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All right, everybody shut up I said shut up! Now are you ready to play the game? No! Are you ready to play the game? Yeah! The Game Playing to survive Aiming to win anyway they can Yo, yo Pass the ball, final casting call First of all, verbal basketball Off the glass, smash your jaw Too fast for y'all You might take a nasty fall Trying to stick with the prehistoric passenger (Foul Ball) All breath, no physical contact Bounce back, demonstrate invincible bomb raps Not no hustler no player or speakin no crime crap I'm vocally trying to score before my time lapse Uh! Full court press, hands in your chest Runnin' cause I'm a rebel with the ghetto No fouls just checks, make a brother sweat Word for y'all to earn my reject Get it out of here, attack from the rear Y'all niggas ain't nothing but some bitch ass queers I'll be in your ear, increase the fear Ripping with the shears as the crowd just cheers Bring on the opposition Cause my position is to shut you down As the basketball pounds on the concrete floor Envisioning moves to freak brothers every which way Dominating like Doc J. Pass me the rock, I know just what to do with it It's real vivid, I pivot, through the lane Three hundred and sixty behind my back I take your monkey ass to the rack like Jerry Stack I'm saw by most recruiters and heavily recommended Sticking your best shooters they lower verbal percentage It's taking its toll, 24-second clock control Stopping this obstacle, impossible I was the number one ? project in the city Prospect, now that's something that you can believe So be it, whether pro or collegiate, the hit but don't miss Prime time the offense, switch Y'all can't ball, y'all can't ball Yo ref, where's the tech? Man, make the call The game is getting tight verbal victories in sight What counts is what you write not concerned about the hype My rhymes go baseline so why you trying to take mine? Last man tried just died inside the paint line I bank rhymes, got a call so I flex I'm on the foul line with a few verses left When my flow hits the net, the next brother flex I put my foot in the pavement With the brothers I'm raised with Play with and break dance back in the days with And still in the game with 12 points, 4 assists Get up in the game, in your face like swish Crash the boards with metaphors In the air like a concord Hey yo what you out for? Yo I'm out for the whole score 22 flat seconds for me to win I can't win for losing with this cheating ass ref My squad's supreme So I don't need Clyde or the dream Next time you play the game boy pick a better team Your choice is short when you on a concrete court But my mental cohorts is bout to change the whole sport Give me the pill boy, crossover with the skills Wrap around pass, fly right past your grill Take off from half court, in some J5 shorts The rap band with the man when my words play sports Comin' through your lane, with pure skills so stand clear Vocal charge is a mirage, I still stand here Damn near, make your shit look soft like Pam Grier Fans cheer for the paragraph Bill Lambier Show me the rock, so I can show these fool what I got (He's heating up) F*ck that, I'm flaming hot Verbally take you to the blacktop, and wreck shop Turn my game up a notch, pass me the rock 1 on 1, 3 on 3, 5 on 5, horse, 21 It really don't matter cause son you'll still get done Yo you should know better than try to barter with this globetrotter Militious, vicious dunks, I'm Vince Carter And it's the high draft pick, flashing it Still can penetrate and slightly overweight But whatever it takes my shot can elevate No pain, no gain for the brothers with no game
Written by: ISAAC HAYES, DAVID PORTER, CHARLES STUART, MARC STUART, DANTE GIVENS, LUCAS MCFADDEN, MARC POTSIC, COURTNEY HENDERSON, AFRIKA SWEENEY, MARVIN FOWLER
Lyrics © WARNER CHAPPELL MUSIC INC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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