The Game - Wow lyrics

Published

0 245 0

The Game - Wow lyrics

[Verse 1: Game] My car, my b**h n***a, everything major My n***as they shoot like Indiana Pacers Indiana Hoosiers don't get marked by the laser Wet your f**ing team up, meaning hollows will bathe ya Red phantom pink slip, everything paid for Black 24's lips fatter than Fantasia's Had a b**h from Asia, put her up on the chronic And her name Soo Woo, isn't it ironic? My bars Grey Goose and tonic, and when I vomit Respect me like Mohamed, but n***a I'm not Islamic All about my profit, angel in the co*kpit Devil in the rearview, heaven's the only option Angel on the hood like Reverend Run's crooks Today I'm feeling good riding in his holy ghost Hate me like I'm God's son, wanna see me deceased? Break the 6th commandment if you run up on this Jesus piece [Hook: Gucci Mane] Wow My whip like wow, my wrist like chick like neck iced out My rims like wow, I'm smoking right now You cry and say ow, cause my gun go pow [Verse 2: Gucci Mane] Balling, like Amar'e I'm not an athlete but it's a track meet I'm on a great run, the world love me Some love to hate me, it's all gravy I'm so icy, so punch your brakes n***a Ice cream on my face, it ain't your face n***a I'm on my grind constant, yeah my grind constant While you cross counties, we cross continents Yellow diamonds on my wrist it's looking like a omelette I'm not a bumpkin, my trap bunkin' I got onions, squares for you Powerful goons, prepared for you So what the move blood, I'm tattood up I'm a straight thug, I keep a coke plug So what the move blood, I'm tattood up I'm a straight thug, I keep a coke plug [Hook] [Verse 3: Game] Game, Gucci, we onto something major Chains, coochie, light it up like Vegas Down goes Frasier, my shooters like Peja And we keep that Lupe run when you see them lasers We be them trailblazers smoking kush from Malaysia Still trapping, like back then, now iPhones is pagers Click clackin, what's happening .45 at you haters Keep yapping, I'm clapping, T.I. know we takers n***a, I don't give a damn, them sixes sitting ceiling fans Get your boss on your phone cause we don't f** with middle men Hit your boss at your home f**ing with my little man Where I'm from it's off with your dome for just a kilogram Gucci they talking about that tat up on your face Must of forgotten them boys you shot n***a murder was the case This summer is ours ain't a motherf**er safe And in the fall, I'm puttin' 5 mill in a f**ing safe like [Hook]