So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong nigga

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Trust me dog, ain't shit you can put in your rap
that'll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that's that
Niggaz thinkin I retired my Chuck, put the gun back in the holsters
Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster
But that don't stop the heater from bangin, or me comin through
Droppin all y'all niggaz with three in the chamber
Keep two mac-10's when I'm rollin, one in the changer
One when I push the button's right next to the cupholder
Dog we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game
Let's say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain
Ain't gotta look over my shoulder, I'm good with the aim
Good with the handle and the bullet's good with the bloodstains
And the coroner's real good with that pickup
A1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up
Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time

Put you niggaz next to each other how I do 'em in line

[Chorus]

[The Game]
Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home
If beef cook then I'm bringin the chrome
If I die then I'm leavin a clone; but if I live
through the drama one mo' time then them boys gotta dig
When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big
When I'm rhymin on the road, I listen to Jig
Bump Nas off that purple, sittin on the block
And when I'm loadin up them clips, I listen to 'Pac
A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo' guns
than F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S got jerseys
And you might get 'em all in the face when shit get thick
Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey
And ain't nuttin to do a driveby in the hood
We ain't even got survival, but I'ma still take that ride
Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it

"Rookie Card"
(feat. JT)

[The Game]
You can catch five, or catch me in the CL-5
Whatever way dog, the Game get live
Keepin it gangsta in a P.D. fitted velour
Late night I'm in Dublin's and I got myself a four
The hood love me, hoodrats gotta hug me
Pop ex, spark the buba, the shit get ugly
Rock the mic anywhere, and I ain't talkin 'bout a concert dog
Talkin 'bout ten niggaz in converts dog
Get it crackin like we out in the yard, and the warden's watchin
Only difference is the whores is watchin
Still love to see a nigga, roll up on 20's
Hop in that six-four, roll up on Bentley's like
I'm a gangsta bay-bee from the C-P-T
Run with the (Pound) like I'm from DPG
If it's beef, you C-Murder like it ain't No Limit

And I represent the P like Russell Simmons

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
I'm a neighborhood superstar, get it, right
Got it? Good, okay
It's the Black Sox and Get Low we get dough
In the Yay they pimp hoes, in Compton we six-fo'

[JT]
I know ya, love to watch me, 'specially when I'm lookin rocky
The trey with the broccoli with my handles on the Kawasaki
Handle my jewels with the cuff in my shoes
Avi jacket on my elbow, 50 coast the jewels
In my neighborhood I'm Young Bill Gates, never shuffle the cake
So cover my face, and run up in the place
I'm a superstar, dick and my chain, glass bezel and bang
80 karats on my pinky and rang
Crews buzz when you speakin my name, cause I'm deep in the game
With top cool thangs and million dollar planes
I'm a maniac, young boy gone, like a young Roy Jones
You ought of my zone and ain't nobody home
In my neighborhood, produce stars, stakes is high
Now we soarin through the spacious skies
Strap yo' body with them K's and ride, the handle is up

Switchin gears, hit the pedal and ride

[Chorus]

[The Game - fading out]
I'm a shining star
And I gotta hit the boulevard in that new Jaguar
Why he move through traffic like that, purple haze
Ralways, the Ojays, the gangsta lean so...

"Promised Land"

Sometimes I wonder
Man, how long is it gon' be for my people to come out
Man we strugglin, it's hard sometimes, but
Tomorrow's better than yesterday, uhh

[The Game]
I was, born in the slums, struggled from day one
Ray Charles vision, blinded by the light from the sun
No navigation, no sense of direction, darker complexion
made it hard to live; dad, how you fathered your kids?
Stranded on the highway of life, left us out to die, left us out to dry
Shhhh, I'm still here, my mother's cries
Nigga no father figures make harder niggaz
Through the years, went to war with niggaz from what I saw in the picture
Now your son is bigger, 13, but just like you
Moms said I would grow up and be just like you
From what you did to my sister she disliked you
Sixteen, eleventh grade, look at me just like you
Gunnin for riches, runnin hoppin project fences
Street corners to Arizona, how I earn my digits
And I'm far from finished, gamin 'til my coffee diminish

