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game - buddens (remix) lyrics

[game talking]

we got a problem houston, not marques houston or his little rapping side kick, we got a real m-th- f-ckin’ problem, and its only gonna be one of these songs, after that ima knock your m-th- f-ckin’ -ss out

[verse 1]

b-tch n-gg-s get put in the coffin with all that psychopath talking, you listening to the source and i ain’t from boston, i’m gang banging, wear g-6’s call em’ how i see em’, these n-gg-s is b-tches, and clue put this n-gg- on a song and now its g-unit, and i came to get it on, you ain’t hot, n-gg- you look warm, ill hog tie your -ss with g-unit shoes on, you had pump it up that was a koo song, you only sold 10 records n-gg- now move on, talking about you got ratchets and tools on when you was at the all-star game with no jewels on, i cant believe i gave you dap, with the 45 on me i should of gave you that, pistol whipped you laid you flat, jump off buddens nah, disgrace to a yankee hat, and its time to state my biz, only n-gg- pushing rocket jersey is jason kidd, you a phony n-gg- i’ll erase your wig, have you running to the church like mason did.

[chorus]

buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens, buddens

[verse 2]

you don’t know me fool, to diss me on dj clue, i don’t need no -ssistance to dig you a ditch, and any problem i got i just put my clip in, you fake like janet’s t-tty, one call 300 bloods in atlantic city, you bad boy then dance like diddy, i give celebrity beat downs, i bring the camera with me, on that mixtape sh-t you knew my man was 50, and i keep something chrome in them tanish d-ckeys, smoke n-gg-s like a gram of sticky, and i know my way to harlem ill take you to bransons with me, come to compton you’ll vanish quickly, i got n-gg-s in the hood that’ll kill you for a can of mickey’s, gangs of l.a. we never die, and we’ll let hollow tips fly at joe

[chorus]

[verse 3]

i drive through the desert storm kick up dust, red and blue rags hanging out of pick up trucks, get banks on the phone, n-gg- hit young buck, tell em’ we got a problem with this dumb f-ck, you was just in the city of angels in the w lobby in the presence of gangsters, i’m the n-gg- that’ll beat you with the stainless and leave you alive so you can run and tell stain b-tch, i got n-gg-s in jersey that’ll hang you, im a los angeles king with new york rangers, and you lucky yayo got that beeper on his ankle, joe budden is a true definition of a w-nkster

[chorus]

[game talking]

this n-gg- try to act like he ain’t know what the f-ck he was doing, you knew what you was doing n-gg-, stop lying to the f-ckin’ people n-gg-, gone jump on a freestyle n-gg- on that fly sh-t, try to diss g-unit n-gg-, and im on the f-ckin’ first verse, you aint slick n-gg-, i caught that sh-t like a m-th- f-ckin’ greg maddox fast ball n-gg-, 50 get dre on the phone, see if that n-gg- remember what joe buddens second single was, cuz i don’t. i took a survey in the hood n-gg-, went to the projects asked b-tches if they feeling your sh-t, they was like no, haha, i went to the hood asked n-gg-s if they was feeling your sh-t, they was like no, than i went to jersey, caught me a f-ckin flight man took my last 500 dollars man, flew to jersey, asked n-gg-s in jersey if they like your sh-t, they was like no, so i said f-ck it, ima take this n-gg- m-th- f-ckin head off, blackwall street, aftermath, g-g-g-g-unit, you know what it is n-gg- and you know where to find me

- game lyrics

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