Yeah... Yeah man we them niggaz everybody talkin 'bout Hey yo, yo
[Verse One] Whether it's, chips or whips or bricks of 'caine I still shine at the end when y'all forced to rain Changed the game, three shots parade ya Range Hit the passenger, driver, old man on a cane I'm a shell in the chamber, waitin to pop Like Stoudamire on the court I'm used to movin the rock Cruise in the drop, 740, snub in the box My attitude shifty, never callin the cops A Green Bay jersey, out on Bennett puffin hershey D's on the route tryin to catch a nigga dirty Respect the flow, better yet respect the dough He get respect like rich and po' Fuck a 9 to 5, I'd rather wake up and spit bars And your wife, known to make my dick hard Cartier lenses, 22's on my Benz's When shit break out, y'all hit the fences
[Chorus] We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin sticks, spliff up We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about Unidentifiable straps makin heat clap sicker We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about We about reliable scratch and gettin this math quicker We are the hustlers everyone's talkin about
[Verse Two] Shit I might as well be duels, cause they call me the Flowmaster I keep ridin tracks like a natural disaster You know I'm 'bout macra{?} I'll clap ya, a pirate like {?} Far from a Hollywood actor A factor, focused on paper and cars I move like crowds, stay minglin with the stars I'm in the 6500 Benz truck with some broads Dimes in every state I strike through be on me so hard You know them Bentley bound, {?} down, wild Hummer chicks That wanna take the car, cover up your tight summer shit The game's heavy, man that's way off the charts Heavier than killer whales at animal theme parks You niggaz is SweeTarts, my family is street sharks We keep the ER busy tryin to revive the treat marks Shit, we merk niggaz like Eddie, get ready We got heat that set car alarms off like M-80's
[Chorus]
[The Game] The Game on some regular rhymin, fuck all this new shit When they gon' let real niggaz get on that cruise ship Black Sox and Dallas Squad got, chains and cars Get, brains from stars after those awards Miyagi's or doubles, don't think I won't buy out the bar That's little shit, Mercedes dealership, buy out the cars Sticker in the window, let 'em know that it's ours Sittin on shit you ain't never seen like we got it from Mars Game like Laker Will, snatch a bitch off your arm She see Game covered in ice like I lived through a snowstorm Plus I blow digits like my first name was {?} Pay off security at clubs, get our guns admitted Outside the club in the parkin lot, four dot six Not know it's stocked? Nigga it's the one we keep the bricks in Hard black on black leather's what we keep the chicks in And bitches stay sniffin like smellin dubs is a sixth sense
[Chorus]
Compositores: Jayceon Terrell Taylor (The Game), Joseph Tom ECAD: Obra #12990317