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jamal - the game lyrics

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[intro]
man 1 – you got the sh-t?
man 2 – what? f-ck you mean do i got the sh-t, n-gga? the f-ck
man 1 – cmon, man
man 2 – think i’m just comin’ here to bullsh-t?
man 1 – hey man, wh-ssup man, why you gotta get all hostile n sh-t?
man 2 – what? n-gga what? why the f-ck i gotta get hostile, n-gga? n-gga is you-what? n-gga what?
[gunfire]

in the ghetto
i knew this wild n-gga named slim(?)
lived his life as a sin
and packed a black mac-10

wore a lot of je-wels
to show he had not
lost his money a lot
cross slim(?), you get shot

a house on the hill
where he stashed all his bills
freak b-tches on the weekends
with n-ggas that k!ll
discuss keys at the table with ‘bangers
head-hangers
their life before c0ke
that made them win dough

now they put their work on out-of-towner drug lords
to make ’em feel their manhood
and get the things they couldn’t afford
peep, this sh-t is h-lla
listen to what i tell ya’
journey with some real ghetto dwellers

i’m just, chillin’ on the block
with the glock c-cked
and i got it locked
now it’s my dope spot
the plot, was like, 3 on the dot
get the product, duck
i’m leavin they stash spot knocked
(put ’em up!)
get the keys, use the gangster b-tch for bait
she ran up on em screamin’
i had the infrared beamin’
and i don’t hesitate
(why?)
it’s time to regulate
(uh-huh)
i c-ck back, let off three from the tec then i break

back to my rest
and i ain’t throw away my gun
i change clothes
in case somebody saw what i wore
when i tore that lame’s -ss out the frame
never will i come dumb
i’m just young to the game
the same day
i was supposed to make dough
y’know
cut it up in slabs of oz(?) and roll them hoes
no hesitation gots no time to get done up
the doper my sh-t, the bigger my come-up

what must i do about the envy’ing some
(nothin’)
they won’t last while i shine like the sun
keepin the cops all clocked
cos the block is locked
i got a quarter-mill stack
prayin not to get popped
ooh it’s hot!

n-ggas get mobbed, they try to stop
the clientele is deep
with powders and ready rocks with blue tops
drop-tops and the glock c-cked
cos what go around come around
in the city that’s hot

spittin my man pac (?)
on the steady block
with pushers on each corner
went from bottom-rock to top
k!lla friends that’ll rob for your rings and watch
angel dust to boost the high up a notch

now times has changed
gettin real scary
last week i identified five in the obituaries
little n-ggas want it all and enticed
to be precise – “f-ck rhymin'”
a tec and shoot dice to be nice
k!ll a n-gga for the tommy hilfiger
or the polo
shootin’ game at the neighborhood ho’s
“you better slow down”
my old head said
“you think you the baddest thing [?]”
i couldn’t turn back
(why not?)
no gettin out
once i’m in it then i’m in it for life
and as it turns out
i caught that body
the cops is on scout
i can’t trust my clout
i gotta lay-low down south

i reminisce watchin’ b-tches suck a bone
sick mind sittin’ on a settee
so i phone home
during my rap i heard my fam got jammed on the turf
possession of a gram and a hammer
i hope he don’t snitch in the slammer

[outro (repeat) – redman]
i be just
coolin with my n-ggas on the block
smokin weed by the cess spot
and it don’t stop
i be just

(hahahahahahahaa
as we take ya’ll black funky -sses on another journey
to the dark side
aww sh-t
jamal represents in this motherf-cker
blowin your brains on different terrains
comin straight out of philly as we take the chocolate city
onto another era
(?) all day
all night long as we drop it to the one, two
this is doctor travis, signing off
trick b-tches)



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