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The Game - Blood Moon: Year Of The Wolf Album Lyrics



The Game - Blood Moon: Year Of The Wolf Lyrics






Bigger Than Me

[Hook:]
These niggas ain't bigger than me
These niggas ain't Nas ain't Jigga to me
These niggas ain't Em, they ain't 50 to me
You ain't Pun, you ain't Pac, you ain't Biggie to me
These niggas ain't Crips, they ain't 60's to me
These niggas ain't Bloods, they ain't dripping with me
Niggas talking that shit, bout the new generation
Man F*ck these niggas, I'll slash your f*cking faces

You niggas ain't sold shit, not an album or a rock
Pussy nigga putting rings on my old bitch
Dick down the throat ass niggas
Old ho' ass niggas
Happy cause you went gold ass niggas
These niggas ain't spitting with me
You ain't sicker than me
F*ck out my section you ain't sitting with me
This for very important people
It's clear that we not equal
Clear you niggas faggots, I'm the black Marshall Mathers
Like "ying, ying, ying" on a motherf*cker
Who needs Hulk Hogan when you got Sting on this motherf*cker?
Less than five albums, Kiss the Ring on this motherf*cker
California throne and I'm the King on this motherf*cker
I don't wanna hear it
Weak ass lyrics
Crying on the hook, thinking we gon feel it
Old lost ass niggas
Voice crack when you talk ass niggas
Rolling blunts for them boss ass niggas

I came in with Ye', Jeezy and boss ass niggas
Your Freshman cover a whole bunch of soft ass niggas
Tampon lyricists, evacuate the premises
Mute BET Cyphers, cause I don't wanna hear that shit
May you Rest in Piss, you f*ck niggas
Aye, Frank Ocean go ahead and f*ck these niggas (yeah they f*ck niggas)
Ain't no 3 stacks in your class
Take your Top 10 spot and shove it up your ass, bitch boy
Niggas already f*cked your bitch, you bitch boy
And every time you kiss your bitch you suck my dick, bitch boy
And when you buy that ho a bag that bitch carry my bricks, bitch boy

I was in the Double-XL
Red Chucks round my neck
I was the G in the Unit
Had Buck in my set, word to the rhymes
Had Bust a bust around my set
Gave Who Kid a Glock in case they bust round my set
I'm from Compton
Where the glocc can't f*ck with that tech
That's on bompton
40 Glocc got socked in his neck
This a spawn in the flesh
F*ck all these pussys, give me any name to call out
Left Aftermath, Dre told me

Black Marshall Mathers, time to show 'em what it's all 'bout
"Ying, ying, ying" on a motherf*cker

[Hook]

Eh Frank Ocean go ahead and f*ck these f*ck niggas
"Ying, ying, ying" on a motherf*cker
"Ying, ying, ying" on a motherf*cker
Drop your single, I drop dreams on that motherf*cker
I should let my daughter scream on this motherf*cker
The industry soft, I should let Miguel sing on this motherf*cker
Ride out
Blood money, we gon' ride out
Ride out
And don't think I won't send six niggas to your hide out
Rich Gang
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CHANNY MOON CASSELLE, JAYCEON TAYLOR, JORDAN MOSELY, RYAN OLSON, STANLEY BENTON
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




F.U.N.

All I do is get drunk and high
I be f*cking nigga's bitches and they be mad as f*ck
They be like

[Hook:]
Man f*ck you niggas
I rob you niggas
I kill you niggas
Cause I don't feel you niggas
I said f*ck you niggas
I rob you niggas
Don't make me kill you niggas
No I don't feel you niggas
Man f*ck you niggas

I told niggas in '05 I don;t f*ck with Maybachs
You wanna hate up, come outisde, just f*ckin' say that
Two things I learned, nigga gotta stayed strapped
And niggas ain't goin' down without a Dr. Dre track
Black boy fly, niggas watch me grew
Niggas studies my beefs and couldn't stomp my flow
(Cause I'm dangerous)
Niggas think they f*cking with me
(Stop smoking angel dust)
Niggas think they smoking on this chronic
(The same as us)
Come within (range of us)
Bullets (your brains are bust)
Ministers get shot, two of these niggas (came to us)
You broke your rent doing your bitch want me
I'm off this OG kush and you the lil' homie
Nigga wanna borrow some weed, I got a lil' homie
Watch how I'm driving, can't let the double cup spill on me
Same block and stop snitchin', mother f*ckers still one me
G-Unit had a reunion

[Hook]

That's on Compton, you looked in the closet with a monster
I eat you alive (man f*ck you niggas)
It feel like Tommy Hilfiger, f*ck niggas I say it again
(Man f*ck you niggas)
I feel lke Remy Ma when she got out of the jail
Look back at the prison like (man f*ck you niggas)
And this time I'm going for the gusto
R.I.P. Justo, will I fall off? F*ck no
California mind nigga, pull it like a truck boat
These crips, these bloods, these esés, they playin' cut throat
You a fish out of water, every MC gets slaughtered
If you ain't Nas, Eminem or f*ckin' S dot Carter
I tie up your wife, pull out my dick jack it off, kiss the knife
Before I cut her, take my jacket off, f*ck her then hit the lights
Rub it in there like Detroit streets, with pictures of me
F*ck her till cops come, then I'm bustin' like

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: CARMOL TAYLOR, TAMMY WYNETTE
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Really

F*ck buyin' jewelry, buyin' ammo
Teflon, bulletproof the Lambo
Hate rats, got my niggas in the fed
Got money in the bank and money on my head
Really? Niggas sound silly
Wanna talk money, yeah, just counted ten milli
Free my nigga Meek Milly, bad bitch out of Philly
Sold that white girl so I guess I sold Iggy
Who you think I give a f*ck about, an enemy?
Think I give a f*ck about the industry?
Pussy ass nigga better Google me
Boy, I really made a million out the f*ckin' streets
Boy, I had a white car back in '04
Back in runnin' wood days and ride low
When bein' a street nigga really meant something
Now niggas sell his soul for a follow
If you wanna talk streets, what it mean to you, nigga?
Take pictures with guns so that make you a killer
Nah, LA Reid gave me that check today
Took that shit to the jacks, empower the hittas
I'm Crenshaw at Fatburger, f*ckin' with Nipsey
And I bet you I'm rockin' my chains
Or I'm in the Watts with Jay Rock or slidin' through Compton with Game
Cause real niggas livin' the same

My auntie did 20 years, my pop did like 16
My partner did a decade so what the f*ck you really mean?
Really, ho, Billie Jean jackets in my video
Causin' all this racket, on a tennis court
Really made a million in a kitchen fork
Skirt, skirt, skirt, skirt, dinner fork
Often offended, I told that bitch to get out when she finished
Need me a bitch that gon' suck me and f*ck me
And freak me and pass me to all of her friends, that's what it is
Verbal telekinesis
Korrupt mixed with Jesus
Big Meech mixed with Yeezus
Keep playin' them games and get shot from them bleachers
I still got my stripes when I'm not wearing Adidas
Got a fresh hairline from Peter
Got me a hockey mask, choppers, started talking fast
Give it to 'em direct just like Jeter
Niggas ain't killing shit, niggas they playing
They saying they killing shit
Got me an A and a K and a 220 trey
And the shit hit, might burn a little bit
I'm like, "Really, little bitches, say really"

