Lyrics:
z
I guess by now you can tell you miss me
The baddest motherfucker in rap history
One to the temple put you out your misery
That's not an album
you know
I don't like rappers who say they got next
When they've been in the game for 10 years or so
Impressed by the fact that you fake niggas famous
day by day
Hopin that the Lord can, pave my way
Have I been forgotten, have I forsaken
Or maybe I'm just wrong with the moves that I've
of the maniac dressed in black carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, POW!!)
Cause I don't play games, an outlaw like Jesse
Wall, with the wood out my grill
I can do a girl wrong, and she goin' be by me still
I can get caught cheating on my feet, maybe she will
Never leave,
Game- Im feeling like a muthafuckin boss bangin 2pac
high as a muthafuckin queens bitch rooftop
blowing on this purple haze feeling invincible
sellin
you stuck in a three
So you know your floss game ain't nuttin to me
When the sun hits the cross, yo it's something to see
are-be , Kid Capri niggas
to trick
Equipped with game so we bang with this thuggish shit
I see you tryin' to hide, hopin' that nobody don't notice
You must always remember
You're
Ok alright
Hey this song right there
Was off the first album I ever made
It's called Reasonable Doubt
Also was fortunate enough to be
Blessed by
still flame
But they love you on the come-up 'cause you ain't tainted by fame
And you still they little secret
That's the type of bullshit that they
Ayo Game, this that '92 shit
We the Best dream team
They don't want us to have sauce on these shrimps and steaks
They don't want us on exotic
to spit a lot of game
But back then, I was just saying my name
I had a record player, on my stereo
Got down on my knees with my radio
From Oakland
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin' to your album
And I ain't heard nothin' you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You
{Word?} Ain't he a Reverend now, collectin plates
At churches and shit?
(He's spittin flames right now baby
He at the top of his game, right now
I'm tellin,
the tales that I tell so well
(Short Dog)
I'm thinkin' way back, it's been a long, long time
In 1980 I wrote my first rhyme
I like to spit a lot of game
But
drink and smoke marijuana, want us to change our ways? Uh-huh
You see this game we play come from uncles that raised me in Compton
Ask me what I have
bang, look at the way my chain glow
The ring on my fing' cost your
Man a lot of dough (Oh)
The fuck am I bustin' my brain fo'?
It's just the way the game
understand
That one rapper stepped and left
And then ya bend him
That shit ain't right but peep game
These brothers got somethin' to
Prove so I'ma exchange
know by living
In the neighborhood familiar
With those sounds we knew it was gunshots
So automatically you know we started
Taking cover because we
Didn't
the banister
Shoot him on camera then kill his manager
Then hang a banner up
That reads you can't proceed
Without bein' conceived
By one album of the 90's
Some said it wouldn't work, some said it wouldn't last
In New York, they say that the tempo's too fast
You disregarded, but the albums got charted
We put
niggas in the game
A lotta niggas got two albums I can't explain
How they maintain to keep the same migraines
I can't help it if my brain is supersonic
don't touch the crown
By the way, that's Uncle Brown
A gyal dem a run me down, cuh
Ayy, look Stormz this is soul baby
The kind of soul that gave
Stella
Daddy Domingo presents
Harvey Heretic and The Emaculate Concept Album
I don't think I'm worthy to be loved by you
Although I was given blessings in
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