Speakers On Blast

The Game

    Continues after the ad

    It's not usual, the game be, all up on some South shit
    Straight West Coasting, you can tell by my outfit
    Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, Blood out" shit
    Empty jelly jars, nigga, bird in the couch shit
    The mad rapper, Oscar the Grouch shit
    Except when I'm hopping out of cans, I'm pulling out shit
    Dippin' the 4 though, double X 3-D Polo
    If hip-hop was the league, I'd be the motherfuckin logo
    Your last shit was so-so, you should sign to Jermaine
    I've been hard since I was solo
    Niggas feel my pain, I make it rain without the strippers
    Go against the grain, and put your shit back like some clippers
    I bang and then I hang out at the Staples like Blake Griffin
    You can tell I'm getting money the way that glass house is sitting
    I mash out the strip then like Nas when I'm dippin
    Feeling like God's Son, the way that It Was Written

    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I got another ounce up in the stash
    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I take 2 hits, and then I pass

    I see the cops in the rearview, why can't a motherfucker chill in the car
    Feelin' like Missy, why you all up in my grill
    They must know that I got bird stashed all up in my grill
    Camouflage by the Armor All while it's sparkling off my wheels
    And I fuck hoes that prey on Dwight Howard and Shaquille
    Not them throwback rats they be on showin' college hill
    For real, I think my first album sold 5 mil'
    And you say to yourself "He's broke"
    Well how the hell am I ballin', like Spalding
    I did a couple of movies, now agents calling and calling
    Can't get to the phone right now cause balls is all in this bitch mouth
    When did we start taking these tricks out?
    Now she gon' run her big mouth and tell her girlfriend
    You had her all up in the wind
    Blowing yo cheese on Louie Vuitton, and now that bitch is in the wind
    And after the next draft, she gon' start that cycle again
    How you claimin' that bitch when she with him?
    Come again cause

    Continues after the ad

    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I got another ounce up in the stash
    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I take 2 hits, and then I pass

    Daddy Fat Sax, my balls are on your chin, but can you tell me where my dick's at?
    Come order ghetto, head hunter, head buster through the chit-chat
    I skip to the lou, my darling bring the thunder, I'm the lightning that strikes twice
    Motherfucker, call me masssa, cause I runs the plantation and I'm whooping niggas asses
    If they disrespect the presentation, below the Mason-Dixon, we facin' the basses that were missin' pimpin'
    You can embrace it or come face to face with total devastation
    My mojo is never fadin', I'm in my Optimus Prime transform
    Switch it up, heat it up, speed it up, that means I'm gone
    Light years, ahead of your Buzz, Toy Story and club songs
    Boy, gone, the A-T-L-iens are phoning home
    But I feel like a librarian, cause style's are being' loaned out like books
    A castle full of crooks, rape and pillage
    They'll do anything for money, I bet misleading the village

    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I got another ounce up in the stash
    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I take 2 hits, and then I pass

    Not from New England, but I pack a patriot
    Not from Atlanta, but I got the cater
    Not from Chicago, but I'm a bear
    I'm a bay area nigga, 49er, Raider
    I'm about my bread man, I ain't no sucker
    Now these bitch ass niggas soft as table butter
    I'm about my riches, magazines, street hustler
    You can ask your uncles, daddies, mothers, and your older brothers
    But I used to flee through that yellow white
    Sellin' that shit below the retail price
    I'm a rare breed like the bike club, get it right
    Desperado like Tori Amos, shout out to dynamite
    I got my red cup, and some green
    What kind of green you smoking pimp? Blue dream
    My nigga let my hit that there hemp, do your thing
    How many woofers in your trunk? 4 15s

    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I got another ounce up in the stash
    Them boys want they music on blast
    Don't turn me down, turn me up every time them cops pass
    Mashed on the gas, am I getting high, don't even ask
    Cause I take 2 hits, and then I pass

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