F*ck these niggas
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me

Brand new Benz with the top down
In my old neighborhood, all the cop 'round
I don't give a f*ck, motherf*cker, act up
Let him and the police hear how the Glock sound
Comin' with the bullshit, get shot down
Sucker free, no fly zone in my town
And there ain't no discussion
It's simple, you try me we gon' get to bustin'
I promise, my nigga, you want it, my nigga?
My young niggas ready, they goin' on God
They act like they know ain't no God
We so official, for sure, no facade
Trap a nigga shine like I glow in the dark
Still got my .44 in the door
I'n not finna play with you, homie get laid with you
Cement your feet, then it's off in the lake with you
Underestimate you, that mistake I couldn't make with you
I hit you with the K, myself and show you what the paper do
And can't nobody handle you the way I do
Give your boy a K or two, kill you in a day or two
And no disrespect, boy, you violate me, we gon' handle that
Blow your ass off the map
And you still reachin' your hand out for no dap
My demonstration in exchange for your hatin'
I put this flame all in your face, boy you fakin'
We come through in Mercedes and shoot you
You'd think Call of Duty would make it
Bacon, I get my moolah off top
He don't give me my moolah, off top
Give a damn what the naysayers say
And we waitin' a day in the A with the K and I'm gone

F*ck these niggas
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me

Niggas ain't gon' kill shit
I'm ridin' 'round, 7 pounds, nigga, Will Smith
It's a whole heck of y'all and a whole deck of cards
This shit right here you can't deal with
Two ice cubes and some cognac
Spent some time in twin towers, I ain't goin' back
Spent my commissary on some M&M's thinkin' I was Eminem
Runnin' Aftermath in all black
I'll slaughter your house with 5 9's
Leave all of you niggas with crooked eyes
Got the Louisville Slugger, Big Papi Ortiz
Knockin' every button off your buttoned up sleeves
Please that's Jeezy the Snowman
Comin' straight to your window like Bruh Man
Said I ain't killin' your dog but stealin' my hog and f*ck my conscience
Puttin' bullets in your doberman, don't f*ck with Compton
Don't you f*ck with Kendrick, don't f*ck with Problem
Don't f*ck with YG, I'm Mr. Miyagi, Daniel San, I handle them
My handle's dumb, I had no gun
F*ck around, stomp you out in these Durant's or somethin'
I bear arms like Durantula
This rocket launcher'll blow your whole f*ckin' mansion up
And everybody gotta die, put them candles up
How you get caught up in the web with tarantulas?
And for you f*ckin' dumb niggas, let me slow it down
I can screw you like Pimp and Big Boi around
And when a nigga say "Timber", you don't need Ricky Rubio
To let a nigga know it's goin' down
F*ck you clowns, yeah I put the word on you niggas
Don't A$AP Ferg on you niggas
Been all through New York with Diddy
My verse'll Schmurda you niggas
And that's not a shot at T.I.P. or a shot at Gotti
Take shots of Ciroc in a black Bugatti
Got a shotty in a backpack, napsack
Shawty got a black MAC 11, I will catch that body
Like Nasir and Hov when I'm 40 years old
I will still be the pilot that light up the stove
And be cookin' that crack 'til the Doctor come back
And tell niggas that Detox come out this October
Like Ol' Dirty Bastard, I'm finally sober
And verses like this'll get me a new Rover
Get you a new home and a casket
Your funeral boring, I'm glad that it's over
Soulja!

F*ck these niggas
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Clifford Harris, Deandre Way, Jayceon Taylor, Mario Mims, Tahueed Epps
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




F*ck Your Feelings

[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
F*ck buyin' jewelry, buyin' ammo
Teflon, bulletproof the Lambo
Hate rats, got my niggas in the fed
Got money in the bank and money on my head
Really? Niggas sound silly
Wanna talk money, yeah, count it, ten milli
Free my nigga Meek Milly, bad bitch out of Philly
Sold that white girl so I guess I sold Iggy
Who you think I give a f*ck about, an enemy?
Think I give a f*ck about the industry?
Better Google me
Boy, I really made a million out the f*ckin' streets
Boy, I had a white car back in '04
Back in runnin' wood days and ride low
When bein' a street nigga really meant something
Now niggas sell his soul for a follow
If you wanna talk streets, what it mean to you, nigga?
Take pictures with guns so that make you a killer
Nah, LA Reid gave me that check today
[?] empower the hittas
I'm Crenshaw at Fatburger, f*ckin' with Nipsey
And I bet you I'm rockin' my chains
Or I'm in the Watts with Jay Rock or slidin' through Compton with Game
Cause real niggas livin' the same

[Verse 2 - 2 Chainz:]
My auntie did 20 years, my pop did like 16
My partner did a decade so what the f*ck you really mean?
Really, ho, Billie Jean jackets in my video
Causin' all this racket, no tennis court
Really made a million in a kitchen fork
Skrt, skrt, skrt, skrt, dinner fork
Often offended, I told that bitch to get out when she finished
Need me a bitch that gon' suck me and f*ck me
And freak me and pass me to all of her friends
That's what it is, verbal telekinesis
Korrupt mixed with Jesus, Big Meech mixed with Yeezus
Keep playin' them games and get shot from them bleachers
I still got my stripes when I'm not wearing Adidas
Got a fresh hairline from Peter
Got me a hockey mask, choppers, started talking fast
Give it to 'em direct just like Jeter
Niggas ain't killing shit, niggas they playing
They saying they killing shit
Got me an A and a K and a 220 trey
And a [?] hit might burn a little bit
I'm like, "Really, little bitches, say really"

[Hook - Soulja Boy:]
F*ck these niggas
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me

[Verse 3 - T.I.:]
Brand new Benz with the top down
In my old neighborhood, all the cop 'round
I don't give a f*ck, motherf*cker, act up
Let him and the police hear how the Glock sound
Comin' with the bullshit, get shot down
Sucker free, no fly zone in my town
And there ain't no discussion
It's simple, you try me we gon' get to bustin'
I promise, my nigga, you want it, my nigga?
My young niggas ready, they goin' on guard
They act like they know ain't no God
We so official, for sure, no facade
Trap nigga shine like I glow in the dark
Still got my.44 in the door
I'm not finna play with you, homie get laid with you
Cement your feet, then it's off in the lake with you
Underestimate you, that mistake I couldn't make with you
I hit you with the K, myself and show you what the paper do
And can't nobody handle you the way I do
Give your boy a K or two, kill you in a day or two
And no disrespect, boy, you violate me, we gon' handle that
Blow your ass off the map
And you still reachin' your hand out for no dap
My demonstration in exchange for your hatin'
I put this flame all in your face, boy you fakin'
We come through in Mercedes and shoot you
You'd think Call of Duty would make it
Bacon, I get my moolah off top
He don't give me my moolah, off top
Give a damn what the naysayers say
And we waitin' a day in the A with the K and I'm gone

