz me Say the wrong things wrong time, get a blood beef Same color rag, still laying where the subs be Naw f** that n***a I'll have a prostitute to open the trunk and cut that n***a I'll have a couple crooked cops come and touch that n***a Then get a bully in the pen to come and f** that n***a Life is crazy, yeah my life is crazy Don't let Calabasas fool you, I'll k** you baby Bury you in my backyard, sh** I'm sittin on five acres You wanna go to war? I got the paper n***a wanna fade? I got the taper n***a want to shoot? I got the laser Any b**h that want to f**, I got a take it And I don't put no tints on my whip One strap, full clip n***a! You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherf**ing Impala? (b**h Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Bullets coming through the windows and the walls That's on the set, all my n***as on call Don't pray for me, pray for them n***as Menace to society, I'm like Lorenz n***a I want the rims n***a, and your gold chain Don't blame me, blame 80s and c**aine I want the rims n***a, and your gold chain Don't blame me, blame 80s and c**aine Ay yo I wake up, put on chronic like b**hes makeup Kush like Nicki and Meek, it's hard to breakup 38 tucked, take a piss and eat my breakfast Six b**hes at my kitchen table a** naked I got more b**hes than Hugh Heff, n***aI 'm reckless Iced out Playboy pendant hanging from my necklace Used to take a brick chop that b**h up in sections Pack it in the car like its Mexican no flexin' It's that whip work, chop that, sell it out, we cop that On Wimbleton and Brazil in my impala with the top back Where my n***a Top at? Remember them days before you and Rock brought Watts back? We was in Stevenson Village in front your crib n***a Leanin like a top hot, ordering Tommy burgers with everything Cop back my Glock fat nina Ross Akon black Bullets pop up out of nowhere like State Farm BLAT!

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