Marco Polo - What Happened to the Game? lyrics

{*ad libs for the first 12 seconds*} [Rasco] Yeah, once again y'all Ha, it's the Soulfather Rasco, yeah Cali Agent #1, Dick Swan' back with it Uhh, 'bout to set the sh** off, check it Yeah Yo, hip-hop ain't never felt this good Got my back off the mat, set to bless the hood Yo, man I did it with the sweat off my back Spent six long years tryin to better the stacks The better the tracks, the better I can spit these rhymes When it's all said and done I can stick these dimes Yeah, I can hit these n***as from close range n***a we throw thangs, n***a we won't change We - keep the zone, to each his own On the top of the hill you can keep your thrown Listen - guns and steel'll stun you still While these cats stay fake I'm the one that's real Aiyyo I'm straight from the Bay ay, where these cats don't P-lay It's the home of the DJ They try to catch us on the replay, T-Bo We go to the top never be-low [Hook: repeat 2X] Aiyyo what happened to the game homey? Man these cats done changed on me, they still try to put the chains on me I bust loose, man I'm ready to fly Bust shots in the sky like I'm ready to die [Rasco] Aiyyo I came up from ze-ro, now my baby girl's he-ro I bet you cats never seen dough Been on the d-low, cause I will come re-po your sh** We rollin thick Deez flows is sick (ha) you need to call the MD Leave it up to Ras' to MC Even if your gla** is empty I pour your shots Then take you for the four you got Point guards never scored a lot, 'til I entered the game You want to win, gotta enter your name Dick Swan' still quick on the draw, I'm still spittin it raw I will still put dick in your jaw Man I had to bring it back to this, this is cla**ic sh** The type of sh** a n***a has to get Had to take it back to '98, there's no time to wait I still gotta put food on the plate [Hook] [Rasco] Aiyyo this is how it is (yeah) I came to handle my biz Do my thing so a brother can live Yo even if I got it to give I'm never holdin back Feel better when I'm foldin stacks Control the track, ain't another cold as that Like haters in the game tryin to hold us back We, break the chains, take your name Do hip-hop sh** go against the grain Twist and sprain, yellin but I missed your name Man ain't nuttin worse when they spit the same We, bring the real, swing for grills Tell the man up top he can bring the bills f** your deal~! We don't really need the sh** Just a brother in the game tryin to breathe and sh** Just gimme what's mine and things'll be fine Two-double-oh-five put it all on the line [Hook]