[Hook]

[Verse 4 - Game:]
Niggas ain't gon' kill shit
I'm ridin' 'round, 7 pounds, nigga, Will Smith
It's a whole heck of y'all and a whole deck of cards
This shit right here you can't deal with
Two ice cubes and some cognac
Spent some time in twin towers, I ain't goin' back
Spent my commissary on some M&M's thinkin' I was Eminem
Runnin' Aftermath in all black
I'll slaughter your house with 5 9's
Leave all of you niggas with crooked eyes
Got the Louisville Slugger, Big Papi Ortiz
Knockin' every button off your buttoned up sleeves
Please that's Jeezy the Snowman
Comin' straight to your window like Bruh Man
Said I ain't killin' your dog but stealin' my hog conscience
Puttin' bullets in your doberman, don't f*ck with Compton
Don't you f*ck with Kendrick, don't f*ck with Problem
Don't f*ck with YG, I'm Mr. Miyagi, Daniel San, I handle them
My handle's dumb, I had no gun
F*ck around, stomp you out in these Durant's or somethin'
I bear arms like Durantula
This rocket launcher'll blow your whole f*ckin' mansion up
And everybody gotta die, put them candles up
How you get caught up in the web with tarantulas?
And for you f*ckin' dumb niggas, let me slow it down
I can screw you like Pimp and Big Moe around
And when a nigga say "Timber", you don't need Ricky Rubio
To let a nigga know it's goin' down
F*ck you clowns, yeah I put the word on you niggas
Go A$AP Ferg on you niggas
Been all through New York with Diddy
My verse'll Schmurda you niggas
And that's not a shot at T.I.P. or a shot at Gotti
Take shots of Ciroc in a black Bugatti
Got a shotty in a backpack, napsack
Shawty got a black MAC 11, I will catch that body
Like Nasir and Hov when I'm 40 years old
I will still be the pilot that light up the stove
And be cookin' that crack 'til the Doctor come back
And tell niggas that Detox come out this October
Like Ol' Dirty Bastard, I'm finally sober
And verses like this'll get me a new Rover
Get you a new home and it's in a casket
Your funeral boring, I'm glad that it's over
Soulja!

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Christopher Brown, Dwayne Carter, Jaycone Taylor
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




On One

[Verse 1 - Game:]
Look stop going through my cellphone
(Please), bae trippin', I don't know what the hell wrong
Bae dippin' she on some shit
I got her Louis luggage packed for the longest trip
I'm like girl, you ain't my baby mama (no), you ain't my girlfriend (no)
All up in the club, niggas tryna f*ck
Holdin' bottles up, get you caught up in that whorlwhind
I text her like "King what you doing?"

[Hook - King Marie:]
I'm in the club feeling nice, I'm on one
(I hate that I ever met you, I hate that I ever met you)
Boy when I drink with you, I'm on one
Damn it boy I hate you so much
(I hate that I ever me you)

[Verse 2 - King Marie:]
You can blame yourself, for doing it to me
Damn I hate you so much, got me feeling like Kelis
Yeah, there's so many girls, to my left and my right
If I get one more drink, I'mma switch to the other side

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Ty Dolla $ign:]
In the club feelin' nice, she bet I roll the dice
She give me that wet wet, I give her this pipe ooh
I fly her out when I be out of town
F*ck her in the room with the speakers loud, yeah
She give me head on the highway
She say her favourite position is sideways
Found out she ain't the only girl
Sent me staright to the voicemail
I text her with a "f*ck you at?"
She hit me with

[Hook]

[Verse 4 - Game:]
I know
You a dime piece, but I ain't no side piece
And who this other nigga? Cause I got my side piece
And I got my side chick, replacement killers
This baby sittin' Versace
You hate me bitch, but wish you sittin' beside me
In the 'Gatti, feelin' like Irv when I swerve
Watch me murder the curb
Bet it murder your mind, she got words for you birds

[Hook]

I thought you loved me?! You was my baby! My f*ckin' cinnamon apple! My rose!
You was always there for me! And you wanna leave me for some f*ckin' dumb ass nigga?! For some dumb nigga!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ISABELLA JANET FLORENTINA SUMMERS, JAYCEON TERRELL TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Married To The Game

[Verse 1 - Game:]
I do, I'm getting married in this motherf*cker
See that black Ghost? It's getting scary in this motherf*cker
Sittin' on a hill son, carryin' this motherf*cker
Red guts, popped a cherry in this motherf*cker
I got that White boy, Barry in this motherf*cker
And I got Homes nigga, Larry in this motherf*cker
See you on them cameras, Jason Terry in this motherf*cker
If gay is happy, I'm Tyler Perry in this motherf*cker
House in the water, need ferry to this motherf*cker
And I got cheese, thinkin' dairy in this motherf*cker
More gold bottles than you can carry in this motherf*cker
Peach Ciroc, Red Berry in this motherf*cker
Let me see you shake it for a real nigga
She gone think she in a fairy tale once that pill hit her
Even though she out of her mind, I'm a to deal with her
Might let Drizzy Drake, French, and Meek Mill hit her

[Hook - Sam Hook:]
I met her, f*cked her, fell in love with her
Left but came back, still in love with her
She is married to the Game

[Verse 2 - French Montana:]
Married to the Game nigga
Got them Birds, Larry in this motherf*cker
And you know we legendary in this motherf*cker
Doors suicide, Hail Mary in this motherf*cker
Montana, ask a motherf*cker
Show you why I live you need a dictionary ass motherf*cker
Yeah, niggas hating on this motherf*cker
Got the glove on, Gary in this motherf*cker
Delonte West, motherf*cker
F*ckin' with Game in the west, like a motherf*cker
Even though shorty crazy, might deal with her
Might like Drake, Game, Meek hit her, Montana

[Hook - Sam Hook]

[Verse 3 - DUBB:]
LA on my back, I'm tired of carryin' this motherf*cker
Niggas chasin' racks, Tom & Jerry in this motherf*cker
Long nose revolver, Dirty Harry in this motherf*cker
Way a nigga drew, you'd think Carey this motherf*cker
Game and French killed it but I'm buryin' this motherf*cker
First off the label, January in this motherf*cker, nigga
You get Shmurda'd in this motherf*cker
At this park, get killed over a burger in this motherf*cker
Get away car, a nigga swervin' in this motherf*cker
Mom's kicked me out, a nigga servin' in this motherf*cker
Beard and a chopper, need a turban in this motherf*cker
Put you on Iceman, George Gervin in this motherf*cker
Out of Cognac, I'm sippin' Bourban in this motherf*cker
Enemies strippin' in black Surburbans in this motherf*cker
Power steerin' gone, how I'm turnin in this motherf*cker?
Intercepting hoes, Richard Sherman in this motherf*cker

