a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

the game - body bags lyrics

[the game talking]
is 07 sh-t
we runnin’ through summers
in dual hummers
and tell them my crew coming for war

[verse 1]
ay yooooooooooooooo!
i can’t let the day go without lettin’ the k go
now watch his face blow, yayo!
heard you hidin’ in the big apple
better keep hidin’ for them puerto ricans kidnap you
9-3 gangsta ties
haitans down in miami (zoe gang!)
yeah, them haitins down in miami
fat joe don’t f-ck with you, nas don’t like you
so who they gonna blame when the long nose snipe you
potato on the muzzle, black tape on the grip
we in the a-team van with black tape on your b-tch
she gonna tell us where you at
we gonna twist that dro’
and just wait ’til that rat come out the that hole
no, the streets ain’t safe
when we see him we gonna eat that face
no body we gonna beat that case
yeah, it’s on again, two shots of patron i’m in
drive slow and let the motherf-ckin’ chrome extend

[hook: ini kamoze (the game)]
out in the streets they call it murder (whispering: murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(you can’t f-ck with the real!)
out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(n-gga, don’t cross the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
they call it murd..
(you can’t f-ck with the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(n-gga, don’t cross the real!)

[verse 2]
what type of b-tch n-ggas put his hands on kids (h0m-!)
pull up that black van on his (nope)
we don’t do the kid slap, we do the kid sn-tchin’
eyewitness news, there’s been a kidnappin’
feed ’em real good, takin’ home to play with harlem
sit by the phone, just wait it’s your daddy callin’
naah, we don’t get down like that
but 50’s momma we’ll put you in the ground like that
cuuuurtisss
tryin’ to make peace with dipset
but you ain’t even address the beef with jim yet
it’s on now, better call dr. ben and russell
set up a peace treaty or go get some muscle
call the lighty brothers, call all your lil’ flunkies
call the snitch hotline and get the g-unit monkeys
call the cops, i’m still 100 miles an runnin’
then call the god and tell him your -ss is comin’

[hook: ini kamoze (the game)]
out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(you can’t f-ck with the real!)
out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(never cross the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
they call it murd..
(you can’t f-ck with the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(never cross the real!)

[verse 3]
this ain’t “ether”, nah, this ain’t “hit ’em up”
this is a lot of dead bodies, who gonna pick them up
we just shot the corner
who gonna drive the truck
f-ck the whole g-unit who lied to buck
f-ck spider too, now that’s for big fase
i know where you countin’ your sheeps
i’ll have some crips waitin’
youtube banger, tell me how that clip taste
you kiss lakisha in that mouth, tell me how my d-ck taste
i got the crown n-gga, it’s going down n-gga
and los angelesss – it’s my town n-gga!
i got a place where bodies don’t get found n-gga
where the dead sleep and ghost don’t make a sound n-gga
the real 50 cent, he knew jimmy henchmen, the real jimmy henchmen
look at them n-ggas flinchin’
we ain’t gonna do sh-t
i’ll have your crew sit (n-gga!)
so play like them is toy guns and this is just music

[hook: ini kamoze (the game)]
out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(you can’t f-ck with the real!)
out in the streets they call it murder (murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
(don’t ever cross the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(murder, murder, murder… k!ll, k!ll, k!ll…)
they call it murd..
(n-ggas can’t f-ck with the real!)
they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd… they call it murd..
(don’t f-ck with the real!)

[the game talking]
it’s blackwall street n-gga!
is 07, we can’t be f-ck with
try and die, motherf-ckers
i run the world, it’s on!

- the game lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS