Freeway's Revenge

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The Game

The Game is an American rapper and actor. He emerged in the early 2000s with hits like "Hate It or Love It" and "How We Do." Known for his West Coast style and storytelling lyricism, The Game has released several successful albums throughout his career. He has collaborated with numerous notable artists in the industry and has gained a loyal fan base. more »

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All I ask is, that you keep it real with me
All I ask is, that you keep it real with me
All I ask is, ooh-ooh-ooh

Cut open his stomach and stuff bricks in it
Put his body on a scale like there's fish in it
I can see a bitch in him
Twenty million dollar home renovation, just to slit your wrists in it
Suicide, it's a suicide, rip apart the Maybach, I know the truth's inside
You twelve lemon pepper wings from a heart attack
Akademiks, get this nigga Ozempic starter pack
Kai Cenat, hit the room, turn that stream on
Ask Budden 'bout his brief encounter with King Kong
This ain't the Kendrick beef, my Drac' sing songs
Shots rings out, the neighbor better have his Ring on
Glocks swing out, doors open like a swing arm
Pac lean out, Makaveli with the ring on
Opps is out, they on the same shit that we on
Hospital wheelchair, head wrap, sling on
It's payback, punk, for the drama you tried to bring on
Maybach trunks, type of shit that we eat our wings on
My K-Dot shit, I don't have to turn the beam on
It's that, time of the month, get this pussy somethin' to bleed on
Your baby mama told me that you liked to get pee'd on
You a C.O., that's the last time you had keys on
And we know, you treat Gunplay like he a peon
And he know some shit that ain't cool for him to speak on
My PO said "this ain't the record that we agreed on"
Then cut it off like the ankle monitor for the beep on
My niggas'll learn French, just to get they steam on
In Cali, with calicos don't need Khaled to get his scream on
We the west
Free the guys, I gotta free the West
I'm muy loco, I don't need a vest
I'm watching Scarface and cleaning TECs
Shots gon' be direct, have you been through Cedar yet?
When cars pull up, we do explosives and heaters checks
The lights flick, the dogs bark, and niggas sleepin' less
Under palm trees, we got them choppas that'll eat your flesh
The real Rick Ross know every bird gotta leave the nest
You stole your name, I pulled your file (facts)
You looked at B.I.G. and stole his style (facts)
I smell pussy, that odor foul (foul)
You ain't sold no birds, you trolled the owl

Draco flick, it's like the lighter on Tha Carter IV
Bad kid, good city, I study the art of war
Runnin' to that hand-me-down mansion, and lock up all the doors
Stop with all that ravin', nigga, you not from Baltimore
I don't wanna hear about no fish tanks and marble floors
No spiral steps, no swimming pools, no Hors D'oeuvres, no Audemars
No car shows, no pinky rings, no umbrellas in the car doors
Introduce me and my connect to that Columbian you chop that raw for
Was it fabricated? The lies you tell are getting saturated?
What happened to the birds in the Maserati, they just evaporated? (Boss)
That shit be too exaggerated
Fuckin' with a Compton nigga, get your head decapitated
Let a DiCaprio, all that cap like you activated
"I just a bought a hundred foot yacht, and it was captivatin'"
Congratulations, what an imagination
From C.O. to drug kingpin now this nigga actin' Haitian
The stories these niggas tell
He gon' tell us he got a key for every nigga he locked in a cell
He gon' tell us he just bought another crib, he livin' well
But he won't tell us about his health condition, he sick as hell
He poppin' pills, they startin' to f*ck with his brain
Seizures off the lean, Balenciagas shorts got the shit stains
He not a mastermind, he Gotti, line after line
Lay back in the Maybach, makin' up shit just to pass the time
He think he Big Meech, free Larry Hoover
Miami a big beach, now watch how I maneuver
I don't tippy-toe, I know plenty Zoe's
That pull up in semi trucks, hop out and let a semi go
So let me know
I let the boys in them drop Chevys go
It's humid in the 305, but they pushin' heavy snow
Compton grim reaper, I'll make you reap what the devil sow
Walkin' through LIV with the same eyes niggas had in Belly though
This ain't the new Death Row, this the old Harry O
Game's one of them niggas, blue DaVinci, Meech and Terry know
So of my advice is let it go
Oh, I almost forgot
F*ck Bel-Air, it's West Side, we let the Henny flow
So when that muzzle smoke, and when that thing hot
Even when the camera out of focus, just know the beam not
Run up on you, clean shots, look down on you
Flash on like an iPhone taped to the ceiling with the screen locked
This nigga drug women, that's how your team rock?
And all that money you rap about gon' get you a mean plot
But in the meantime, I'ma let you fake fiends cop
And I know you're doing your thing, Ock
But this is where the wings stop

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