[Hook]

[Outro]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




The Purge

[Stacy Barthe:]
We are dying, we are dying
Are we gonna die? Are we gonna die?
We are dying

Light a blunt, throw on Nas, collect my thoughts
Blow the candles out as I contemplate in the dark
Dumpin' ashes on the f*ckin' Time magazine
Tryna burn a hole between Israel and Palestine
All this world news, all these dead bodies
All these kids dying, the talk of illuminati
As I'm murderin' ink, I get a call from Irv Gotti
Say "Keep spittin' cause when you do it's like a 12-gauge shotty
Got machetes and them cannons loaded up
Got them Xany's and that lean in my cup
These politician's can come up missin', I'm on a mission
You hear them gun shots, now mother f*ckers listenin'
Feel that you can take their life cause they ain't got a pot to piss in
Raise the Christian, kill you for these kids as victims
F*ck the system
You give a kid 30 cent and think you sponsor somethin'?
I feed a village by myself nigga Compton comin'
Purge

[Hook - Stacy Barthe (Game):]
We are dying, we are dying
(Sometimes I wanna purge)
We are dying
(Sometimes I wanna purge)
We are dying, some times I gotta purge
(Sometimes I wanna)
We're living on a purge
(Sometimes I wanna)

What if we ran through Beverley Hills, got 70 kills
Ridin' down Rodeo in the Chevy with pills
And pop one, load 12 slugs in the eagle
And shot one, Donald Sterling hopped in his Benz
I got one, beam on the back of his dome
Palm sweaty on the back of the chrome
That's my adrenaline
So we purge Sandusky, purge Zimmerman
Purge every mother f*cker rapin' women in
Purge niggas killin' kids, back to back in two vans
Me and my mercenaries, middle of South Sudan
Carryin' babies bodies, long as I got two hands
Long as I got two feet, millions and my crew deep
We purge for the families, they deaths ain't in vein now
Crash my ass, niggas know who shot that plane down
298 innocent lives severed
Flyin' on Aaliyah's wings all the way to heaven
And so we Purge

[Hook]

Imagine going to the stores without cops harrasing
Imagine Mike Brown walkin', them same cops just passed 'em
I'm smokin' hash, and let me ash it before I talk in past tense
I hope his mama tears is like acid to your f*ckin badges
2 shots in his brain, 4 in his fashion
Thinkin' 'bout his casket in this Phantom, swear I almost crashed it
That's why I'm headed to Ferguson with this German luger
Cause I'm probably more like Nelson Mandela than Martin Luther
More like Ice T than Ice Cube, I'm a cop killer
Murder all the cops, then the cops will probably stop killin'
On my knees prayin', wish my nigga Pac was livin'
But he fell victim to the Rampart Division, purge
Cops killed Biggie, cops beat up Rodney King
We tore up the city nigga, purge
Or just stand there like J. Cole and shoot at cops in the same spot till the case closed, purge

[Hook]

This song is dedicated, to my engineer Jus' wife, Carey Jean who passed away June 28th at 1.45 pm to stomach cancer, 2 days before his son Harlem's 11th birthday. Crazy how he mournin' his wife's death and I'm celebrating my son's life. I'll never understand death, shit. Sometimes it's a struggle to understand life, shit crazy. I'll never understand. Can't stop fightin' to survive though, but what we fightin' for when we eventually all die though, purge. Eventually we all victims of the purge. Us killers, what's keepin' us alive. It's a question nobody got the answer to. So PURGE!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: COSMO HICKOX, STACY BARTHE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Trouble On My Mind

[Hook - Jake&Papa:]
Killers hanging outside the windows, aye
Oh my, oh my, I got trouble on my mind
I got trouble on my mind
I know my enemies run when that pistol shake
Nah, nah, nah, nah, I got trouble on my mind, trouble

[Verse 1 - DUBB:]
It's a stolen G ride whenever we ride
It's war where we reside so I gots to keep my
Pistol close, even cops killing folks
Give their ass the whole magazine, f*ck a centerfold
Sixteen with it, ho, one in the chamber
Mask on my face so I remain a stranger
Death round the corner run inside when we pull up
Learn the negotiations, how you talking to a bulldog?
Blap, blap, blap - what you hear when them shots go off
Devil on my shoulders told me squeeze my Glocks on y'all
Only the angel that I seen was the logo on the fitted
I'm a seven black nigga, all my enemies'll get it
Bloody rag wrapped around my motherf*cking tech
Snoop "Murder Was The Case" what was playing in the deck
How else could I live my life
When yesterday's promise turn to present day's lies?
With the

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - DUBB:]
Yeah, f*ck shooting brothers for the color of their rag
I'm shooting at the niggas with the badge
Catch you walking out the station, that's your ass
Nigga, that's for Mike Brown, pussy, that's for Eric Garner
Pig, that's for Sean Bell, die from these nine shells
Go against the SWAT team, meet us at the swap meet
Bloods and Crips together, peace treaty like it's '93
They the real enemies, they the ones that killing me
Killing you, they killing us, judges don't do shit for us
Cops kill a nigga, bet they'll never get a sentence huh
Get promoted right after getting off suspension
What the f*ck is this world coming to?
Unarmed black kids, they putting guns at you
That's been happening for years so that's nothing new
Got me sick to my stomach, f*ck a stomach flu
Tell captain or the police that we coming through
With troops that ain't scared to die and they love to shoot
Some out the roof, it sunk

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Cellphone

[Verse 1 - Game:]
I remember days on Crenshaw, take a nigga Beamer
Hit the hood, take his rims off
Then hit that block, let him hear that Pac
That shit don't stop
Soo woo, new coupe, through the west side
New Benz, top down, new rims, new bitch throwin' up P's, whoo whoop

[Hook 1 - Game:]
Compton niggas ain't never gon' be the same
It's in my blood, you see my veins
You see my tats, you feel my pain
You in my hood? You from a gang
You got 2 seconds to answer where you from, or you gon' see your brains
Now that you slumped I see your change

[Verse 2 - Game:]
Nigga we got canals, shelves, niggas that tried, niggas that died
Niggas that fell well, off in their jail cell
Shit, we got niggas with full clips
That dip through you set and disappear like "Hell Rell"
No bail like the peace price
Get caught up in the middle of the street at the light, you f*ckin' bean pie
Middle of your forehead nigga, that's where your beam lie
(You be ok) Cause I done seen God

