The Game - Red Bandana lyrics

not! *echoing* blackwall street the game beach boy charli baltimore (he wears a red bandana) rockstar we are the black gang free shye mother f**ers! (he wears a red bandana) [chorus] on the front of murder dog (he wears a) on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) the whole world know (he wears a) every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the nypd (he wears a) why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana) all the pirus know (he wears a) even my crip n***as know (he wears a red bandana) [verse 1] chea chea dear god let me clense my soul/ throw away all the rims and the gold/ o no I cant do that/ do I love god? True dat/ but I got a gun so move back/ im loco like 5 eses in the side of chevelle ridin on low pros/ im a renegade ride with the 44/ been a g**ner all my life, f** the popo/ I aint never been a co*ky kid/ know they could k** me if they shot pac and big/ but I let my bandana hang/ in the city of angles we g**n/ I move that chronic and yayo/ way before I met 50, banks, buck and yayo/ ask eminem, even dr. dre know/ I put one in last ten in the range rov/ used to push that rock like jay hov/ you better lay low when the ak blow/ or get wings and a halo/ run to the hood and tell em im the n***a they gotta pray for/ yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah/ I said run to the hood and tell em im the n***a they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low [chorus] on the front of murder dog (he wears a) on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) the whole world knows (he wears a) every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the nypd (he wears a) why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana) all the pirus know (he wears a) even my crip n***as know (he wears a red bandana) [verse 2] chea chea im a g**ner don so how the f** you gon criticize me/ I aint the reason n***as is bangin the nyc/ makin bullsh** threats on the m.i.c./ I don I live comfortably/ with a red rag tied around the 45 in case n***a try to come for me/ mad cause I started my own company/ I don except something for free/ before the documentary dropped, you b**h n***as wasn and to some degree/ I gotta keep that 4-5th under me/ I don it and my grandmother died before I was multi/ wasn high off c**aine, my introduction to the dope game came in 85 watchin soul train/ mama told me I was the future, and one day I'll be fly like soul plane/ just don n***as always got something to say/ like they aint never bumped n.w.a./ punk n***as talk sh**, but when they need hits they swallow their f**ing pride and come runnin to dre/ n***as come to LA when they need to talk/ cause kanye told everybody jesus walks/ bush k**ed more n***as in the towers then g**ning ever did, that [chorus] on the front of murder dog (he wears a) on the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana) the whole world knows (he wears a) every n***a in the hood know (he wears a red bandana) 50 told the nypd (he wears a) why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana) all the pirus know (he wears a) even my crip n***as know (he wears a red bandana) [outro] yeah mother f**ers chuck taylor o you thought I forgot about that alias huh im going back to my roots g-unit is dead as a staff, a record label, and a mother f**in group your clothes cant sell your shoes are straight garbage your movies s**! chicken little k**ed you n***a hahahaha *echos* how you like it n***a I took yo style I aint doin no third verse imma just talk to you n***a like you do when you get mad at me cause you cant f** with me lyrically mother f**er!!! you gon do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks you like the rap linsey lohan you f**in f*ggot write 8 bars about me n***a I do this sh** all day 50! curtis jackson boo boo marcus black wall street c. e. o. mother f**as! hurricanes in stores december 26th stop snitchin stop lyin the dvd in stores december 6th it wait till my movie come out im glad it aint based on my life with that knock off 8 mile sh** you could never be eminem mother f**er you aint lyrically inclined enough to be jay-z, nas, b.i.g. or pac and in the modern day you cant f** with the game n***a! out