Ghostface k**ah - Game Recognize Game lyrics

[Intro: Ghostface k**ah] Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, what up? Yeah, you know how we do, uh-huh, what up [Ghostface k**ah] Yo, out of town, bound 95 Interstate When I had the Cherokee, first and flight plates Doing 80 all the way, no traffic, really had to hit the brakes Back then, your boy Tone, threw up a lotta weight Ran through a few homes, in and out of gates Buried a lot of bones with Jerry and Jerome In the backyard, that's how the bezel got the stones Politicking on the phone, with Cheryl and Sharone Telling me about how the kid move it wrong Got dope, pounds of haze, cars in the driveway She didn't have to say much for me to pick the time/date Then I'ma run up on 'em, and make 'em pay I was hungry, needed more greens on my plate I had a biscuit, and it always stuck to my waist Yo I'm out here, trying to get this Gwuap, open up shop, handle my business and game [Chorus: Ghostface k**ah] Game, you know you gotta put that work in and Just game, stack bread, dip on the feds, and Game, cuz we ain't trying to take no losses We gotta eat, and after every meal, we flossing Game, whether it's snow, sleet or rain Just game, no sleep, Nike, boots, cleets Just game, do what you do to get yards on 'em By any means, do your thing, never starve on [Napoleon] Broad daylight, the weed purple, D gray and yay white Youths runnin' round with AKs that don't spray right The block's hot, feds jumping out of back of U-Hauls Knockin' off backs of the eighths, like a cue ball The game's sour, it's how the trees make the game power During droughts, I replace c**aine with flour Take ya dough, call my man, in the same hour Minutes later, thirty things on the planes, coward No question, we smashing your price My dro sold out like the Pa**ion of Christ V.A.'s a gold mine, I'm seeing crooks cop Porsches Twenty thousand dollar ice jet, the rock's gorgeous My palm itching, cooking up in my mom's kitchen Nowadays, when time cuts, even don's snitching It's no need to come to me, with the con, listen If I don't get paid, they gon' find LeBron missing Alarm prison, turn in my forecast Even if I die and go to hell, I get more cash Than Satan, you don't like this, I know you hating So when you get murked for your blow, I'll be waiting [Chorus 2X]