[Hook 2 - Game:]
Niggas sellin' crack, Dre sellin' headphones
2Pac in heaven, bumpin' Biggie "Dead Wrong"
Cherry red Impala, Bible had [?]
I just killed a nigga on my cellphone
Puff sellin' vodka, weed got my head gone
G-Man in heaven, name on that headstone
LJ in prison, and my nigga Legs gone
I just killed a nigga on my cellphone
Stop that

[Verse 3 - DUBB:]
Playin' chronic, blazin' chronic with the windows tinted
Cause those that don't cut the checks, the ones in yo' business
Rappers sendin' death threats but still ain't sent no killers
You take a stretch [?] squeeze myself, can't depend on niggas
Shit on niggas check the urinal and you'll see
That I be droppin' jewels and you should take 'em like a jewel thief
Wolves teeth is what I use to eat my f*ckin' pray up with
Used to make the yayo flip now Game told me to lay your hits
Teamed up, toured the US just to let the name ring
Goin' home to f*ck shit up, I did the King James thing
Steak and lobster with the gentleman, sit with a gangster posture
Blowin' all these bands fans, screamin' like it's Frank Sinatra
Made it out the South Bay village homies hate I prosper
But I don't owe you niggas shit, I'm supposed to thank my mama
Only chase for commas, got 'em in now raise the Llama
Hotter than a blazin' comet, f*ckin' south central moth

[Hook 2]

The f*ck?
Oh shit
[?]
What?
This mother f*cker's recording down him sucking a warm dick nigga
You bullshit
Nigga bring your mother f*ckin phone, I gotta get this shit on the gram nigga, gotta get my followers up,
I'm gonna blow the internet up with this mother f*cker
That bitch on WorldStar nigga
Damn
Push the door open nigga, watch out
Oh the nigga bustin' on [?]
Nasty bitch
Bitch get the f*ck out of my house bitch
Nasty bitch
The dead nigga, the mother f*cker wolf game head, bitch I dodn't even know Wolves could cum my nigga
Lowkey
Shawty got the best head ever
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Best Head Ever

[Intro - Tyga:]
Shorty got the best head ever (got damn, for you, got damn)
Shorty got the best head ever
And I can tell that you on your way to the top
Shorty got the best head ever
I'm f*cking with you, I'm f*cking with you

[Verse 1 - Tyga:]
Ain't nothing to a man, scale on a digit
When I do it gotta do it way different
No shit like 1-9 trippin'
Never had a cab in my city
Bitches all in my air, you f*cking with me
Cause ain't shit realer
Crazy on my line, run the game like Pepe
Young nigga gotta get it
She know she can get it
But I be f*cking with her cold, want a slick thim A1
Get my young day gone, shots of that Patron
Henny had me all gone, tell them bitches come get some
It ain't fun if the homies can't get none
Tell her relax and pour more up and don't throw up
Or ride dolo and get no dough, you know what
Bro, I got a lot of dough and I can make you my money ho

[Hook - Tyga:]
Shorty got the best head ever
And I can tell that you on your way to the top
Shorty got the best head ever
You know I'm f*cking with you
I let you know I'm f*cking with you
Shorty got the best head ever
And you just wanna play, make your way to the top
Shorty got the best head ever
I let you know I'm f*cking with you, I'm f*cking with you

[Verse 2 - Game:]
I got a bitch named Superhead, she give super head
Just moved in the building, even gave the super head
I got big guns, that's bitch super legs
So play Superman and we gon' play moving chairs
Off with your head, nigga, you don't really want it
Blood Money, Last Kings, that bullshit we on it
That long bread we got it, that Rolls Royce we in it
The bitches we got bad so no cars get tinted
No cars get rented, got the Masi' all Schmurda'd out
La Familia, the clique that you heard about
20 bottles, nigga, couple million follow, nigga
Red rag, gold chain, bet your girl swallow, nigga
Ciroc to the head, she gon murder the whole case
Pass her the Hookah cause he gon' puff like the old Mase
Make a nigga wanna empty out the whole safe
Nutting on her whole face, swear to God

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Eric Billinger:]
I don't know what you call that
When you make my toes curl and my eyes roll back
Keep doing it to me, just keep doing it to me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, baby girl, tell your nigga fall back
You already on your knees so I let you crawl back
After giving to me
He ain't gotta know you giving it to me
So when you leave her stop at the 7/11, get some Listerine strips
Sucking the jewels, I'mma crown you on your queen shit
Killing it, baby
Make a nigga wanting to spilling it, baby
Yeah, yeah, oh, she got the best head ever
Shorty got the best head ever, best head ever

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.




Or Nah

Don't fight the feelin', try, don't fight the feelin'

Say, my life is like a movie, nigga, f*ckin' every day
F*ckin' every day, nigga, f*ckin' every day
Say, my life is like a movie, nigga, f*ckin' every day
Missionary, doggy style, nigga, f*ckin' every way

I'm not the nigga you thought that
That trickin', we off that, I hit that, no call back
She ratchet, I like it, I hold it, she bite it
She lick it and suck it, I f*ck it, he wife it
No feelings for a ho that ain't my main thing
My niggas on the same thing, all my niggas gang bang
Bitches do choke, this is my boo
Two C's on that bag but she throw a Piru
And we off that Cîroc, she don't mind it I do
Her girlfriend a thot, tell her hop in my coupé
Tell her hop in my bed, tell her hop off my roof
My baby-mama trippin' and that bitch can shoot

You gon' let me hit or nah?
"Can I get the dick or nah?"
You gon' let me watch you strip or nah?
"Can a bitch get a fit or nah?"

Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Or nah, so let me hit it
Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Aw, girl, so let me hit it

If he let a nigga come through
I'm give it to you better than you ever had it
Girl, I promise, I'm a be the only thing you want to do
Makin' you forgot about your niggas automatic
You already know
I can f*ck you better, can we live together?

Bitch a problem, bitch, you better follow me
I give you this dick, you hit the lottery
I know all the stars, astrology
Last deposit, f*cked up the whole economy
Get that, spent twenty-ten, bitch-nigga
Kush piffany, every white string infinite
You different, last night, niggas picturin'
Seven times, had a black chick tryin' white shit
Fatal Lines, I'm the future, real beef, I'll shoot you
Walk-walk, no talk-talk, no sub and no woofers
It's on, tell by my tone
Real nigga call, better answer your phone

You gon' let me hit or nah?
"Can I get the dick or nah?"
You gon' let me watch you strip or nah?
"Can a bitch get a fit or nah?"

Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Or nah, so let me hit it
Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Aw, girl, so let me hit it

You gon' be a nigga's bitch or nah?
You gon' let a nigga hit or nah?
What you sayin', know you're with it so why you playin'?
Bitch, you better f*ck a rich nigga while you can
I be on one, two C's for the city
I'm on, I got Crip and Blood niggas with me
Wait up, just tell me you with it or let me get it
Baby, you can skip the bullshit and let me hit it
Three pills down, got me rollin' like (?)
Keep playin' games but you know that you a flip
Hold up, bitch, quit playin' and give it up
You gon' let a nigga hit or what, what's up?

