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the game - 240 bars (spide joke) lyrics
[verse 1: the game]
here the break down
spider loc is a joke
n-gga sound like chunk off the goonies
ya life is a movie
you ain’t a factor you a actor fifty gave you a script
went from runnin with the bloods to a g-unit crip
what’s a g-unit crip? not a gang in la
bang on records but n-gga won’t bang in la
why the f-ck you wake me up. .. n-gga i’m tired
you a busta, so i’mma light your -ss on fire
n-gga want my spot so he runnin with buck
keep tryna play the game, and u ‘gon get f-cked
i heard diss after diss, lil n-gga you suck
like yo baby mama, in the third row of my truck
naw-vail ill whoop your -ss in your own hood
you so hard why didn’t u put out that song about suge
trapped in the closet, r. kelly -ss n-gga
get swiss cheesed up, ol’ deli -ss n-gga
t.boz in belly -ss n-gga
better ask around, i been the truth since makaveli p-ssed n-gga
and i ain’t wanna have to do this sh-t
i’d rather be at home listening to the cam’ron diss
dr. dre said it best ‘a b-tch is a b-tch’
you a mysp-ce gangsta n-gga suck my d-ck
your flow is budweiser, mines is crystale
put the f-ggot on ice he gon be there for a while
now watch me put my chest out like 10 og’s
i wore this g-unot shirt to show m.o.p
i’m gutter m-th- f-cka
tell you f-ck you to fifty face, and won’t st-st-stutter m-th-f-cka
and now that i put the kids to bed
i tell you a story about a spider caught in his web
marvel williams, a well known crip
not cause he put in work, but cause his brother a snitch
he belong in g-unit, i’mma tell you the truth
fifty, this n-gga brother tell more than you
so i’mma break it down like an ounce of glue
i met this n-gga spider at alliyah video shoot
true, true, he had on no blue
dmx start laughin he said ‘this n-gga think he better than you’
so i kicked a freestyle, and in the meanwhile
this n-gga soakin up game tryna copy my style
gave him a hundred bars, all he did was smile
and dmx named me the f-ckin problem child
now back to the future, you got a problem now
snoopin around my hood, get f-cked doggy style
i pull ya f-ggot -ss out them g-unit sneakers
and let ya soul burn in h-ll on the anniversery to ‘ether’
you g-unit crip, used to be a piru
your name marvel, all you need now is a spiderman suit
black wallstreet b-tch you can’t f-ck wit my crew
my flow blind baby, i’mma make you do what it do
lets take a ride n-gga i’mma make room in the coupe
put the shovel in the truck, throw you in there too
b-tch in the p-ssenger side, say she hear somebody screamin
turn the music up.. baby that’s comin from the speakers
she said i ain’t trippin i hear somebody screamin
i had to throw her off so i start singin
i know you don’t love me
you ain’t the same when 50 cent’s in town
i know you don’t love me
you always talkin’ bout how ma$e get down
i know you don’t love me
you scream and holla when spider loc’s around
got me f-cked up wit them g-unit crips
tryna run game on me you punk b-tch
get yo -ss in the trunk
prodigy know that i ain’t a punk
keep these rap n-ggas in check like a pair of ducks
who can flip like i do?
spit like nas too?
rock a yankee fitted, still throw up piru?
rock a dodger fitted in the middle of the bronx
i shine in any hood like paul wall fronts
n-gga my flow foolish sit back while i do this
watch me manuever threw cedar block, and end up in hoover
i spit like a ruger
you spit cr-p like a rookie dice shooter
snake eyes to the loser
n-gga i’m grand pooba
gave em somethin’ grand nubian
created g-unot, fifty tried to sue me and
say he kick me out the group n-gga i left
spider, you want my spot n-gga? clean up my mess
dirty -ss n-gga, fifty give him a check
and if you sign, n-gga put ya contract on the internet
i been bangin for 10 years, muhthaf-cka i been a vet
for 500 dollas he’ll claim any set
give him a 1000 dollars h-ll tat it on his hand… d-mn
that’s worse than me lyin sayin olivia was a man
ya xxl cover look like makin of the band
you mad, cause i got my own shoe
and my n-gga take shots for the game like mj do
some say its bullsh-t till i pull quick
till i empty a full clip
get on the h-rn, meet me in the bullpit
tony yayo you old -ss coward
you 36 and u spit your hottest verse on my album
now.. i ain’t sayin that you dope n-gga..
but you better than spider loc n-gga…
fifty saw the opportunity and thought he could use him
i know he don’t be listenin’ to that wack–ss music
you got the west on your back? you a lyin b-st-rd
you the reason n-ggas push mute when they play madden
what the h-ll made you think you could f-ck wit the game
when yo claim to fame was yukmouth’s chain
take my advice and lay low
heard you and your uncle yayo
got ran the f-ck outta san diego
i’ll give you 5 shots when the 38 blow
leave a hole in your chest.. the size of a bagel
we can do it when you say so
wait till the lakers on the road, shoot it out at the staples
open your chest, show the world what you made of
my d-ck hard i can’t wait till the day come
when i can put the infared on him
let billboard rest, don’t speak on my dead homie
all you new west coast n-ggas chill
the city is mine, eazy left it to me in his will
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