"Nothing But A Game Thang" lyrics
Ha-ha, the drama king motherfuckers
Addicted to beef pt. 2, The Game is in New York in Converse, Ha
Come to Cali get jumped in the gang
If you ain't a crip like Snoop or a blood like Game
Niggas'll run upon you and snatch your chain
Leave you on the ground leaking that purple rain
'Cause you fucking with the Compton hood rats
If you blowing out her back and back in she unloading a clip out your ratchet, that's how it happen
Tell Carmelo, for the right price I'll get his drink embezzled
And send her back to Denver, all I want in return
Is to autograph Andre Miller, that's gangster 45 stainless
Me?! I ain't ever gotta tuck my chain in
You want beef I'll show you what pain is
You ain't gotta ask Marshall Mathers what my name is
Come to Compton I'll show you where the 'caine is
Got up to 9-5 since Buck came in
Cops come I'm 'a dash like Damon
'Til these S dots start making my feet hurt
Then put a million in the Nikes that LeBron wear
And they need work should've came with a T-shirt
G-Unit hogtied, niggas feed first
While your bitch sucking Tony Yayo 'til her knees hurt
You better suck him like he just came home
Then he went back in, then he just came home
And the beef won't be a day long
'Cause I'll put 5 niggas in place like an NBA zone
And you can shoot your way out or pull a K out
But when the smoke clears everybody laid out
At the scene, then slide of in a six-trey Impala dragon green
If I crash that I'm 'a paint the wagon cream
So I can put that in Lowrider Magazine
If I don't win I'm taking jewelry, patting jeans
I don't care if you 7 foot with packing Gs
I got a full black jacket thing and a black magazine
So don't make my ratchet sing
Unless you feel like doing your casket thing
In the church where it might hear around a Jackson theme
In Compton it got average fiends, we got the ones
That run in your house and kill you for a plasma screen
They'll do anything to put the rock in the antenna
Have you spitting to O-Boy like Juelz Santana
I dipped in your set, red bandanna
With a bitch from Harlem that only speak Spanish
But she know what the plan is
Drew by the fat guy and back to her man crib
She got ass like she from Atlanta
Fuck her brains out then slide on my G6 canvas
Like I play softball, pitch rock underhanded
Dre made it happen now I'm G-Unit-branded, bitch
Yeah motherfucker
First nigga on the West Coast that holds two mixtapes
On the East Coast back to back motherfuckers, suck my dick
Ain't nothing of y'all can do to stop (the City of Compton), ha-ha-ha
Yeah motherfuckers, I'm in New York like a Yankee fitter
Somebody call the N.Y.P.D.
Send that boy back to Cali 'fore I fuck somebody up
Aftermath, G-G-G-G-Unit
Addicted to beef pt. 2, The Game is in New York in Converse, Ha
Come to Cali get jumped in the gang
If you ain't a crip like Snoop or a blood like Game
Niggas'll run upon you and snatch your chain
Leave you on the ground leaking that purple rain
'Cause you fucking with the Compton hood rats
If you blowing out her back and back in she unloading a clip out your ratchet, that's how it happen
Tell Carmelo, for the right price I'll get his drink embezzled
And send her back to Denver, all I want in return
Is to autograph Andre Miller, that's gangster 45 stainless
Me?! I ain't ever gotta tuck my chain in
You want beef I'll show you what pain is
You ain't gotta ask Marshall Mathers what my name is
Come to Compton I'll show you where the 'caine is
Got up to 9-5 since Buck came in
Cops come I'm 'a dash like Damon
'Til these S dots start making my feet hurt
Then put a million in the Nikes that LeBron wear
And they need work should've came with a T-shirt
G-Unit hogtied, niggas feed first
While your bitch sucking Tony Yayo 'til her knees hurt
You better suck him like he just came home
Then he went back in, then he just came home
And the beef won't be a day long
'Cause I'll put 5 niggas in place like an NBA zone
And you can shoot your way out or pull a K out
But when the smoke clears everybody laid out
At the scene, then slide of in a six-trey Impala dragon green
If I crash that I'm 'a paint the wagon cream
So I can put that in Lowrider Magazine
If I don't win I'm taking jewelry, patting jeans
I don't care if you 7 foot with packing Gs
I got a full black jacket thing and a black magazine
So don't make my ratchet sing
Unless you feel like doing your casket thing
In the church where it might hear around a Jackson theme
In Compton it got average fiends, we got the ones
That run in your house and kill you for a plasma screen
They'll do anything to put the rock in the antenna
Have you spitting to O-Boy like Juelz Santana
I dipped in your set, red bandanna
With a bitch from Harlem that only speak Spanish
But she know what the plan is
Drew by the fat guy and back to her man crib
She got ass like she from Atlanta
Fuck her brains out then slide on my G6 canvas
Like I play softball, pitch rock underhanded
Dre made it happen now I'm G-Unit-branded, bitch
Yeah motherfucker
First nigga on the West Coast that holds two mixtapes
On the East Coast back to back motherfuckers, suck my dick
Ain't nothing of y'all can do to stop (the City of Compton), ha-ha-ha
Yeah motherfuckers, I'm in New York like a Yankee fitter
Somebody call the N.Y.P.D.
Send that boy back to Cali 'fore I fuck somebody up
Aftermath, G-G-G-G-Unit
