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lirik lagu california – the game


(people trying)
[game:] tryna to do what?
(to find a way out)
[game:] oh, yeah! that was me in 2004
(love ain’t around)
[game:] ain’t never been around
(look at california)
[dj skee:] just like we back again
[game:] yeah
[skee:] fresh of that purp & patron
[game:] that’s right
[skee:] this is the hangover
[game:] every time you look at me…
[skee:] and i just landed back in. live from la
[game:] …you look at california
[skee:] i’m the world famous dj skee
[game:] i am the westside
[skee:] i told you i’m only dropping cl*ssics
reppin’ that westcoast. yo game, i don’t think they ready

palm trees, beautiful women
drop top phantom now this is living
started off chopping crack in my grandma kitchen
but y’all know that, so let’s get down to bidness
outta towners beware, of what you wear
“yo son, i’m from new york,” but we don’t care
the crips, the bloods, the esã©’s. the daytons, the dogs, the chevys
what you know about cali and everything i rate
n*gg* i make the dinner you be sure to scr*pe the plate
from compton’s most to n.w.a
from snoop dogg dr. dre, n*gg*s love us
what about the b*tches? you mean these b*tches bouncing in my back seat while my impala hit switches?
they riding with the king, a california king
if it ain’t about that it ain’t ’bout a motherf*cking thing
i’m living the american dream
sitting fat but i don’t sing
i don’t f*ck wit rats if you know what i mean
you thinking 50 but i am talking christina milian
sucked a million d*cks but still ain’t sold a million
b*tch trying to get a ride like a milian
i know you like, “what this gotta do in la?”
b*tch tried to f*ck me and she almost f*cked dre so…

yeah, slow this sh*t down man
i’ma let california f*ck you now
that’s right
yeah, how it feel?
y’know california n*gg*s
got big d*cks, big trucks, big mouths, big guns
we’ll f*ck you all night

straight rnb
black wall street records we don’t play no games
i mean after 4 hours we’ll f*ck you off on a n*gg*
i got the houses; here, miami
condo in new york, condo in wilshire
i done lived in beverly hills
look down the street at range rovers, bentleys and phantoms p*ssing by
as the wind blows through my motherf*cking, fades
n*gg*s know what it is wit me n*gg*
california king and that’s for life
don’t give a f*ck what a n*gg* say

let me introduce ya, to something you not used to
i’m california’s future
sit back watch what i do to
these dre beats, these timbaland tracks
i just blazed and my spit crack
i scott storch em we can’t afford em
every hot producer seen game record
my flow outta this word, like neptunes
california was dying, i came to the rescue
first time snoop dogg ever heard me spit
his reply was like, “d*mn, nephew”
that was ’05
and i was so eleven, four hours, six years i’m ahead of my time
i let you n*gg*s be lebron
even he can’t see kobe in his prime
picture kobe in lebrons
that’s too much game i’m outta my mind
and that’s a hot line
i think n*gg*s wanna hear me say that one more time
picture kobe in lebrons
that’s too much game i’m outta my mind
outta my soul
been having outta body experiences since i was 7 years old
look at california he ain’t scared
shot a deuce five ‘fore he had nike airs
my pops like, “there go the block”
i’m like, “where?”
br*ss knuckles in my levi’s never fight fair
20 years later i’m right here
red rag wiping off all white airs
let a n*gg* step on em. i’ma go wycleff on him
could go raekwon the chef on him
throwing up a dub, bangin’ wu-tang
riding with a chopper like a young hussein
in a new range
f*ck wit the crips but i’m from the p.i.r.u gang
momma i did it. you told me to so i spit it
i don’t just talk cali i live it
from aftermath to sit wit it i’m sick wit it
so n*gg* admit it
you’ll never be game
never be pac, never be doggy dogg
i don’t know why you spit cos n*gg* you ain’t sh*t
you writing for detox? n*gg* suck my d*ck
me and hittman, did that before
first mailman left then i seen the trap door
came in from the back
n*body could stop him
not eve, busta rhymes or rakeem
and bust my n*gg*, so i would never diss him
f*ck over any other rapper with henny in my system
who want it? not jigga
i’m treacherous like trigger
i’m naughty by nature n*gg* with more priors than richard
and i can say whatever cos i made jimmy iovine richer
and he get richer every time i call you a b*tch *ss n*gg*
let chris bosh run up on kobe again
i’ma catch him in the club and open his chin
cos i ride or die for this cali sh*t
break a n*gg* off proper like a valley b*tch
i chop a n*gg* down like a brick of raw
i’m notorious like biggy smalls
i know he from new york but he like me
last thing i wanna do ‘fore i d.i.e. is
look at, look at, look at california [repeats]…

i know new york the mecca of hip hop
a-town stay doing their thing
chi-town breed kanye and motherf*cking common
sometimes y’all gotta look at california
ay yo jimmy iovine, tell dre these headphones the sh*t

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