Game - Business Never Personal lyrics

(feat. JT)

[The Game]

Yo, when I'm out in Oakland, catch me in the silver and black Coupe

With two Desert Eagles and an ounce of glue

When I'm out in San Fran, the P.D. real nervous

Cause they know I'm packin heat under the Willie Mays jersey

Nigga, it ain't nuttin for me to empty a clip

Or wave my guns in the air and just enter ya strip

I know about gangs, had shootouts with plenty of Crips

I sold crack and been out of town with plenty of bricks

So ain't nuttin you can tell me, about the game

Come with beef and leave here without your brains

And I'ma drive upstate and try to bounce this 'caine

In that Shelby the same color as moutanin rain

And you know I got the South clickin

Cause ain't nuttin like niggaz with gold teeth and them down South chickens

So fuck with my D and get found wit'cha mouth missin

This ain't about you and me it's about business nigga

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

It's business never personal, real live on blocks

If we ain't movin the rocks, then we movin the stocks

Cross a hustler motherfucker you'll arrive in a box

It's the true to life struggle 'til we arrive on top

[JT]

They don't understand me, like the Birdman I got candy

Put the herb in, I got family

I'm doin 85, in the 50-mile-an-hour lane

Tryin to handle my business, the Figgaro stack change

Independent tycoons (tycoons) - yeah

My niggaz puff trees, snort coke and chew shrooms

Bad to the bone (to the bone)

And cain't trust a nigga for shit cause Feds on the phone

My whole crew dirty, fuckin with amphetamines

Catch you slippin blow your whole crew to smitharines

Now the streets knowin (knowin)

And I'ma run this shit back with my foot broke like Terrell Owens

Still blowin

Like Mike Jones of the Swishahouse, gold knock them bitches outs

We take trips out to Houston and D.C.

For the West coast, nigga can you feel me?

[Chorus]