You gon' let me hit or nah?
"Can I get the dick or nah?"
You gon' let me watch you strip or nah?
"Can a bitch get a fit or nah?"

Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Or nah, so let me hit it
Girl, once you get it, you got it, foreva
Aw, girl, so let me hit it

Don't fight the feelin', you know a nigga tryin' to f*ck
I like that bitch, yeah, baby, your pussy wet?
Take them panties off, don't fight it
Let a nigga hit that shit, you like to f*ck
All these bitches love f*ckin'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Eric Bellinger, Jason Martin, Jayceon Taylor, Todd Shaw
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Take That

[Verse 1 - Yo Gotti:]
F*ck buyin' jewelry, buyin' ammo
Teflon, bulletproof the Lambo
Hate rats, got my niggas in the fed
Got money in the bank and money on my head
Really? Niggas sound silly
Wanna talk money, yeah, count it, ten milli
Free my nigga Meek Milly, bad bitch out of Philly
Sold that white girl so I guess I sold Iggy
Who you think I give a f*ck about, an enemy?
Think I give a f*ck about the industry?
Better Google me
Boy, I really made a million out the f*ckin' streets
Boy, I had a white car back in '04
Back in runnin' wood days and ride low
When bein' a street nigga really meant something
Now niggas sell his soul for a follow
If you wanna talk streets, what it mean to you, nigga?
Take pictures with guns so that make you a killer
Nah, LA Reid gave me that check today
[?] empower the hittas
I'm Crenshaw at Fatburger, f*ckin' with Nipsey
And I bet you I'm rockin' my chains
Or I'm in the Watts with Jay Rock or slidin' through Compton with Game
Cause real niggas livin' the same

[Verse 2 - 2 Chainz:]
My auntie did 20 years, my pop did like 16
My partner did a decade so what the f*ck you really mean?
Really, ho, Billie Jean jackets in my video
Causin' all this racket, no tennis court
Really made a million in a kitchen fork
Skrt, skrt, skrt, skrt, dinner fork
Often offended, I told that bitch to get out when she finished
Need me a bitch that gon' suck me and f*ck me
And freak me and pass me to all of her friends
That's what it is, verbal telekinesis
Korrupt mixed with Jesus, Big Meech mixed with Yeezus
Keep playin' them games and get shot from them bleachers
I still got my stripes when I'm not wearing Adidas
Got a fresh hairline from Peter
Got me a hockey mask, choppers, started talking fast
Give it to 'em direct just like Jeter
Niggas ain't killing shit, niggas they playing
They saying they killing shit
Got me an A and a K and a 220 trey
And a [?] hit might burn a little bit
I'm like, "Really, little bitches, say really"

[Hook - Soulja Boy:]
F*ck these niggas
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me
Niggas say they gon' kill me

[Verse 3 - T.I.:]
Brand new Benz with the top down
In my old neighborhood, all the cop 'round
I don't give a f*ck, motherf*cker, act up
Let him and the police hear how the Glock sound
Comin' with the bullshit, get shot down
Sucker free, no fly zone in my town
And there ain't no discussion
It's simple, you try me we gon' get to bustin'
I promise, my nigga, you want it, my nigga?
My young niggas ready, they goin' on guard
They act like they know ain't no God
We so official, for sure, no facade
Trap nigga shine like I glow in the dark
Still got my.44 in the door
I'm not finna play with you, homie get laid with you
Cement your feet, then it's off in the lake with you
Underestimate you, that mistake I couldn't make with you
I hit you with the K, myself and show you what the paper do
And can't nobody handle you the way I do
Give your boy a K or two, kill you in a day or two
And no disrespect, boy, you violate me, we gon' handle that
Blow your ass off the map
And you still reachin' your hand out for no dap
My demonstration in exchange for your hatin'
I put this flame all in your face, boy you fakin'
We come through in Mercedes and shoot you
You'd think Call of Duty would make it
Bacon, I get my moolah off top
He don't give me my moolah, off top
Give a damn what the naysayers say
And we waitin' a day in the A with the K and I'm gone

[Hook]

[Verse 4 - Game:]
Niggas ain't gon' kill shit
I'm ridin' 'round, 7 pounds, nigga, Will Smith
It's a whole heck of y'all and a whole deck of cards
This shit right here you can't deal with
Two ice cubes and some cognac
Spent some time in twin towers, I ain't goin' back
Spent my commissary on some M&M's thinkin' I was Eminem
Runnin' Aftermath in all black
I'll slaughter your house with 5 9's
Leave all of you niggas with crooked eyes
Got the Louisville Slugger, Big Papi Ortiz
Knockin' every button off your buttoned up sleeves
Please that's Jeezy the Snowman
Comin' straight to your window like Bruh Man
Said I ain't killin' your dog but stealin' my hog conscience
Puttin' bullets in your doberman, don't f*ck with Compton
Don't you f*ck with Kendrick, don't f*ck with Problem
Don't f*ck with YG, I'm Mr. Miyagi, Daniel San, I handle them
My handle's dumb, I had no gun
F*ck around, stomp you out in these Durant's or somethin'
I bear arms like Durantula
This rocket launcher'll blow your whole f*ckin' mansion up
And everybody gotta die, put them candles up
How you get caught up in the web with tarantulas?
And for you f*ckin' dumb niggas, let me slow it down
I can screw you like Pimp and Big Moe around
And when a nigga say "Timber", you don't need Ricky Rubio
To let a nigga know it's goin' down
F*ck you clowns, yeah I put the word on you niggas
Go A$AP Ferg on you niggas
Been all through New York with Diddy
My verse'll Schmurda you niggas
And that's not a shot at T.I.P. or a shot at Gotti
Take shots of Ciroc in a black Bugatti
Got a shotty in a backpack, napsack
Shawty got a black MAC 11, I will catch that body
Like Nasir and Hov when I'm 40 years old
I will still be the pilot that light up the stove
And be cookin' that crack 'til the Doctor come back
And tell niggas that Detox come out this October
Like Ol' Dirty Bastard, I'm finally sober
And verses like this'll get me a new Rover
Get you a new home and it's in a casket
Your funeral boring, I'm glad that it's over
Soulja!

