[Intro]
Not! [echoing]
Blackwall Street
The Game
Beach Boy
Charli Baltimore (he wears a red bandana)
Rockstar
We are the Black Gang
Free Shye
motherf**ers! (he wears a red bandana)
[Chorus]
On the front of murder talk (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world know (he wears a)
Every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the NYPD (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the Pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip n***az know (he wears a red bandana)
[Verse 1]
Chea chea
Dear God let me clense my soul, throw away all the rims and the gold
O no I can't do that, do I love God? True dat, but I got a gun so move back
I'm loco like 5 eases in the side of Chevelle ridin on low pros
I'm a renegade ride with the 44, been a g**ner all my life, f** the popo
I ain't never been a co*ky kid, know they could k** me if they shot Pac and Big
But I let my bandana hang, in the city of angles we g**n
I move that chronic and yayo, way before I met 50, Banks, Buck and Yayo
Ask Eminem, even Dr.Dre knows, I put one in last ten in the range rov
Used to push that rock like Jay Hov, you better lay low when the ak blow
Or get wings and a halo, run to the hood and tell 'em I'm the n***a they gotta pray for
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I said run to the hood and tell 'em
I'm the n***a they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low
[Chorus]
On the front of murder talk (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world know (he wears a)
Every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the NYPD (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the Pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip n***az know (he wears a red bandana)
[Verse 2]
Chea chea
I'm a g**ner don't get it f**ed up
You ain't never bang, you ain't never laces chucks up
So how the f** you gonna criticize me
I ain't the reason n***az is bangin the NYC
Makin bullsh** threats on the M.I.C.
I don't wake up in cold sweats when I sleep
I live comfortably, with a red rag tied
around the 45 in case n***a try to come for me
Mad cause I started my own company
I don't know what the f** n***az want from me
Except something for free
Before The Documentary dropped, you b**h n***az wasn't bumpin me
And to some degree, I gotta keep that 4-5th under me, I don't run from beef
It's either co*k back, squeeze
Or be underneath cause I'm from the streets of (Compton)
And my grandmother died before I was multi
wasn't raised right cause my parents was both high
High off c**aine, my introduction to the dope game came in 85 watchin soul train
Mama told me I was the future, and one day I'd be high like Soul Plane
Just don't bang/ but back then
I'd do anything for a jheri-curl and a gold chain
n***az always got something to say
Like they ain't never bumped N.W.A.
Punk n***az talk sh**, but when they need hits they come runnin to Dre
n***az come to LA when they need to talk
Cause Kanye told everybody Jesus Walks
Bush k**ed more n***az in the towers then g**ning ever did
That's why they need New York
[Chorus]
On the front of murder talk (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world know (he wears a)
Every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the NYPD (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell 'em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the Pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip n***az know (he wears a red bandana)
[Outro]
Yeah motherf**ers
Chuck Taylor
oh you thought I forgot about that alias huh?
I'm going back to my roots
G-Unit is dead
as a staff, a record label, and a motherf**in group
your clothes can't sell
your shoes are straight garbage
your movies s**!
Chicken Little k**ed you n***a
hahahaha [echos]
how you like it n***a
I took your style
I ain't doin no third verse
I'm just talk to you n***a
like you do when you get mad at me cause you can't f** with me lyrically motherf**er!!!
you gonna do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks
you like the rap Linsey Lohan you f**in f*ggot
write 8 bars about me n***a
I do this sh** all day 50!
Curtis Jackson
Boo Boo
Marcus... Snitch
Blackwall Street C.E.O. motherf**er!
Hurricanes in stores December 26th
Stop Snitchin Stop Lyin the DVDs in stores December 6th
it's a tell all n***a
wait till my movie come out
I'm glad it ain't based on my life
with that knock off 8 Mile sh**
you could never be Eminem motherf**er
you ain't lyrically inclined enough to be Jay-Z, Nas, B.I.G. or Pac
and in the modern day... today, tomorrow, next week
you can't f** with The Game n***a!
Out