the game - get dollaz lyrics
[hook – tyrese (game)]
see i been around the world gettin’ dollars
black cards and p-rn stars, holla
(f-ck him, you should be ridin’ with me)
and i’ll probably put d-ck to your favorite chick, no
(she know what’s up, n-gga jump in the v)
because i’m ballin’, cause i’m ballin’, ballin’
(hey yo n-gga you ain’t supposed to open them f-ckin’ shrimps with your hands, n-gga, international n-gga)
[verse 1 – game]
mothaf-cka it’s young hoffa, the don dada
none hotter, red polo fleece, air force 1’s, prada
’07, 600, kit robus
they can’t rob us, approach the car, get shot up
shoot back, bulletproof sh-t
the roof is transclusive, hop out the top shootin’
at your ball cap, fall back or get you all clapped
five shots, hecklor & koch over them tall stacks
i bluff haters, pull quick, can’t shake us
like cr-p shooters in vegas fallin’ out for the paper
n-gga we don’t stop, till all the don bottles is popped
we tote glocks andthrow back rocks, patron shots
all n-ggas know not to infultrate my crew
we get money and f-ck b-tches better than you
i’m not sean, i’m the top don, more like the top gun
call tom cruise and tell him we got one
yo, first compton n-gga to ever go to mo’ f-ckin’ france and eat french fries, n-gga
it’s what i do, i’m rich game, b-tch, respect me, n-gga
can’t f-ck with me, n-gga
the black jim hoffa
[verse 2 – game]
hold up, yo the kid’s back with big stacks, f-ck the chit chat
cl!ck-clack, c-ck the fo’ fifth back
bang, in broad day, mid-town manhattan the broad way
of any p-ssy project hallway
it’s the black rag -ss-ssin over benjamins i’ll hop out blastin’
dodger fitted, three holes in my ski mask
paper plates on the magnum, toe-tag ’em
white bag ’em, cops can’t find evidence so they harr-ss him
big money, beat cases, got lawyers to eat cases
taylor, versace suits and brief cases
i make bail and take sail somewhere in the bahamas
in my condo feedin’ piranhas
n-ggas can’t beat him, better hop in the lambo with him
my flow hot, create water falls in 7 denim
same rules apply for joe’s jeans, ed hardy and true religion
hop out the roof is missin’
gone
[hook – tyrese (game)]
see i been around the world gettin’ dollars
black cards and p-rn stars, holla
(f-ck him, you should be ridin’ with me)
and i’ll probably put d-ck to your favorite chick, no
(she know what’s up, n-gga jump in the v)
because i’m ballin’, cause i’m ballin’, ballin’
(hey yo n-gga you ain’t supposed to open them f-ckin’ shrimps with your hands, n-gga, international n-gga)
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