The Game - Neighborhood Supa Starz lyrics

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The Game - Neighborhood Supa Starz lyrics

(feat. JT the Bigga Figga) [The Game] You can catch five, or catch me in the CL-5 Whatever way dog, the Game get live Keepin it gangsta in a P.D. city velour Late night I'm in Dublin's and I got myself a four The hood love me, hoodrats gotta hug me Pop ex, spark the buba, the sh** get ugly Rock the mic anywhere, and I ain't talkin 'bout a concert dog Talkin 'bout ten n***az in Converse dog Get it crackin like we out in the yard, and the warden's watchin Only difference is the who*es is watchin Still love to see a n***a, roll up on 20's Hop in that six-four, roll up on Bentley's like I'm a gangsta bay-bee, from the C-P-T Run with the (Pound) like I'm from DPG If it's beef, you C-Murder like it ain't No Limit And I represent the P like Russell Simmons [Chorus: repeat 2X] I'm a neighborhood superstar, get it, right Got it? Good, okay It's the Black Sox and Get Low we get dough In the Yay they pimp hoes, in Compton we six-fo' [JT the Bigga Figga] I know ya, love to watch me, 'specially when I'm lookin rocky The trey with the broccoli with my handles on the Kawasaki Handle my j**els with the cuff in my shoes AD jacket on my elbow, 50 coast the j**els In my neighborhood I'm Young Bill Gates, never shuffle the cake So cover my face, and run up in the place I'm a superstar, dick and my chain, gla** bezel and bang 80 karats on my pinky and rang Crews buzz when you speakin my name, cause I'm deep in the game With top cool thangs and million dollar planes I'm a maniac, young boy gone, like a young Roy Jones You ought of my zone and ain't nobody home In my neighborhood, produce stars, stakes is high Now we soarin through the spacious skies Drop yo' body with them cakes and ride, the handle is up Switchin gears with the pedal and ride [Chorus] [The Game] I'm a shining star And I gotta hit the boulevard in that new Jaguar Why he move through traffic like that, purple haze Ralways, the Ojays, the gangsta lean so Please believe that I keep two G's in my jeans Two gats in my sleeve, two rats in my Beam' X-5, mami let's ride Weave in and out of traffic from Compton to Bed-Stuy It's the kid from the far West I, oh, sh** He know how to do more than flip pies Get money like them stick up guys Them "Ocean 11" licks got the young kid rich for life And I talkin 'bout a movie or George Clooney I'm talkin 'bout, runnin in your spots with uzis tucked in the Coogi Dude me? Naw truly, might lose your lives They say I've, got 2K2 covered like A.I. [Chorus] [JT] Yeah mayne, I told y'all mayne Fillmoe California n***a where we launch the best n***a JT the Bigga Figga, San Quinn, D-Moe the Yungsta, Seff the Gaffla Introducin the Game n***a the first n***a I went and got outside of the Fillmoe district Y'knahmtalkinbout? Yeah mayne And we gon' pa** him on off to Aftermath Records mayne So they can take him to the T-O-P Y'knahmtalkinbout Dr. Dre and the whole Aftermath staff, y'knahmtalkinbout? But this album right here, this a Get Low, JT the Bigga Figga production My n***a Charlie-O on the beat, y'knahmtalkinbout? And we keepin it real thuggish mayne, Bay Area style n***a Black Wall Street, now let's get MONEY!