The Game

The Game - Red Bandana lyrics

not! *echoing*

blackwall street

the game

beach boy

charli baltimore (he wears a red bandana)

rockstar

we are the black gang

free shye

mother fuckers! (he wears a red bandana)

[chorus]

on the front of murder dog (he wears a)

on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)

the whole world know (he wears a)

every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)

50 told the nypd (he wears a)

why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)

all the pirus know (he wears a)

even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)

[verse 1]

chea chea

dear god let me clense my soul/ throw away all the rims and the gold/

o no I cant do that/ do I love god? True dat/ but I got a gun so move back/

im loco like 5 eses in the side of chevelle ridin on low pros/

im a renegade ride with the 44/ been a gangbanger all my life, fuck the popo/

I aint never been a cocky kid/ know they could kill me if they shot pac and big/

but I let my bandana hang/ in the city of angles we gangbang/

I move that chronic and yayo/ way before I met 50, banks, buck and yayo/

ask eminem, even dr. dre know/ I put one in last ten in the range rov/

used to push that rock like jay hov/ you better lay low when the ak blow/

or get wings and a halo/ run to the hood and tell em im the nigga they gotta pray for/

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah/

I said run to the hood and tell em im the nigga they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low

[chorus]

on the front of murder dog (he wears a)

on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)

the whole world knows (he wears a)

every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)

50 told the nypd (he wears a)

why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)

all the pirus know (he wears a)

even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)

[verse 2]

chea chea

im a gangbanger don't get it fucked up/ you aint never bang, you aint never laces chucks up/

so how the fuck you gon criticize me/ I aint the reason niggas is bangin the nyc/

makin bullshit threats on the m.i.c./ I don't wake up in cold sweats when I sleep/

I live comfortably/ with a red rag tied around the 45 in case nigga try to come for me/

mad cause I started my own company/ I don't know what the fuck niggas want from me/

except something for free/ before the documentary dropped, you bitch niggas wasn't bumpin me/

and to some degree/ I gotta keep that 4-5th under me/ I don't run from beef/

it's either cock back, squeeze, or be underneath/ cause im from the streets of (compton)

and my grandmother died before I was multi/ wasn't raised right cause my parents was both high/

high off cocaine, my introduction to the dope game came in 85 watchin soul train/

mama told me I was the future, and one day I'll be fly like soul plane/

just don't bang/ but back then, I'd do anything for a jerri-curl and a gold chain/

niggas always got something to say/ like they aint never bumped n.w.a./

punk niggas talk shit, but when they need hits they swallow their fucking pride and come runnin to dre/

niggas come to LA when they need to talk/ cause kanye told everybody jesus walks/

bush killed more niggas in the towers then gangbanging ever did, that's why they need new york/

[chorus]

on the front of murder dog (he wears a)

on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)

the whole world knows (he wears a)

every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)

50 told the nypd (he wears a)

why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)

all the pirus know (he wears a)

even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)

[outro]

yeah mother fuckers

chuck taylor

o you thought I forgot about that alias huh

im going back to my roots

g-unit is dead

as a staff, a record label, and a mother fuckin group

your clothes cant sell

your shoes are straight garbage

your movies suck!

chicken little killed you nigga

hahahaha *echos*

how you like it nigga

I took yo style

I aint doin no third verse

imma just talk to you nigga

like you do when you get mad at me cause you cant fuck with me lyrically mother fucker!!!

you gon do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks

you like the rap linsey lohan you fuckin faggot

write 8 bars about me nigga

I do this shit all day 50!

curtis jackson

boo boo

marcussnitch

black wall street c. e. o. mother fuckas!

hurricanes in stores december 26th

stop snitchin stop lyin the dvd in stores december 6th

it's a tell all nigga

wait till my movie come out

im glad it aint based on my life

with that knock off 8 mile shit

you could never be eminem mother fucker

you aint lyrically inclined enough to be jay-z, nas, b.i.g. or pac

and in the modern daytoday, tomorrow, next week

you cant fuck with the game nigga!

out

Get this song at:  amazon.com sheetmusicplus.com

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