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j-black - game over lyrics
yo this that hot sh-t
“the games peoples play”
game over n-gga, it’s over now
“the games peoples play”
“the games peoples play”
[j-black]
it’s time for ya ballers to p-ss the rot
before i p-ss a shot, thru ya vocal box
i ain’t playin no more, lay on the floor
i’m the reason they delayin ya tour
what they payin ya for?
you ain’t hot, no way
you had a lot to say
before them hot shots from that glock got popped ya way
now ya standin there sailin, talkin bout that n-gga balance
seein more blood than us thugs on the island
i got you trapped like a puffy contract
and i ain’t recoup yet, ya sittin up? you bet
no where to go n-gga, where my dough n-gga?
with that flow, how you figga you gon’ blow n-gga
the chances are slim and none
you better lace up ya timbs and run
havin a gun in ya face ain’t fun
i’m about to leave mami with no son
f-ckin with j, you done chosed the wrong one
[jugga]
this whippa snapper, quote from the book of rap
pick a chapter, hit a track, and split it
smack a critic in the kisser
mack a hot and spicy chicken rapper
raise ya hand up to me, and she can stand up and be
d-mn, i’m smellin plead, who got the chocola-te
that brolic like a ?, prolly had me sloppy on the hot day
dodgin the street crime unit, why?
forty one shots got a sweat sound to it? ha?
plus your own, ethnic group wanna stick ya up
bust and hit ya up
put you in the back of that big red and white “come and get you” truck
bet you ain’t bet on this
ball till ya fall and got the ref settin this
[steele]
n-ggas need to watch what the f-ck is comin outta ya mouth
cuz the sh-t you talk about can get ya shot in ya mouth
i got soldiers from the south that run in ya house
mask on, boots on, gloves on, gats out, gash out
bullets flash out, you -ssed out
layed out, losin blood till ya p-ss out
if you the best, let’s get in the cage go all out
raw dog, strong arm war and death bouts
steele, i’mma show you what a soldiers about
you n-ggas gonna know who to bomb when i’m blowin you out
f-ck a record label, bucktown thuggin it out
in the streets, guzzlin stouts or f-ckin ya spouse
“the games people play”
[godfather]
i watch the beat slip under, over all strength comin numbers
2000 infamous thunder, that raw thru the streets cl!ck peep
yellin “m-o-b-b”
over doose rap get’s ya off ya feet
jetty jet, black 5-8, under the seat
blowin trees, ready for beef
you strapped with the world in my lap, ready to eat
the god qb, my life site of a nut, my pops same one
game over, daughter born 18th, 92 of october
it’s hard to stay sober
henny went in my throat, we gettin loan to rise thru a ace
turn on a beat, for my n-ggas in the keys
can’t we live, lost these, they comin all ways f-ck gee
i’d rather die first put my life on stake [peep that]
[p-dap]
i burn like a dutch with a lotta teeba
choke from a toke, catch a third degree fever
the best seller, hundred thousand dollar voice flamin off
acappella paid off, dudes on my days off
make sure the dough, i get it betta get it pr-nto
or i’m send them hooligans to get mine from ya doors
for the upmost, you had enough, f-ck if ya mad enough
bad enough, everything i touch ran to make bucks
cuz none of ya can stop me
fat heads get up in my pockets
dippin in the wide body rocket
throughout the metropolitan, 88 chasin me
road blocks up ahead, doin a buck 83
bust thru the barricade, made it to the studio safe
grab mics make it yell “wait, wait”
head phones on my mellon and yellin for jake
dealin with the case properly, my nonchalant way, talk to me
“the games people play”
“the games people play”
“the games people play”
“the games people play”
“the games people play”
“the games people play”
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