Jim Jones - That's the Way the Game Goes lyrics

[Hook:Future] Choppers on deck, yeah the choppers on deck More money, more problems, more s** More b**hes more cash, more b**hes more cash, that's all these young n***as gone get (turn up!) And we don't love these hoes, we don't love these hoes, we don't love these hoes (yeah yeah) We get fly everyday, get high everyday, that's the way the game goes That's the way the game goes, that's the way the game goes That's the way the game goes, that's the way the game goes, that's the way the game goes That's the way the game goes, that's the way the game goes, that's the way the game goes We don't love these hoes, we don't love these hoes, we don't love these hoes, these hoes That's the way the game goes [Verse 1: Jim Jones] I'm black and proud, with a big 4.5 and a pack of loud I stay gased up, my kick-door n***as stay masked up Had the drop head back but I hopped in bad had to pull a Mike Tyson off and crashed up Look too good and you come through the hood then a stupid motherf**er get his a** stopped Give me ten birds I'll wrap the town, n***a push up in the back and get 'em Graduated cla** cause all I need is math in the school of hard knocks, no cap & gown Riding around with Scooter, with my top down let them see the hooters Road k**ers you can get the shooters, eating dinner dinner Peter Lugers Riding dirty on Pete street, come by yourself when you meet me Make one call to my n***a young street you gone have them young k**ers with the street heat With the street heat, you gone have them young k**ers with the street heat Either that n***a or you see a black n***a riding by in Lamborghinis going beep beep [Hook: Future] [Verse 2: Young Scooter] Gotta sell this dope, Gotta off these bails, can't trust these n***as (naw) You trap with us I guarantee you'd see life different Them bricks you got ain't nothing to me n***a I done did it The hector stories the road runner trips I really live it My Cuban b**h she blessed me daddy got them chickens (Isabella), that's why I f** with Jimmy he a real street n***a I up my show money went and bought some pistols, jugg house full of white like everyday was Christmas Gotta count this money gotta check these plugs gotta wrap these chickens, if it ain't bout no money n***a I ain't with it I count on these beats and I know you feel it (Count Up!), black amigo young scooter real boss n***a [Hook: Future]