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Food For My Stomach

[Hook - DUBB:]
Beast on the loose and my stomach is rumblin'
These niggas out here is food for my stomach
Get the f*ck out the way when the lions is comin'
The elephant's stompin', gorillas is jumpin'
The snakes full of venom, the wolves out and huntin'
In this concrete jungle, in this concrete jungle, woo
In this concrete jungle, in this concrete jungle, woo

[Verse 1 - DUBB:]
I sink in my teeth cause these niggas is sweet
Predator to the prey, you should pray for the weak
Spray out Caprices, drive by with the reaper
I hang out the window like I'm an AC
Bodies turn cold after losing your pulse
Turn that dude to a ghost like the homie SP
Yeah, from the LAX with these bars I keep locked
Ain't a prison, I'm free, I can rap in my sleep
Dude on the post with rocks using shots
They come back to your ass like an offensive rebound
Funeral home on the speed dial
When God call your number
Man, trust me, there won't be no re-dial
We out here every day, they acting senile
Year of the wolf, niggas 'bout to hear me out
This beat I'mma wreck while these gorillas beat on their chest
West swing, I'm knocking their trees down
So go in your temple
These niggas is dinner from January all the way to December
Shouldn't have played with my killers

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - Skeme:]
Real trill nigga with a hairpin trigger
I'm surrounded by the killers, I just got it like that
Rappers always talking "you ain't 'bout it like that"
I went out the hood to get it then I brought it right back
Blood money rider, keep the chopper right beside 'em
F&N fully loaded, that's for any nigga want it
This sound like I got the shit perfected don't it?
Grab a cartrige, get to sparkin a targetin like all of my opponents
Raise these haters up off of me
Talk some cash when you talk to me
I ain't got no love for you if you ain't getting guwop with me
All my niggas from day one who I'm gon take to the top with me
And this shotty on me, got that boy walkin so awkwardly
I was raised in the wild with them lions and tigers
Nothing but paper excite us, bitch we were born be fighters
And I'm from BME, the G in me won't let me back down
Underground king without a crown, how I sound?

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JAYCEON TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC




Hit Em Hard

[Verse 1 - Game:]
I got a black mac and a six pack
I don't work out, I don't chit chat
My bitch bad, I get racks
That Rolls Royce, come gift-wrapped
Them birds still come shrink-wrapped
I'm not strapped, don't think that
I'm low key with that click clack
That rat a tat tat tat tat
Throw the burner and I'm runnin' home
Niggas stop being loyal when the money gone
Still walk in this bitch, I'm a hundred strong
One chain on my neck, feel like I got a hundred on
Look at my flow on this bitch
Platinum and gold on my wrist
Money, the accountant be countin' it
That's why I'm throwin' this shit
I'm in BK with that SK
Same clothes since yesterday
With that Biggie Smalls on replay
And I ain't wearing no vest today
I do the Shmoney dance with this mac
You better do it too or get Shmurda'd
I be grilling that beef, I ain't talkin' no burgers
I finna be walkin' like I'm a New Yorker
I let off the K and then I hope in the Uber
It's never a question that I am the shooter
I empty the clip and lay you in a pool of
Blood, see how he got hit with the Ruger?
Blood, bandana that's how we be movin'
Blood, swooping from Compton to Brooklyn
And this ain't the Barclays but niggas be shootin'

[Hook - Bobby Shmurda x2:]
Running niggas down back and forth
I'm like pass the torch
Blast it off
Niggas making bets so who gonna blast him off
First to score
We gon' hit 'em hard
We gon' hit 'em all
First to score
We gon' hit 'em all
We gon' hit 'em hard

[Verse 2 - Freddie Gibbs:]
Running cocaina back and forth
Copped the bag of salt
E S to the G N
I'm the boss dropped the package off
Coming for the murder, masks is off
Bitch you took a loss
F*ck the DEA we shook 'em off
Bitch we shook 'em off
Shook and twist the jars
And dope on my mommas stove top
By the time she came back from church boy
I bet you I had an O stocked
In the middle of the muhf*ckin' day, no more yayo, boy I done sold out
Nigga pull up in a mothaf*ckin' foreign on forgies that'll bring them hoes out
Like yeah nigga, niggas keep beggin', I pull out a pump in this bitch like I'm blizzard
Yeah, empty your pockets, we robbin', these bitches got all of us trippin'
Nigga, it's better to ask for forgiveness than ask for permission
You catchin' the hollow, I'm catchin'you slippin', I did it alone, only God as my witness
My nigga got off cause we tied up the witness, and made sure the nigga couldn't show up in court
You know the business, them niggas find out that you snitchin', them niggas gon' be at your throat
Everyday Halloween niggas will go trick or treatin', with two tweny-three at your door
Flippin' a check off this rappin', go back to the trap and put that in the weed and the blow like

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3 - Skeme:]
I just caught a body like a week ago
These hatin' niggas want attention, I don't see 'em though
You talk that gangsta shit, but I just can't believe it bro
We pull up with them shots, knockin' out that European [?]
S to the K to the E-M-E, callin' here EMT after I empted this clip
I sold my dope right on CMT, I'm at the ING, know I'm as weird as it gets
Chuck Taylor told me it's f*ck haters, so I say f*ck 'em and bury these niggas in pits
Rolley on wrist, no toc or no tic, your girl on my dick, man come get your bitch
Niggas think this a rap now, I might back down and come try your luck
Riders with me be wired up, they ridin' with me till the tyres bust
Haters talkin', but they better cool it, before that nigga Crooked get fired up
Lay you out like my Balmains, you gotta play 'em straight, he get ironed up
Drinkin' lean till I'm high enough, I don't give a f*ck about [?] nigga
I ain't squashin' shit, I won't call it off, I just handle mine like a man nigga
I'm on frontline with these bands nigga
Need a chair, I can't stand niggas
We do walk-by's and hop outs
Got slidin' doors on that van nigga

[Hook x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bobby Shmurda, Fredrick Tipton, Jayceon Taylor, Lonnie Kimble
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Black On Black

[Intro - Jeezy:]
'Sup, nigga, huh?
You know what this shit is?
Stay down and come up (Damn right)
Street niggas is street niggas alike
It ain't even one way, nigga (Two niggas most)
Stay down and see you come up, nigga, uh
Four songs, nigga (Blood Money, let's go)

[Hook - Jeezy:]
Everythin' wrong, this can't be right
Man, it's so much, this can't be life (Yeah)
Shit get real, man, you can't hold back
(Stay on back, nigga, you gotta do what you gotta do)
If he came back in that black on black
I still do it for them niggas with them bricks on bricks
I still do it for them niggas with them nicks on nicks
Let me tell you how them real nigga supposed to bounce back
See I never came back in that black on black

[Verse 1 - Game:]
Nigga come through for a nine and a half
I'm a tell him ain't nothin' left
Nigga need an eight, tell him everythin' straight
All they gotta do it wait, tell a nigga I'm a chef
How you think a nigga went and got that race?
Could of went to jail but I bought that case
Lawyer came through, told him it's about time
Jim Carrey to the Rollie, I just switch that switch
Put ten karats on my daughter ear, f*ck it
She deserved every rock I done sold out in public
Do anythin' for my Destiny's Child
She a Beyoncé, never be LeToya Luckett
Black on black, checkerboard Louis luggage
On a PJ feelin' like Warren Buffett
With the Minnesota Twins, ain't no Kirby Puckett
Let the shade fear clouds, tell Aaliyah that I love her
Back and forth in a Lear
My grandmother say I never see her
She want me come home on Thanksgivin'
Put on some black on black like here
Black on black to my dear
Black on black in my ear
Black Maserati that I gave to my mama
Right hand to the father, she can't even find the gears

