The Game - Scream on Em lyrics

[Intro : Swizz Beatz] Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!) C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH! [Verse 1 : The Game] Homey it's hard not to k** n***as; it's like a full time job Not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill Young California got that ma** appeal I summons the hood, they get up in yo' a** for real Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real And all you n***as p**y, need Ma**engil See I'm the gun-co*ker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, My flow the antidote Sick flow, it's so, motherf**in six-fo' Your b**h know, hop in the back when you see Swizz ho Diss that, all you n***as get up off my dick so I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane Every n***a know Game, five shots no pain And that's the reason why I'm sh**tin on you n***as Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you n***as [Hook: repeat 2X] (ARRRRRRRRGH!) This is that disrespectful, motherf**in West coast Hip-hop d**h blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go! [Verse 2 : The Game] Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up n***as lay down Where skinny n***as make buff n***as victims of that trey-pound And g**ners is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops Just knock his a** down and take the money out his tube socks West Coast n***as is back on the map If only for now until the next time I body a track From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap I roll with the hardest n***as, make money with the smartest n***as I ain't got time for you f**in artist n***as Better shut your trap before you become a target n***a Y'all army brats I'm the motherf**in sargeant n***a Beauty pageant-a** n***as on the runway +Boyz N The Hood+ 'til they see the n***a in that red Hyundai Blow his f**in back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse Black Wall Street b**h, the hip-hop crackhouse, what? [Hook] [Verse 3 : The Game] My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the sh** cancer One man show cause I f**ed all the dancers Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer These n***as let the rumors sit in they head like tumors So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas Clean... mean... rappin machine Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans I black out like February, back out what's necessary Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin They should build me an office up under the buildin My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin n***a [Hook] [Outro : Swizz Beatz] We in the motherf**in buildin man You ain't got your motherf**in mind right? You gon' get your mind blown out your motherf**in mind right n***a It is what the f** it is man How y'all wanna cut the cake? You touch this you get your hands cut off, n***a Swizz Beatz the motherf**in monster Game is in the motherf**in buildin We could turn this whole motherf**in world red n***a b**h!