Kobe - Cats and Dogs lyrics

[Hook: Kobe] Not what your feeling b**h You gon' learn to shut your mouth Cause we gone eat now now, now now f** your feelings b**h Just go hop your a** in here And hold this sh** round Hold this sh** down Come move them things for me Across town, town And make sure they touchdown Just makin' it in town And make sure they touchdown, touchdown [Verse 1: Game] Uhuh, I need a gangster b**h n***a I ain't lyin', Im talkin' when I f** She scream you hear sirens No domestic violence Just domestic diamonds So let me ice you out So when you slidin' down the pole Doin' your Magic City thing Your neck and wrist glow Im dreamin', she ain't a stripper, she a cla**y girl Goin' off that Patron, she my nasty girl First name, Rachael, last name Jones You related to Nas, girl, Queens my second home You know, Prince Akeem coming with a Semmi and we can tear it up Weekend in Cannes, then we coming to America She wears those Jimmy Choos but she love that Gucci, never been to ATL But she love that Gucci, Brrr She taught me how to cook Cajun And I taught her how to cook crack And I chopped it on her back Now tell me where they do that [Hook] [Verse 2: Game] I put her on a Greyhound She know she better stay down Ride or die like my Bentley Man this b**h will never break down She my bustin' baby, you should see her bust a tre pound Love Roc-A-Fella so much, she won't even call me Jay now She roll my weed man, like she my weed man Then we get high, play Tiger Woods on that Wii, damn Love is for a season, haters 365 And the game Cats and Dogs, keep your b**h by your side Got a hardtop Lambo, when the rain start to pour Not the rain outside, talkin the rain indoors Her girlfriend told her, that I was creepin with a stripper Told her I was courtside, watchin' the wack a** Clippers b**h please, I'm a Laker fan and Kobe that's my n***a Keep my gra** cut so I can see when the snake slith her sh**, came out of no where like Khloe and Lamar Kind of got a n***a thinkin' maybe I'm [Hook] [Verse 3: Game] I let her drive the Range on our first date She the first one to put me on that Drake mixtape I just wanna be successful baby Take you out them Hudson jeans and re-dress you baby We can walk down Rodeo, turn around, you on Melrose Fly to New York in the winter and try on some Timbos Or we can hit South Beach, f** with Ross and Timbo The world is cherry pie, and we can slice it up like Kimbo You cook the rock, I break it down I wrap it up, you weigh them pounds I make the call, you start the car We can drive it out of town Im your n***a right? And you my b**h (Yeah) Even if they lock me up, she gon' get them bricks there When we get tired, we hit the truck stop and sit there Unzip my 501's and she gon' put her lips there The memoirs of a perfect b**h You gotta hold them down even if its [Hook]