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the game – 100 bars (the funeral) lyrics

[intro]
i’m baack… haha! n-ggas can’t f-ck with me, man
n-ggas is crazy, dog
i run this underground rap sh-t, and the mainstream, n-gga!
i’ma do like boo-boo: diss n-ggas right when they f-ckin’ album come out… and k!ll ’em!

[verse 1]
hear the breakdown, time to separate the men from the boys
take it straight to the bank; call it christopher lloyd
call it momma’s little boy, or 50’s little b-tch
the rotten apple or the protégé of a snitch
the protégé of a b-tch, n-gga softer than a tae bo kick
you billy blanks on them p-rno fl!cks
with no p-rno chicks, only p-rno d-cks
you ty lattimore wh0r- with them g-string drawers
and so therefore, i declare war
outside violator, meet me at four
young buck, stay back; banks, put this autograph
a jorge posada glove on, and let’s play catch!

[hook 1]
(gunshot) that’s for your one platinum plaque
(gunshot) that’s for the n-ggas ridin’ in the back
(gunshot) tryna reach for that sh-t on your lap
(gunshot) that’s for your boss sayin’ he write my raps (gunshot) i’m a k!lla, blackwall gorilla
that pine-box sealer, g-unit cap peeler
i’m realer, 40 oz. spiller
40 glock k!ller, 40 glocc k!ller!

[verse 2]
ask spider, i be creepin’ and crawlin’
spinnin’ webs around you n-ggas
stackin’ bread around you n-ggas
every time you roll up, the feds around you n-ggas
i used to watch everything i said around you n-ggas
twenty n-ggas on the squad, twenty n-ggas in the can
that’s twenty witnesses, twenty n-ggas on the stand
godd-mn, can someone tell them the street code?!
the game is to be sold, and not to be told
this ain’t dre and suge or beans and hov
this is one bullet, one head, and one lost soul
wipe my fingerprints off
and the gun is tossed in with the fishes
like q in juice, i’m comin’ for bishop
i’m gunnin’ for bishop, i’m the king of this l.a. sh-t
tell me, homie, is you blood or crip?
is you thug or b-tch? ‘cause the ese’s say
they don’t never see holmes runnin’ around l.a
fake–ss ghostwriter, get your lil’ flow tighter
‘fore i put you in the trunk of this f-ckin’ low-rider
n-gga, you ain’t nothin’ but hittman in quicksand
got a deal, ‘cause you sucked a couple d-cks, and
turned your back on delany and jimmy henchman
just take this as a warning; don’t flinch, man!
where your rag? you from 1-9-0? no!
you know pap, do you bang east coast? no!
have you ever hopped 1-6-4? no!
do the hood feel your wack–ss flow? no!
so sit your lil’ -ss down somewhere
‘fore i have them n-ggas sit yo’ -ss down somewhere
in the ground somewhere, outta town somewhere
breaking news: body has been found somewhere
now back to the video, look at these silly muh’f-ckers
y’all some silly muh’f-ckers
“i say, hands up, shorty wanna kick it with me.”
get that wack sh-t of bet
turn the channel, all black lambo, red and black flannel
speakers in the trunk, with more humps than a camel
man, i’m sayin’, i ain’t playin’, i’m sprayin’
any n-gga in your clique that ever yelled that sh-t

[hook 2]
(gunshot) muh’f-cker, that’s for yayo and buck
(gunshot) that’s for hot rod promotional truck
(gunshot) that’s for kanye, and beefin’ with puff
(gunshot) tell the n-gga that’s behind you to duck!
(gunshot) i’m a k!lla, blackwall gorilla
any clip filler, mobb deep cap peeler
i’m realer, the hollow-tip driller
the rap godzilla, the lloyd banks k!ller! (gunshot)

[verse 3]
in the diablo, under the tent
n-gga, i’m about a dollar, what the f-ck is 50 cent?
when jay said it, i didn’t know what it meant
now i understand, it’s startin’ to make sense
now the whole world know why i took the i out of g-unit
and replaced it with a mothaf-ckin’ o
remember when you told me meet you on the top, n-gga?
check the soundscan, guess who on top, n-gga!
fake–ss king of new york, you need to stop, n-gga
‘cause you not big, not nas, not jigga
take your steroids, show me what you got, n-gga!
you ain’t had a b-tch since vivica fox, n-gga
last i heard, you sucking on c-cks, n-gga
n0body know, ‘cause they don’t see you on the blocks, n-gga
‘cause you be in the precinct with the cops, n-gga
your whole staff, with a badge and a glock n-gga
mid-town manhattan, tryna stop n-ggas
on the subway, chasing down shop-lifters
all in the streets, talking ’bout you shot n-ggas
then you in the new york times, takin’ cop pictures
i exposed you n-ggas and put out “stop snitchin'”
when the last time you seen him with some hot b-tches?
see what he say when you ask him, “where the hot b-tches?”
check the adam’s apple, n-gga, them is not b-tches
you’re reign on the top was shorter than the legs on a leprechaun; just bow down, n-gga, accept the don
n0body wanna be a hero when the tec is drawn
they’re transformers, folding up, like decepticons
n-ggas bust like pipes when the pressure on
see that light flash when the desert eagle at your dome
every rapper know, from now i’ma set the tone
n-ggas real hard body ’til they head is gone
here come them demons
‘cause they know that you dead and gone
some n-ggas just don’t get it ’til you at the throne

[outro]
n-ggas can’t f-ck with me n-gga! 100 bars, n-gga!
i do 100 bars every mothaf-ckin’ day of the week, n-gga!
that’s 700 bars a week, n-gga!
on this f-ckin’ underground rap sh-t, n-gga!
i can’t be f-ckin’ stopped—period, n-gga!
the game, n-gga! west coast don, black wallstreet, n-gga!
i’m ready to get down when you ready to get down
mothaf-ckas! i’m talkin’ to all you n-ggas!
i can’t be faded, n-gga! n-ggas don’t want it with me, n-gga!
it’s just me, mothaf-ckas! and i’m p-ssed off
got me all on the front of the motherf-ckin’ mixtape
in a f-ckin’ stripper outfit, n-gga, with some g-string’s on
that ain’t me, mothaf-ckas! this is me, mothaf-ckas!
yeah! doctor’s advocate, in stores november 7th
cop it when i drop it, n-gga!
g-g-g-g-g, g-g-g-g-g-g-unot! (gunshot)
g-unit is now officially over. you can mail back your cd’s, apparel, headbands, g-unit spinner replicas and g-unit shoes to 1548 south ardmore drive, los angeles, california, 90743. thank you, have a nice day!

- the game lyrics

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