The Click - Get Chopped lyrics

Game must be focused upon Game If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin' (What you say) If you ain't got game you ain't got nathin' Game (Then spit it) [E-40] A n***a spent his last quadruple of cash Hopin' that the plane wouldn't crash Out smarted the task while teachin' they a** Bouts the other side of the gra** Uh, I spits the truth from the soil untold See 340 in ya pager, that's the code Hit me back cause you know he's busy off the hook Plus the hurricane ethyl got him too took Drug instaces, penitentiary chances Circumstances, gigantic a** live enhancements Keep on mashin' though, don't quit Game Related, comin' from the f**in' Click [D-Shot] Now that I made the major leagues Pushin' big ki's n***as from my block ain't tryin' to see me I came up too fast for them punks hoes Now them fools wants to kick in my door Bringin' over the change if you think that you can f** with this Bam, pops to the dome b**h Motherf**ers hate to see a true n***a flamboast Bringin' in more net than gross [Hook] They wants to kick in my spot Boom get chopped They want to take me for what I got Boom get chopped They wants to strike through my block Boom get chopped But I'm up on they plot Boom get chopped [E-40] b**h, feelin' evil like Knievel lookin' for a wrench Gotta a couple screws loose like the grinch Problem child ain't got no problem with disposin' Lose me temper, lose me cool but on the same token He ain't gon' bust a grip, man that n***a E-40 fakin' You failized I have ya whole family wear and taken Paper hatin' haters get put in they place Crevice achin' baggers get smacked in the face [D-Shot] n***as from the other side of town be talkin' big sh** Actin' like they want to f** with my click But the sh** ain't changed f** the rap game Hillside n***a on a mission to proclaim My motherf**in' spot in society Southside n***as just jealous, they doubt me Punk n***as lookin' for a reason Kick off a rucus to start the funk season [Hook] [D-Shot] I f**s with ya, ya b**h n***a get rich, fool don't you know this the click Be the hundred SL's what a n***a straight smash One hundred thousand in cash [E-40] Follow the leader Trip on how this thing gets deeper The more I teach 'em the dumber I get Dizzy-izzy, hey Shot these tardy n***as k** me But what they don't know is I fly cerebral cortex like a frisbee f** 'em and feed 'em Pistol whip they a** and bleed 'em Stuck 'em and read 'em Find out where they snooze and sleep 'em You pearl tongues need to stop workin' for the cops Rot-heads don't get no props, BEOTCH!