Pre-Game

[Sauce Money] I lay my gun fine, ideas be as bright as the sunshine Shook the rap game with just one line When me and my niggas combine, all day, you know what? Sometimes, I run with mad niggas who done time Hit you with eight, from one nine, now you showin the vein My shells is like information, go in your brain Holdin my slug, before you squeeze em show em the love Burn your fingertips so throw em a glove, understand me Before my album drop, cop the Grammy, uncanny Bought my first Role' from Manny Dirty burners my crew never hand me, nigga we family You not, get shot, get caught slippin like Dexter Manley With at least ten lead, spray right, paint your skin red Damn we, all the shit you can't be We big time, you small time, real small like how an ant be Marcy, bust a shot for Metcalf, Tilo and Danny Peace to the Bureils, Cut Wop and Stanley Boom Moet and bow, my whole set is wild Past threats, frontin flash singles and that's bent Fuck a bitch, you know the drill Cut a check or suck a dick [Jay-Z] Jigga, what the fuck? As a youth explosively, clappin off the roof Shootin guard like Kobe, raised up slay smears and bo'e Back then, Gil was my co-d, Spanish Jose Showed me how to get the money niggas owed me Fast forward, no kids, six cars and three Role's Two cribs, trips to Cuba, sippin on Ooba Got rap in a stupor, first to clap your group up From the Range with the ski rack, or six with the roof up Shit, I light the motherfuckin soundproof booth up New shit, y'all say the same shit like you're looped up Your rap's all lazy, Jigga the Black Scorcese What your album lack is more Jay-Z Code name: Jay-hovah, all praise me Y'all don't paint pictures, y'all all trace me You've yet to see the day when my squad be done I represent that shit nigga, Marcy son, what? [Sauce Money] I grab my dick in front of your bitch, screaming "Fuck your spot" Heat miser, anything I ever touch was hot Sauce watching all ya wildcats flop, sound greasy One song on your whole CD, making my job easy Figured as much though, got your hustle swinging Cop a muzzle, then y'all got the nerve to drop a double? Everybody ain't big nigga, everybody can't flow like Jigg Nigga Bitch niggas listen: No sorrow tomorrow if you swallow hollow-points Like a dread in the weed spot, I'mma move some joints I ain't playing, these BK slugs spraying Mute niggas could tell you how nice I am, it goes without saying Malicious, rap flow vicious, stack dough Bitches suckin' dicks, they fat boy delicious Pretentious niggas get it in slow-mo Kodak couldn't picture that, so X-ray machines taking your team photo Niggas switching like a homo, shit on your team Fuck how they feel, get all that CREAM Here comes the drama, here's the drummer, they call your number And now your fun-filled summer filled with bounty hunters If a bitch fuck you for free, cats will kill you for the same fee Think niggas give a fuck what your name be? Or your raw crew? Kid you're all saw-through Mad cause you ain't blow yet, never fret nigga your bitch blew for you Get on some prince shit like, "I truly adore you" Never, crab cat, fuck you, have that Sauce mother F-U tricks all in the mix 300 large on my flat up in the sticks Nothing but a lot of leg room, my son and my bitch Getting fatter of salmon, croquets and grits Peace to all my niggas in Marcy, Viya Schmidt and Bits [?] L-channel henny and crime, nigga which? One of y'all in the mirror looking facing them 8's One in your helmet, might induce a case of the shakes B-scott, what the deal son? Reno where the dro at? Sauce Money You know that, nigga