game - scream on em lyrics
(feat. swizz beatz)
[swizz beatz]
yeah… y’all really want this to happen? (game time!)
c’mon! … arrrrrrrrgh!
[the game]
homey it’s hard not to kill n-gg-z; it’s like a full time job
not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
young california got that m-ss appeal
i summons the hood, they get up in yo’ -ss for real
knockout flow, winky wright jab for real
and all you n-gg-z p-ssy, need m-ssengil
see i’m the gun-c-cker, one-shotter, lift ’em off the ground
chop ’em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote
sick flow, it’s so, motherf-ckin six-fo’
your b-tch know, hop in the back when you see swizz hoe
diss that, all you n-gg-z get up off my d-ck so
i can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
every n-gg- know game, five shots no pain
and that’s the reason why i’m sh-ttin on you n-gg-z
shut me in the looney bin, i’m sicker than you n-gg-z
[chorus: repeat 2x]
(arrrrrrrrgh!)
this is that disrespectful, motherf-ckin west coast
hip-hop death blow, swizz beatz, let’s go!
[the game]
where i’m from, i seen the most stand up n-gg-z lay down
where skinny n-gg-z make buff n-gg-z victims of that trey-pound
and g-ngb-ngers is the sharpshooters, we don’t need no rooftops
just knock his -ss down and take the money out his tube socks
west coast n-gg-z is back on the map
if only for now until the next time i body a track
from the first clap i hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
bring the he-rs- back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
i roll with the hardest n-gg-z, make money with the smartest n-gg-z
i ain’t got time for you f-ckin artist n-gg-z
better shut your trap before you become a target n-gg-
y’all army brats i’m the motherf-ckin sargeant n-gg-
beauty pageant–ss n-gg-z on the runway
(boyz n the hood) ’til they see the n-gg- in that red hyundai
blow his f-ckin back out, cause i’m the rap stackhouse
black wall street b-tch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?
[chorus]
[the game]
my flow opposite of handsome, it’s ugly
hip hop tantrum, sick, call the sh-t cancer
one man show cause i f-cked all the dancers
let the critics ask questions, my alb-m be the answer
these n-gg-z let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
so i had to take ’em back, to toothbrush on the pumas
clean… mean… rappin machine
red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
i black out like february, back out what’s necessary
oh-seven bugatti with jimmy iovine’s secretary
i’m runnin the buildin, don’t make me run in the buildin
no this ain’t the first time i had my gun in the buildin
walkin past offices i see my son in the buildin
last alb-m on the wall i’m number one in the buildin
they should build me an office up under the buildin
my elevator goin down, i am done in the buildin n-gg-
[chorus]
[swizz beatz]
we in the motherf-ckin buildin man
you ain’t got your motherf-ckin mind right?
you gon’ get your mind blown out your motherf-ckin mind right n-gg-
it is what the f-ck it is man
how y’all wanna cut the cake?
you touch this you get your hands cut off, n-gg-
swizz beatz the motherf-ckin monster
game is in the motherf-ckin buildin
we could turn this whole motherf-ckin world red n-gg-
b-tch!
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