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letra de fuck n da game - dj squeeky

[verse 1: criminal manne]
ridin’ in the chevy thang, cruisin’, bout the stay in range
cheesin’ on them gold thangs, scopin’, it’s the criminal manne
constantly ballin’, lookin’ for a build up, busta
stick ’em up, lay back down, shut em up, shut em up motherf-cker
pullin’ over to the side, couples lines, purging cash
thought to myself for a minute and came to my senses, i gotta get his ass
jumped out of the car, straight to his ride, sn-tched open the door
put that tec to his face and said “ballin’ off hoe”
ballin’, i’m losing my mind, i’m kinda paranoid
steady lookin’ around with a frown, tryna dodge them blue boys
stopped at the gas station, put that b-tch in the trunk
yo, i’m bout my hoe k!llin’, ballin’, tryna stage punks
man gettin’ high, smokin’ weed, now it’s after dark
by ballin’, scowling, scratching rubbеr, jet to the nearеst car
pulled that b-tch out the back, smacked him, bucked him, hit him in his face
n-gga, what it matter what the dope pulls, trick ass n-gga, don’t make me catch a case
punk ass boy, don’t try to test my pimpin’
i got a package to feed, ima need some, n-gga, let’s just handle business
trick if i were you, i wouldn’t try to test my nuts
cause a player like myself, in the game just f-cked up
[hook]
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese

[verse 2: criminal manne]
back in my hood, listen up good, standin’ on the track
b-tches beepin’ hoes, freakin’, instead i just smoke a sack
once again i got my ass in cuz i had to stain that boy
cuz when i pulled that trick’s cheese, i was singing (“ship ahoy, ship ahoy, ship ahoy”)
fist full of bricks in my hand, i’m the mane
with the yam, god d-mn, i’m insane to da game
looked around, what do i see? is it a bird, is it a bee?
aw man (what you be saying?) 5-0’s, they comin’ for me
pop ’em in it, what should i do? grab my pistol, wanna start shootin’
jet through the cut, ballin’ around and like a junky on them drugs fool
hit the alley down the valley, i hid behind a pine tree
coppers mad as f-ck, they turn up sh-t cuz they can’t find me
jet to the chevy, pounds a sweat comin’ from my face
a cop, f-cked up and seen me, now i’m ballin’, put ’em on a highspeed chase
doin’ a dance, that’s my ass, if they catch me, ima be hanged
hit the gas, real fast, [?] screamin’ [?], now they gotta play a mack
left them b-tches in the wind (ima holla at you friend)
so catch up with yo kind, trick, come to pimpin’, i don’t think it’s thin
made it to my crib, chill, layin’ in my blow mane
every single day, just the same sh-t, a player f-cked in the game
[hook]
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese

[verse 3: dj zirk]
k!llaz, k!llaz, orange mound n-ggas
strapped with them thangs, it’s all in the game
these n-ggas on the run, so n-gga, flip to tone
it’s time to get it on, it’s time to get it on
these n-ggas know the mound’s too motherf-ckin’ thick
i’m ready to go to war on these busta ass b-tches
n-gga, while you sleep, a n-gga’s on the creep
n-gga, lay it down, shootin’ round after round
so back up off this sh-t, a n-gga packin’ ’em thangs
a n-gga feelin’ strange, a n-gga just insane
n-ggas, watch yo back, i’m strapped with that glock
rippin’, slippin’ mass, it’s time to hit that block
lock em’ in my trunk, drag him to the river
leave his body cold, no remorse for this n-gga
ballin’ down punk, creepin’ after dark
orange mounds n-ggas, k!llers from da park
i’m real about this sh-t, i’m down about my cl!ck
i’m all about my hoes, i fiend to stain a b-tch
my n-ggas in the hood robbin’ n-ggas, makin’ stains
a n-gga packin’ ’em thangs, a n-ggas swingin’ ’em thangs
straight off da block, n-ggas selling rocks
motherf-ck the cops, they ass gettin’ popped
livin’ in the city, in memphis, tennessee, mane
but still you just don’t hear me, i’m f-cked in the game
[hook]
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
b-tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane i’m gone f-ck a hoe
playaz like me in the game just f-cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care cuz i need some cheese

[verse 4: thugsta & criminal manne]
if i remember, hmm, it was on a wednesday afternoon
i was chillin’, smokin’ and drinkin’ with my n-ggas in the hotel room
just got sucked and f-cked by a couple of [?] freaks
kicked them hoes to the curb, can’t deal with no b-tch when you tryna make some cheese
cruisin’ down the interstate, he suggestin’ we hit down town
(lover’s lane) where the pretty boys hang
(with them hoes) ridin’ clean
hit the jacks and exit out the chevy, used the telephone
called my n-gga criminal, told him the tale, tell me, hold on
constantly gettin’ beat by this silly ass b-tch [?] ass
told bout sh-t (hoes) if it don’t make dollars, it don’t make sense
now back to what i was sayin’, you got ya (gat strapped
like a mack, 2 clips, a hollow tip and a yard full of scr-p, mane, let’s ride black)
hop back in the ride, fed up a blunt and punch this b-tch to sale
ballin’ down, walkin’, turn on valentine, hit a across from jail
to the pool, housin’ me, main mane, criminal, mr. ink
miss was in the back, chiefin’, choppin’ up a swisha sweet
so we switch cars, me and dre jumped in my roadie jeep
ballin’, smokin’ and chokin’ on some hay, on the business creep
made it to our destination, scopin’ out this love couple
(dating, no) tryna be romantic, get they ass in trouble
jumped out quick with my tone to his b-tch
don’t turn around, trick, empty ya pockets and gimme ya cash before you feel like the last b-tch
left ’em in the sand, holdin’ hands, mane, i get away clean
[?] the cash, hey, ugh, ugh, you know what i mean

- dj squeeky

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