[Hook]

[Verse 2 - Jeezy:]
Hold up, hold up, hold up
Shit get real, we don't fold up
This is what I told myself in my grandma's kitchen
At the table, nigga, choppin' my blow up
Said she want to sell more like my father
Same time, had me for a couple dollars
Yeah, I'm 'bout to pull an all nighter
And now I'm 'bout to kill these niggas
So you might not see me 'til tomorrow'
Yeah, like that, then my palms start itchin'
Suede hit the block, then my bong gone missin'
See, I'm 'bout to take me a trip to the other side of town
And I'm goin' there to buy me a chicken
Yeah, I got a nigga in the spot with a nine right now
So, I'm goin' there to sell him a pigeon
My pastor told me that the money is the root of all evil
I said if it is, then I lose my religion

[Bridge - Jeezy:]
If I had to be precise, tell you two things about life
Niggas win everyday, niggas fail every night
I say, "Now, Oprah got a billion dollars
And you know what near her"
Type of shit I tell myself while starin' in the mirror

[Hook]

[Verse 3 - Kevin Gates:]
Mayonnaise jaw, straight drop, no whippin'
Electric's off, everything's spoilin' in the fridge
I ain't bathed in a week, house smellin' like pickles
Street showin' no business, still gettin' to the business
Safety pin the zip, break it down, sell nickels
Had to ball him out of jail, blew the money on the bail
Went flat, bounced back from a 30-cent flipper
I don't even know a nigga livin' how I'm livin'
I don't even know how many times I've been to prison
Shit get gangsta, we call Hot Beezle
Bought two things at the third, I wanna appease you
Two-fifty-two on the scale, that's a nina
Eighteen zaps, five hundred-four grams
Add an extra gram when you weigh it with the bag
Real trap talk, keep it real, don't believe you
When you get out of line, swear to God, I'm a leave you
Dicks cut the water 'fore they kick a nigga door
Tried to flush it down the toilet but the dope just float
Tear gas from the cannon
Everybody scramblin', but I ain't never panic
Double homicide, broad day, that's my jacket
Tried to bird feed, cut throat on my jacket
And I take change, I'm a serve when they askin'
Come from out of town, I'm a taste, no relaxin'

[Hook]

[Outro:]
It's okay, Daddy, I'm not scared
I know, baby, the rest of the world is
You ready to go home?
Yes, Daddy
Let's go
Okay
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Jay Jenkins, Jayceon Taylor, Kevin Gilyard
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Mad Flows

Uh, yeah, it's that Westside shit
It's for the '99 and the 2000s, nigga
I ain't flyin' with none of you niggas
The new Cash Money
The gang that don't pay, biatch
Right

[Hook:]
I got mad flows, mad flows
The shit that got me mad whores
I get mad more, nigga
I got mad flows, mad flows
The shit that got me mad dough
I get mad more, motherf*cker

Black Benzes, windows tinted, no, my shit ain't rented
Inglewood [?] f*ck a nigga and his [?]
Hot boy, nigga, make a million while I'm chillin'
I could bet a pretty penny you ain't livin' what you spittin'
Go up where the thugs burnin', see the cash when I'm grinnin'
Montana shit, Medusa head stitched in my linen
Street nigga, no account, your account in my denim
Unless you blind, bitch, it ain't hard to see a nigga winnin'
If I'm talkin' to that ho, then tell that bitch to pay attention
Big business, I use dollar signs to punctuate a sentence
F*ck the law, do it raw, skip the trial and drop the witness
Bein' broke been a joke, ain't shit funny 'bout my digits?

[Hook]

Strap on, get clapped on, nigga, that just be the facts
They say "Me, I don't rap though", got [?]
Got my chopper on, my stack of Os
Then came back with the sack
Man, my Roley, that's goldie, my wrist nicknamed "The Mack"
See, your niggas ho-niggas and that shit they be [?]
Man, my niggas be killers, give a f*ck about rap and beats
See, my bitches got bitches, my pimpin' game is sweet
They have you f*ck 'em, then duck 'em
Man, get right back in the streets
Bitch, I've been a threat, ghetto intellect, AK and a TEC
Nigga flex, labels sendin' checks, still I'm in a set
Nigga rich, use this Internet, we ain't feel it
Play with me, I'm a play for keeps, all my niggas strapped

[Hook]

This my world now, nigga, you just livin' in it
Cause I got [?] on my face, made my vision different
By any means necessary, no, your nigga get it
He said he got it like we got it, no, you f*ckin' didn't
Say, this my world now, nigga, you just livin' in it
You get some money, nigga, can I make your vision different?
By any means necessary, no, your nigga get it
He said he got it like we got it, no, you f*ckin' didn't

[Hook x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Bloody Moon

Never been so hurt
There was no one to care
Since my very first breath on Earth
There was no one ever there

My father left me when I was 7, at a home
Left me but took his chrome, I looked up and blood was gone
Man, f*ck it, guess in the world I'm all alone
My mother was too naive so when he left she followed along
And while you're listenin' to this song, askin' yourself why
It's really none of your business but I was there, I bear witness
To a grow f*ckin' man with a bid
Unzipped his pants and I can't tell you what a pig
Me and my sister had different fathers, but I cared, and I loved her
And I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't scared, when he rubbed her
Tip of his penis on her, she was only 11
How could you ever get a boner?
Even thinkin' about it make me hot as a sauna
Make me wanna pop him like the top on Coronas
But I was scared, ran back to my room, prayed to God
That I was dreamin', can't believe I'm this nigga's semen
Livin' with demons and it'd been that way

Never been so hurt
There was no one to care
(Don't give a f*ck about me)
Since my very first breath on Earth
There was no one ever there
(Don't give a f*ck about me)

These niggas can't f*ck with this shit
I'll make you slit your wrist
This, sort of like the exodus
It's, you see it
The moon bleedin', it's a bloody moon
You see it
It's a bloody moon
You see it
It's a bloody moon
The moon bleedin', it's a bloody moon

Never been so hurt
There was no one to care
(Don't give a f*ck about me)
Since my very first breath on Earth
There was no one ever there
(Don't give a f*ck about me)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DOMINICK J. LAMB, JAYCEON TERRELL TAYLOR
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Back to: The Game


Blood Moon: Year of the Wolf is the second compilation album by American rapper the Game. It was released on October 14, 2014, by Blood Money Entertainment and eOne Music.

The album was supported by two singles: "Bigger Than Me" and "Or Nah". Upon its release, Blood Moon: Year of the Wolf received generally mixed reviews from music critics. The album debuted at number 7 on the Billboard 200, selling 33,000 copies in its first week of release.
Performed By: The Game
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 60:05
Released: October 14th, 2014
Year: 2014

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