The Game - Don't Cha lyrics

Published

0 406 0

The Game - Don't Cha lyrics

[Intro: Rockstar Dior] Yea, uh (hype hype hype), Uh (New jersey devil) (Black wall put ya mutherfucin hands up) Cicero, rockstar, carry-D whatever you choose.. makes me no difference Yea (try to move) Let get into it (feel us) Uh, slam, Uh, check it, uh [Verse 1: Rockstar Dior] Yea, yo, what he do? n***as don't know how I move only roll with the crew Rollin' up the trees, loadin' up the tools n***as get a little outta line, gettin blown let her choose, uh Yea brads on my dick, heard that I spit with the game Signed with the black wall street got some glitz in my chain Got some chips in my pocket, with a clip that I bang Use to have hit the steet for the change, now sh** changed I can hit the strip in the range Yea I hit the switch in the range That'a make it bounce (bounce bounce) n***as better get it corrected don't disrespect it I do chat sh** when I check sh** Drive by loaded window down when I wet sh** So n***as gotta cool out before I gotta move out, yea And y'all dont wanna piss me off 'cause I might have'ta get the fifth's involved Trigger balled in front of that No I do more where your stomach at Y'all booz dont want none of that [Chorus] X2 Dont cha wish g-unit was black wall street Dont cha wish g-unit was black wall street ..Dont cha.. Dont cha.. Ye when the rig, carnartion or fig, ye when they come to the shows, girl's undid they clothes, n***as playin with the kid, they wanna stay under control, but they wanna see me wavin a stick,....dig a grave for ya, aim for head, some ma mans may'aim for ya kid, knock at the door, when they in and up, let the trigger buss, wake the babysitter up while he playin at the crib Thats what im'bout treat like cats from the south, when they blow caps in they mouth,plus am back in around,and im back in they mouth, blow a mack to astound, then im clappin em down, think I got beef wit the cats from the town, n***a this business sum after the crown, laugh at the clowns, they dont think am tied to the streets, raised off fire an the beats, back block in the kitchen with the black pot, counter-clockwise zip it up fiends can't get enough, pour hard now jus tryna get ma figures up, now for neva, guess who n***a what, che, and y'all dont wanna piss me off, coz I mite have to get the fifth's involved, trigger balled in front of that, no I do more wer ur stomach at, y'all booz dont want none of that (chorus)