Why pray for the afterlife when mines just beginnin, huh

[The Game]
Only son by our mother, no brothers, only sisters by this one
Every time I kissed one I missed one, let me explain
Eight years before the game, everything came with pain
Watch the fate of my family slain would never see good times a-gayn
Cursed with pain by a nigga with no shame
My father, that have the same name as his father
My grandfather wouldn't believe, he pulled up our family tree
I can see him rollin over in his coffin
I'm left with often, thoughts of how could you molest your daughter
They say that's ten times worse than manslaughter
Man you oughta, be dead in a grave
But it wasn't my call, so instead you sat in a cage
High-powered, two-hundred and fifty pound, six-five coward
Woulda been dead in an hour
Heard you was scared to take a shower, scared of the yard

Your end is near, you shoulda been scared of God, motherfucker

[The Game]
All my niggaz listen, huh
I stay a step ahead of the rest of y'all
Why I gotta keep a vest for y'all
Though I made it dog I still stress for y'all
Funny how my folks think rap money stretch so far
Pray to God my niggaz see through all the checks and the cars
I'm tryin to invest in what's ours, gimme a couple of years dog
I'll turn your tears stress and your scars
into lawn chairs and green grass in your yard
I'm tryin to watch my kids wrestlin yours
Not have to get 'em ready for school and strap a vest on 'em all
I know sometimes it get hard
Keep your head up mami, reach for the stars
Havin a child is like a blessing from God
You just gotta work hard, can't let your youngest star strip in that bar
I feel your pain, this shit is rippin my heart
But where and when do we start, listen to the voice in back of my mind
Can't reach all my women so I attack it in rhyme
I know what you're feelin, I'm wripin ya tears ma, it could happen in time
For now I take your tear strife sufferin, imagine it mine, huh

"Gutta Boyz"
(feat. Sean T)

(We gangsta daddy!)

[Sean T]
Yuh!
I'm sippin on that 'notiq the color of Hulk man
And the blueberry smoke got a nigga twerkin
You niggaz is perkin - so you doin it big?
You roll deep but when I see you it's just you and your kids
I roll sick, my rims feel like helicopter propellers
And my pockets run deep like a Mercer teller
Haters trip when they see the whip dippin by
The paint on it change like the I-95
I'm just Clyde, without the Bonnie, I got the hollowpoint
heat for you niggaz and the po' for the mamis
Sean Gotti, I'm puttin an end to camraderie
I'm lettin off heat, 'til them eyes get watery
Some gon' ricochet, some gon' hit, y'all gon' get 'em
Fluids gon' disperse out like refreshin club serum
I'm deadly as bite venom but I'm far from a snake

I'll hit you up on your birthday while you cuttin your cake

[Chorus: The Game]
We gangsters nigga; you see the cars, the whips
The chains, the fuckin broads we with
We gangsters nigga; we'll come through your hood
a hundred deep and empty the whole clip
We gangsters nigga; we got guns for the beef
And my niggaz'll put you under the street
We gangsters nigga; so you better watch what you say
'Fore I empty the whole glock in your face

[Sean T]
Streets is tough, but ain't no hopscotch lines on the ground
Just burner shells, and police siren sounds
Niggaz know who I am in the town; it ain't a circus
But it might as well be, cause you know I'ma clown
I'm a terrain boss, I know most niggaz envious dawg
And if a nigga owe me change you better give me it dawg
If you feelin like you wanna leap, make like a frog
You niggaz lame, transparent like Wonder Woman's plane
I'm a stunna in this game, a federal figure
Blowin doj' in the hummer, 50 K on my fingers
I'm like a NASCAR winner poppin Mo' and Bill{?}
D-Squad don't give a fuck about nobody else
I pull a {?} to contain your whole, clique for hours
The end result will probably be, pinewood and flowers
So I'll advise you deduct your QP's and powder