The Game - What Type of Nigga - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

What Type of Nigga

The Game

Q.B. 2 Compton

42

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Hook:] x2 Real gangstaz stand up, hold they dick Bitch niggas sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you? I'm the type to pack a gat or few Pull out and pop, simply cause I'm mad at you [The Game] Y'all niggas see me when I'm come through; and ain't no denyin That them big motherfuckers is twenty-five Swayin in and out of white line, six double-oh Deuce zeroes, I'm feelin like the streets is mine Mines hustle, mucho dinero, heat's confined See more fall guys than Foreman/Ali combined If there's beef, I'm releasin mine And I won't stop bustin 'til them Escalade seats recline The kid roll with a greasy nine, come through and blast I return shots like Arthur Ashe You do the math, ten shots, ten dead bodies Fuck bein sorry, it ain't nuttin but a gangsta party And I'll make sure ain't a nigga survivin Shoot up the ambulance, make sure it ain't a nigga there to revive him And the Game ain't tryin to win, fuck the awards So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong nigga [Hook] [The Game] Trust me dog, ain't shit you can put in your rap That'll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that's that Niggas thinkin I retired my Chuck, put the gun back in the holsters Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster But that don't stop the heater from bangin, or me comin through Droppin all y'all niggas with three in the chamber Keep two mac-10's when I'm rollin, one in the changer One when I push the button's right next to the cupholder Dog we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game Let's say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain Ain't gotta look over my shoulder, I'm good with the aim Good with the handle and the bullet's good with the bloodstains And the coroner's real good with that pickup A1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time Put you niggas next to each other how I do 'em in line [Hook] [The Game] Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home If beef cook then I'm bringin the chrome If I die then I'm leavin a clone; but if I live Through the drama one mo' time then them boys gotta dig When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big When I'm rhymin on the road, I listen to Jig Bump Nas off that purple, sittin on the block And when I'm loadin up them clips, I listen to 'Pac A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo' guns Than F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S got jerseys And you might get 'em all in the face when shit get thick Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey And ain't nuttin to do a driveby in the hood We ain't even got survival, but I'mma still take that ride Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it Think this shit a joke? Bet the S-5 pink on it [Hook]
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