Outro-The Game/JT The Bigga Figga

Outro (feat. Jt the Bigga Figga) - The Game [Intro] Not! *echoing* Blackwall Street The Game Beach Boy Charli Baltimore (he wears a red bandana) Rockstar We are the Black Gang Free Shye Motherf**kers! (he wears a red bandana) [Chorus] On the front of murder talk (he wears a) On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) The whole world know (he wears a) Every ni**a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the NYPD (he wears a) Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana) All the Pirus know (he wears a) Even my crip niggaz know (he wears a red bandana) [Verse 1] Chea chea Dear God let me clense my soul, throw away all the rims and the gold O no I can't do that, do I love God? True dat, but I got a gun so move back I'm loco like 5 eases in the side of Chevelle ridin on low pros I'm a renegade ride with the 44, been a gangbanger all my life, f**k the popo I ain't never been a cocky kid, know they could kill me if they shot Pac and Big But I let my bandana hang, in the city of angles we gangbang I move that chronic and yayo, way before I met 50, Banks, Buck and Yayo Ask Eminem, even Dr.Dre knows, I put one in last ten in the range rov Used to push that rock like Jay Hov, you better lay low when the ak blow Or get wings and a halo, run to the hood and tell 'em I'm the ni**a they gotta pray for Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah I said run to the hood and tell 'em I'm the ni**a they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low [Chorus] On the front of murder talk (he wears a) On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) The whole world know (he wears a) Every ni**a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the NYPD (he wears a) Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana) All the Pirus know (he wears a) Even my crip niggaz know (he wears a red bandana) [Verse 2] Chea chea I'm a gangbanger don't get it f**ked up You ain't never bang, you ain't never laces chucks up So how the f**k you gonna criticize me I ain't the reason niggaz is bangin the NYC Makin b******t threats on the M.I.C. I don't wake up in cold sweats when I sleep I live comfortably, with a red rag tied Around the 45 in case ni**a try to come for me Mad cause I started my own company I don't know what the f**k niggaz want from me Except something for free Before The Documentary dropped, you b**ch niggaz wasn't bumpin me And to some degree, I gotta keep that 4-5th under me, I don't run from beef It's either cock back, squeeze Or be underneath cause I'm from the streets of (Compton) And my grandmother died before I was multi Wasn't raised right cause my parents was both high High off coc*ine, my introduction to the d**e game came in 85 watchin soul train Mama told me I was the future, and one day I'd be high like Soul Plane Just don't bang/ but back then I'd do anything for a jheri-curl and a gold chain Niggaz always got something to say Like they ain't never bumped N.W.A. Punk niggaz talk sh*t, but when they need hits they come runnin to Dre Niggaz come to LA when they need to talk Cause Kanye told everybody Jesus Walks Bush killed more niggaz in the towers then gangbanging ever did That's why they need New York [Chorus] On the front of murder talk (he wears a) On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) The whole world know (he wears a) Every ni**a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the NYPD (he wears a) Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana) All the Pirus know (he wears a) Even my crip niggaz know (he wears a red bandana) [Outro] Yeah motherf**kers Chuck Taylor Oh you thought i forgot about that alias huh? I'm going back to my roots G-Unit is dead As a staff, a record label, and a motherf**kin group Your clothes can't sell Your shoes are straight garbage Your movies suck! Chicken Little killed you ni**a Hahahaha *echos* How you like it ni**a I took your style I ain't doin no third verse I'm just talk to you ni**a Like you do when you get mad at me cause you can't f**k with me lyrically motherf**ker!!! You gonna do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks You like the rap linsey lohan you f**kin faggot Write 8 bars about me ni**a I do this sh*t all day 50! Curtis Jackson Boo Boo Marcus... Snitch Blackwall Street C.E.O. motherf**ker! Hurricanes in stores December 26th Stop Snitchin Stop Lyin the DVDs in stores December 6th It's a tell all ni**a Wait till my movie come out I'm glad it ain't based on my life With that knock off 8 mile sh*t You could never be eminem motherf**ker You ain't lyrically inclined enough to be jay-z, nas, b.i.g. or pac And in the modern day... today, tomorrow, next week You can't f**k with the game ni**a! Out