Heaven's Arms

[Intro] [Hook: Game] Part the Red Sea in red Louboutins, who the don? Walk inside the club with all this Gucci on, you’ve been warned Packing heat like two LeBrons And my crew is strong as Cali kush It keep you (higher than heaven’s arms) [Verse 1: Game] Gucci in my closet, pardon my head Pardon my French, but I’m on my Nas shit, off with your head Off with your bitch, she offered me head, I offered her dick Slid my black card at the reception, now we off in the Ritz I’m rolling this kush, she coughing and shit Freak bitch named Jada love the LOX, I got her talkin’ to Kiss Got my hands behind my head, now she all in the splits Dick must be good ‘cause now she in Boston with bricks Got a text on my iPhone, she caught with my shit Offered her ten, she took it ‘cause she’s far from a snitch Hold her mama and her daddy down, got a sister at Georgetown Paying her tuition so she ain’t gotta be strippin’ It’s money so I ain’t trippin’, this bullshit get printed Them banks get scoped out, black cars get rented My Gucci suit tailored, my fade get tapered You get sent to your maker, fuckin’ around with my paper, cuz I... [Hook] [Verse 2: Game] Hard bottom Ferragamos, IQ too much for mediocre convo I know a Farrakhan though, three-story condo IPod shuffling between Common, Jay Electronica and Bono Our motto, the last words of Paul Castellano Nothin’ but endless paper and bitches for niggas I know Smokin’ Cheeba, feeding divas McDonald’s All the way in Milano, ashin’ out Cohibas Fuckin’ in that blue Aventador, the nose like Gonzo Let a bitch get a breather, then she back hittin’ high notes Throwin’ Louis luggage at dealerships, fuck a car note 15’s in everything, beating like Harpo Rolling purple like Harpo, bitches by the car load They wanna see Prince, I’m pulling strings like Carlos Santana, now we in Magic, Atlanta Wipin’ Ciroc off my Loubi’s with my Gucci bandana, cuz I... [Hook] [Verse 3: Game] Kanye with Kim now, I’m happy for that nigga Disrespect him or his wifey, I'll slap you for that nigga Grew up listenin’ to Pac, now I’m rappin’ for that nigga My brother been dead 20 years, I’m trappin’ for that nigga God Flow like Pusha n‘em, rose Phantom pushin’ ‘em Splittin’ Louisville Sluggers open, puttin’ kush in ‘em Ain’t forgot about the Twin Towers, I blame Bush for them Obama can’t speak on it ‘cause the government’s shushin’ him But that’s my nigga though, still stackin’ figures So one day I’m top 5 and I can politic with Jigga though I was just trying to Blueprint myself behind Jigga, though And all them old disses, yo, bullshit, Thibodeau He be where the Summer be, I be where the Winter go Tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole I’m out here tryna win a penant though Never thought I’d be legendary, but fuck it I’m in it so [Hook]