Chris Ward - Rap Game lyrics

(*50 Cent*) This rap game, this rap game I ain't selling my soul, for this rap game And I ain't digging no hole, for this rap game Man I'm telling you, no it ain't happen-ayn This rap game, this rap game I ain't selling my soul, for this rap game And I ain't digging no hole, for this rap game This rap game, this rap game [Poppy] Man it's hilarious, to see some of the scariest n***as alive, rapping neck like they running they areas They out of character, now as a chemist recital A fairy tale rap, from cast as American Idol Wanna-be's, it ain't a gangsta bone in em The type that twitch, when you take a gangsta tone with em Stunting like everything, in the chamber won't hit em Fronting like Pharell, these n***as fraud as hell It ain't hard to tell, you n***as is squares The only gel they know, is the kind they put in they hair They ain't from your hood, but that's the one they put in the air When the beef come, displaying them looks of despair Yeah y'all n***as powderpuff, tough cause you powered up But n***as'll shower you, every hour on the hour punk With hollow tip slugs, follow my tip 'For them hollow tips, follow your lips get a grip [Scooby] Believe it or not, I still be bleeding them blocks Drop them undergrounds, cause 'Scoob be needing them knots We need 'em copped, soon as they turn the lights on I live the street life, with or without the mics on I'm nice home's, I ain't gotta explain myself Dad didn't do sh**, n***a I trained myself It was harder without a father, I blame myself Didn't talk to him much, I just came and left Yeah, I had my mind on some better sh** Get some cheddar quick, and I ain't singing or selling my soul to get a hit You hear me b**h, I ain't never been fly on no material sh** Ain't never been fly, I'm a General b**h I'm a gangsta, put the 4-5 to you thinker and bang you I don't know y'all n***as, y'all is strangers And f**ing with them boys, that's dangerous [Dre Day] Who gives a f** about pop culture, I'm from the hood Where they bleed blocks duck cops, f** bops and pop toasters Kids grow to gangstas, not bankers and stock brokers Glock chokers, you could lose your mind if you not focused By the nine, M-O-B the sh** it's the bottom line Me and Dre Day gotta shine, n***as looking like they bit a lime I'm on my grind, so it's no time to sit around Gotta get my cash, stack some cash that's the rap game Blades cause my 16's, slash cats I'm who they can't fade, so stop trying to gas cats Cause I run through em, like I'm a hat back Dre got the H locked they jealous, so I got the HK co*ked When you rap, it ain't sh** to clown and these broads Especially when there's yellow diamonds, in your Lord And you're dope and you flow sick, they quick to show you how deep they go We going through a lot, so I keep weed to smoke Like a torch how I roach sh**, got 'em hollin' Dre the best From coast to coast, competition looking so sick I got my fame, off respect of code But I been hot b**h, listen to my old school flows I f** dime pieces, y'all can have these descent hoes See I'm a rebel slash pimp, Dre Day leasing hoes All tights black whites, Puerto Rican hoes I'm getting this money day and night, till I decompose b**h, my name hot I'm getting three for shows b**h your name not, go delete your flows (*talking*) Yeah n***a, Grit Boys what's up My n***a Dre Day, one of my young n***as Out the motherf**ing camp uh, (it's C. Weezy) We sh** on n***as mayn, cause Grit Boys they sh** on n***as They don't give a f**, this rap game (you gon quit riding my dick) n***as be chunking they self selling they soul Jumping from dick to dick, click switching trying to get in where they fit in You know, trying to get a break or something I feel you But we don't sell our soul n***a (and ah this year baby I'm the boss-boss) (So please get off my dick, and keep my name out your mouth) You can do what you wanna do n***a But you gotta do a whole lot, when you f** with the Mob n***a It's a hard job, trying to work with us It's more than just rapping over here homie, it's some real sh** going on Ask my n***a Den, ask my n***a Pokey, ask D-1 motherf**er Ask my n***as, any one of my n***as they'll tell you, peace motherf**ers (and ah this year baby I'm the boss-boss So please get off my dick, and keep my name out your mouth) And keep my name out your mouth n***a, M-O-B style fo' life Boyz N Blue coming, be on the look out (*50 Cent*) This rap game, this rap game I ain't selling my soul, for this rap game And I ain't digging no hole, for this rap game Man I'm telling you, no it ain't happen-ayn This rap game, this rap game I ain't selling my soul, for this rap game And I ain't digging no hole, for this rap game This rap game, this rap game