"Real Gangstas" lyrics

[The Game & Hurricane Chris:]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the niggas who hollering that they was gangster
Riding with my locs on mask on banging
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
I'm riding with my locs on mask on banging
We gon' teach you niggas 'bout fucking with real gangsters

[The Game:]
I'm hammered up, bandanna'd, 2 2 2 3's when the chopper blow
And I be loading banana clip toting
My khaki suit represent what I be rolling
The phantom roof open I'm smoking, smoking
Cincinnati Red on my head no joking
Might be choking but I ain't slipping
My Glock stay smoking like
I'm smoking, purple haze, riding with Ks
Split a nigga wig, fuck what he did
It is what is gotta live how I live
Black bird gang rapping tongue off in this bitch
'Til that day come I running up asking where you from
Hoping that your swagger came with a motherfucking gun
So we can shoot it out
Every day a nigga gotta bring the Ruger out
No fool about when the 2 2s is out
We disturbing the peace
And the police would think we at Luda's house
So fool get out of your car
You toting them choppers you know where you are
H-u-double-r-i-c-a-n-e times 2 motherfucker
We hitting the switches
My chopper to me is like Ricky to Ross
The longer the clip the bigger the boss
They're throwing it up we getting it off
We burying niggas for thinking we soft
D's ride by we flicking 'em up off
Take off the shields we kicking it off
Play off safety like Champ Bailey
Throw it my way I'm picking it off

[The Game & Hurricane Chris:]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the niggas who hollering that they was gangster
Riding with my locs on mask on banging
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
I'm riding with my locs on mask on banging
We gon' teach you niggas 'bout fucking with real gangsters

[Hurricane Chris:]
I'm riding through the city
Looking for them haters
Who hollering 'bout they're gon' do me something
But I know they ain't gon' do me nothing
'Cause they don't really pose a threat
But if they really don't pose a threat
Then why you tripping like you tripping
'Cause I gotta go get my respect
I'm sticking the clip in that black Mac 11
And aiming it at them bitch niggas that
Play me like a hoe I been gangster since I was 4
And I'm so cutthroat that it really don't make sense
When they should have let me in the door
I speak shit that's hot enough to make the pilot leave the cockpit
Yo chick want to get wretched
That bitch told me I'm the top pick
I got so much money they invented a new wallet
My swag to the maximum
I'm flier than a rocket
And none of you little bitch ass boys don't want no problems
Most of them niggas who brought their guns be some cowards
But 100-round drum 100 buns at the [?]
We keep dirty revolvers in the console by the driver seat
Ride by his house without no talking and the choppers speak

[The Game & Hurricane Chris:]
Cadillac Escalades, candy paint, shop and blaze
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
2 2 3's on the backseat of the Lac seat
Looking for the niggas who hollering that they was gangster
Riding with my locs on mask on banging
Looking for the niggas that hollering that they was gangster
I'm riding with my locs on mask on banging
We gon' teach you niggas 'bout fucking with real gangsters

[Bizzy Bone:]
A ghetto gang-banger
Mama couldn't grab me with hanger
Triple shots attack and lawyers with no retainers
Niggas call me an animal, I'm forever Lucian let's kill
Anything moving like Huey Newton
My recruitants! Black panthers and black talents
All my gang-bangers, my heart face breakers with talent
Want a million, keep you hostage with all yo children
Try hold up by ransom
I'm psychotic like Charles Manson
Of the vernacular blood sucking like vacula
Little mobster eating that red lobster feeling spectacular
[?] that's my stelo
I thought that wouldn't sell without ya sold 5 kilos
I'm a survivor, my niggas is dope dealers and riders
Killers incorporated, hate it
They despise us, mama they tryna kill me
I often wonder why, Mr. [?]
You got what's clocking
Let niggas die I'm a genius