The Game - The Pledge Lyrics

From the top.

Back again mothafuckas. It's 3 Am in the mornin', like what? Niggas can't fuck with me man. West coast don. You know me. HA!

AW shit! You know what I'm bout to do this shit. Body this shit! Yeah, Blackwall Street niggas, the black Jim Hoffa, that's me.
Chec, chec, check

Ayo these rap niggas bore me
Flow dormant
So corny
That's why when I drop shit
They jump on it
Like dicks
They love it
Homo niggas
Choke when the game on the line
Dallas Cowboy Romo niggas
I got more bitches
More digits
07 I'm hitting more switches
Hip-hop broke, I'm gon fix
I been away for a minute
I was in Europe on tour
Now I'm back, bonjour,
The flow is so pure
I was baptized by the Doug E Fresh's
Lost my way and got reckless
Too much beefin'
Had me screwed up like Texas
So I had to take em back
To the '98 Lexus
Take the grill out for dinner
Chop the crack for breakfast
It's a million niggas like me
Red strings in they Nike's
So official
Some softer than Scott's tissue
That's light B
Deal with it
Carry the steel with it
If you hard peel with it
One dome shot if you real with it
I'm from Compton son
Aim at a target and I will hit it
Cocaine Game
Put red sauce on ya Bills fitted
So me in the streets
I'm probably holdin' some
Beverly Hills
Spending money like I'm Oprah's son
That's why the bitches feel me
And they baby daddy's wanna kill me
Run up on the Range
Fucking with Game
He gon bang
Picture ya bleedin'
All stretched out
Barely breathin'
Huffin' and wheezin'
As the Range Rover tires screechin'
I've been
Coached by the OGs
Chased by the police
You ain't never seen a nigga
Hit a fence like me
Catch me If you can
Leonardo DiCaprio
They say I'm not a real blood
The hood is backin' me though
Niggas like
White Boy
(Fog and Knot?)
Ask Big Dan if young Game
Jogged the block
Hog the rock
Sell it if it's hard or not
Before they call the cops
I rip apart the block
I'm in the bathroom
Out the window
Hit the back gate
Guess what?
I'm at the same corner hustlin
I done sold weed
Sold X
Sold crack
Never been snitched on
Cause I ain't ever ran with no rats
Never left ma grandma house
Without loading both straps
Never fumbled
Runnin' like Barry Sanders
Know that
I vow to hustle
Til there's no more crack
Got a young nigga to fold those packs
The black Jim Hoffa
Lemme introduce you to the show stopper
Mr. Lamborghini driver
Low-Pro copper
He is I
And I am he
We are one like the moon and the sun
I been around
Kid hustlin
With grown men around
Seen homies get shot
And watch bodies spin around
Ain't hardly from Marcy
But I gotta respect it
Got niggas there
And Mo-Town
I'm well-connected
Get your body dropped off
Any town I please
Let the trap snap on the rat
You'll die eating cheese
Get on your knees
Pray for Harry-O, Kenneth Supreme
I pledge allegiance to the hustlers
Keep livin' ya dream

Ayo Skee man, shit is too easy.
Ya know what I'm sayin?
We put out mixtapes when the fuck we feel like it.
Not when you want it, when the fuck we feel like it.
And I'm the CEO of mothafuckin' Blackwall Street Records, Blackwall Street Enterprises, Blackwall Street Porno's, Blackwall Street toilet tissue, Blackwall Street mothafuckin' car detailin', Blackwall Street car wash nigga, Blackwall Street socks, shoes, mothafuckin' ovens, kitchen appliances, I'm Blackwall Street's President, CEO, fuckin'... fuck it!


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