C-BO - Deadly Game lyrics

rate me

You know I never was no choir boy

Ya folks got a, gang of priors

Maybe that's why the one-time's be triflin

Tryin to give a young nigga thirty-five to life

When I ain't even done nothin wrong, off-icer

I have no in-fo to offer-ya

He asked my name, so I came off the brain

Told him, "I'm John Doe and this is my hoe Jane"

He said, "Smart mouth nigga, don't make me do ya"

Put my thumbprint in his high tech computer

My name came back with a warrant, felo-nies

Now they got me down-town, spread my anus

Buttock, I'm like, "What the FUCK is it now?"

He said, "You robbed a liquor store; we know where, when and how"

It's foul, they got a nigga to' up from the, flo' up

My mom, in the courtroom lookin like she bout to throw up

It's a strong armed robbery, strapped in the commision

at my pre-trial conference, D.A. had a proposition

He said if I lose at trial I'd get the ? with the L on top

but take the deal he'd give me five with havin most of the charges dropped

Hopped on the deal quicker than blast, and said

"I admit that, but two and a half ain't bad I got getback"

They sentenced me to five, two I gotta bring

It's only strike one swing, batta batta swing

[Chorus:]

It's one-eight-seven on the D.A., cause they

ain't tryin to give a young motherfucker no leeway

Yes yes... y'all

One-eight-seven on the whole courtroom, motherfuck em all

You better swing, batta batta swing

Cause once you get your third felony, your fifty years you gotta bring

It's a deadly game of baseball

So when they try to pull you over

1 - shoot em in the face y'all

2 - shoot em in his face y'all

3 - take em on a chase y'all

Fresh out the pen, unrehabili-tated

Doin hella good, and my P.O. hates it

Hates Dick, she's a dyke lesbian bitch

Can't wait to violate for me for some petty ass shit

I gotta get a job, so I'm fillin out applications

Fightin the temptation, to slang nightshift, uhh

Minimum wage don't get it, five bucks a hour

don't cut it, man I ain't widdit

So fuck it, I went and struck it rich, on the dope sack

My homie gave me two, and told me to bring a fo' back

Now it's time for me to start havin thangs

I flips me a Coupe and painted it candy-apple green

It gleams, clear coat sprayed on thickly

Fools out to get me cause my shit is lookin sticky

I'm at the club and I can feel them suckers scopin

I'm knowin they plottin on me, but I'm still hopin

that they won't fry me, unless they wanna die

They will be, drippin more blood, than Mrs. Simpson was

Sho' nuff, ain't no bluff, here them suckers come

Got me reachin up under the panel to handle the forty-four caliber gun, uhh

Spun his ass around with one of the fat Magnum rounds

Got him on the ground makin funny sounds, ohh

I got a problem, witnesses ten

Positive identifa-cation

[Chorus]

On swoll in the pen, cellmates with X-Raided

Now I'm on parole, five years later

The Bo loc is ready to have me a ball

Fuck my P.O., I'm goin AWOL

And you all can suck this dick, I'm sick

and tired of goin through all this bitch-made shit

I got two strikes right now as we speak, and peep

I'm not bout to let you motherfuckers do, me

I'm petty with a prior, will buy your fate

With Wilson in the office, you gets no date

So I'm putting all my belongings on Greyhound bus #22

Bound to another state, me and my crew

Unpacked my shit, stacked my grip

California and Pete Wilson can suck my dick!

And if you didn't already know, that you couldn't

trust his ass, just look how he did Polly Klass

Used her death, and her family's name

so he can yank more votes, and political fame

It's a shame, that I'm the one they say is a monster

Juvenile delinquent, steppin out of sync with

but FUCK THAT, I ain't goin out, like a punk

That ain't my style, rip him from his asscrack

to hit nutsacks now, they wanna kill a nigga

like me I blast one blast two that's strike three

[Chorus]