The Game - Cellphone ft. Dubb lyrics

[Verse 1: Game] I remember days on Crenshaw, take a n***a Beamer Hit the hood, take his rims off Then hit that block, let him hear that Pac That sh** don't stop Soo woo, new coupe, through the west side New Benz, top down, new rims, new b**h throwin' up P's, whoo whoop [Hook 1: Game] Compton n***as ain't never gon' be the same It's in my blood, you see my veins You see my tats, you feel my pain You in my hood? You from a gang You got 2 seconds to answer where you from, or you gon' see your brains Now that you slumped I see your change [Verse 2: Game] n***a we got can*ls, shelves, n***as that tried, n***as that died n***as that fell well, off in their jail cell sh**, we got n***as with full clips That dip through you set and disappear like "Hell, Well" No bail like the peace price Get caught up in the middle of the street at the light, you f**in' bean pie Middle of your forehead n***a, that's where your beam lie (You be ok) Cause I ain't seen God [Hook 2: Game] n***as sellin' crack, Dre sellin' headphones 2Pac in heaven, bumpin' Biggie "Dead Wrong" Cherry red Impala, Bible had rebon I just k**ed a n***a on my cellphone Puff sellin' vodka, weed got my head gone G-Man in heaven, name on that headstone LJ in prison, and my n***a Legs gone I just k**ed a n***a on my cellphone Stop that [Verse 3: DUBB] Playin' chronic, blazin' chronic with the windows tinted Cause hoes that don't cut the checks, the ones in yo' business Rappers sendin' d**h threats but still ain't sent no k**ers You take a stretch [?] squeeze myself, can't depend on n***as sh** on n***as check the urinal and you'll see That I be droppin' j**els and you should take 'em like a j**el thief Wolves teeth is what I use to eat my f**in' pray up with Used to make the yayo flip now Game told me to lay your hits Teamed up, toured the US just to let the name ring Goin' home to f** sh** up, I did the King James thing Steak and lobster with the gentleman, sit with a gangster posture Blowin' all these bands fans, screamin' like it's Frank Sinatra Made it out the South Bay village homies hate I prosper But I don't owe you n***as sh**, I'm supposed to thank my mama Only chase for commas, got 'em in now raise the Llama Hotter than a blazin' comet, f**in' south central moth [Hook 2] [Outro skit] The f**? Oh sh** Chop!... Chop! What!? This mother f**er's recording down him s**ing a wrong dick n***a You bullsh** n***a bring your mother f**in phone, I gotta get this sh** on the grim n***a, gotta get my followers up, I'm gonna blow the internet up with this mother f**er That b**h on WorldStar n***a Damn Push the door open n***a, watch out Oh the n***a bustin' on Waaaaaa! Nasty b**h b**h get the f** out of my house b**h Nasty b**h The dead n***a, the mother f**er wolf game head, b**h I dodn't even know Wolves could cum my n***a Lowkey Shawty got the best head ever