The Game - Feelin It lyrics

Most of these rap n***as be fakin, i'm talkin the throng chases I diss em on any basis, throw patrons and steal my faces Stay running like jamaicans, the Marleys puffing the finest cheeba f**in the finest divas, if I have it, I'd like to meet cha Show you how I light the streets up, k** n***as that never speak up You my fans, sit in the stands and watch me rip these beats up Like a legend, feel my presence like the dead ones If I die, my only wish is my face on some Air-1s My soles curled, my baby mamas they drive sixes As for my b**hes, theres other rappers out there that's trickin My only mission was to sell a couple records Buy a bentley and drive reckless, a big medallion on my necklace I seen Daddy Kane and Rakim do it, so much respect kid Hip Hop is dead because you new n***as dont get the message I used to call names out, you n***as dont deserve it So lame out, die from these bullets outta Game's mouth Chorus My flow polished, I studied the legends Hip Hop scholar kick knowledge Get dollars, you got some work then holla Im on the block pitchin Most of us got riches, not trippin Work hydrolics and f** the hot b**hes Youngins dont stop wishin If you got a block then flip it Just because i'm blood dont mean my n***as should stop crippin We from the ghetto We came up without a pot to piss in We gettin money stayin blunted Cuz the clock is tickin You got a rock then pitch it You got a Glock then lift it Them G-unot t-shirts make them n***as stop snitchin Forever ballin' I'm Jim Jones With rims on that blue aston martin, interior like my skin tone Most of these rappers want me dead, sh** I been gone Too cla**ic, move rapid, my j**ish black kid The first 8 letters and everything that I stand for Colder than a New York block, shut the damn door Chorus n***as callin me back for an encore, like i'm eminem I disappear n***as like spinnin rims, who the f** want a war? Meet us at the corner store, call it the hot spot Where g**ners throw hot rocks The boys comin, so what, they pop cops Push them hot drops Hop out with them shirts on that say we got rocks High school dropout stayed to air the block out Stack paper like the old G's told us We only chirp on Nextels Dont talk on the Motorolas Gotta feel that, so kick back And scope up what im sayin Picture me parlaying Im flippin bricks while you eatin p**y You chicken sh** I f** b**hes on Natime I chow on Nadime Gettin head under the table Everybody stay calm