[Intro: Game]
These n***as got me f**ed up (x5)
These n***as got me, I think
These n***as got me f**ed up
[Verse 1: Game]
I be on the block with that chrome boy, Postin' up with my home boy
Leanin' on the 2 tone boy, What you want for them zones boy
10-5? 10-4, put it on the scale, add a little more
Take a shot of that 'tron boy, bag it up and then gone boy
They givin' quarters out, watch yourself on that phone boy
They gave me seventeen, his mama singing that song boy
We gettin' money baby, we gettin' cash money
Stuntin' like the Birdman, sittin' on my dash
120 on the dash, 4 Giottos on the wheeeeeels (on the wheels)
Paper stacking's too long boy, blowing Cheech and that Chong boy
Better watch that tone boy, headshots to that dome boy
[Hook: Game]
These n***as got me f**ed up (x5)
They got me, I think
These n***as got me f**ed up
Hold up, these b**hes got me f**ed up (x3)
I think these b**hes got me f**ed up
[Verse 2: Menace]
Think a n***a trip the way I walk around
Gotta keep that pistol on my hip to lay them haters down
Gotta keep them b**hes on my dick then I bring Game around
Paper stash gon' break em down, f** 'em hard don't make a sound
I'm all up in your trap boy, ride around with that pistol
Gotta keep the b**h in my lap boy, hater n***as, come get ya
Made my n***as rab, my n***as clean, we do it, dare try to intervene
Thats suicide f**in' with my team, I'm blowing clouds and I'm 'bout the cream
Yeah, and I'm bout that sh**, we for of chips, and I'm flossin' hoes
Y'all full of sh**, not s**in' the O's, I'm too legit and I'm tippin' 4's
You n***as really want it, b**hes lookin' silly for it
Really kin the whip is foreign, n***as lookin' real important
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Game]
Say boy, ever had a b**h all up in your crib
Stickin' that dick all up in the ribs
Then she tell f** n***as where you live
And now they all up in your sh**
Flippin' matresses over, turnin' couches sideways
They thinkin' crime pays
Got a choppa
For the n***as that don't understand how the f** we ope-
-rate and anyway get back on top of my paper chase
Kush burnin', slow dragon, 29's, been had 'em
n***as take shots, then runnin' high
We'll find their a**, Bin Ladin
Me and Mike in the Benz wagon, better watch your block boy
Purple clouds of that Pepé Le Pew, I'm gone of that Ciroc boy
Clipped up to that pop boy, holdin' on to that knot boy
Palms grippin' that Glock boy, we comin' back for them yachts boy
[Hook]