CHILDREN OF THE CORN - Give Up The Game lyrics

rate me

Under passing the bridge

In my Yacht under looks my Mahogany crib

Models from Germany is serving me ribs

And shrimp scampi, give up this life, nah she can't be

Serious, she must be delirious

Weed in pals, rippin' aisles, sippin' Cristal

The kid is rich now, treating every girl like a sleaze

Puffin trees, overlooking the waves of the seas

Visualizing Gs, and M3s, and so much ice I could (Freeze)

Wait hold up (High), I gotta blow up (No doubt)

And get my dough up, the life of the stallions

Dining with Italians, discussing hundreds of thousands

Miles of poison that'll have zombies roaming your housing

Complex, my own mob sending me bomb threats

When I retaliate with convicts they set be all 'pet

Stress, I'm feeling depressed, puffing the sess'

Hoping success doesn't lead to an early rest

Feds knock down my door like it's a robbery

Subjecting me to give into bribery

Preaching it's no survive for me

Spies putting bombs in my whip

And it makes me wanna flip

But nah I ain't going legit

Give up the game

Give up the game

You gotta come legit

You gotta come legit, baby

Giving up the game

Giving up the game

You gotta come legit, no doubt, no douuuubt, no doubt

Yo, I'm a run hysterically

Until they bury me, count numerically

Hills of Beverly, with more Grands then Cherokee

Presidents like Eric B, and Rakim

This drug game, I'm top ten, locked in

Right now it's not an option

Cause I live fast and trife (The shit don't last for life!)

But right now, all this cash is nice

I know the tactics kid, you see what kinda mac this is

I ran through mattresses, hittin' models down to actresses

And other places blown my brain

I went from shooting that dope, to snorting that 'caine

The caviar, where they pourin' Champagne

With a dame, no shame, see I'm bouncing to my mountain

Front of my fountain, looking astounding

Stacking all these G's I'm counting

That's living lavish, am I right or wrong

Killa's like the Father Don, eating meals like Veal Parmesan

With linguini, fettuccini, chauffeured in my Lamborghini

Bitches see me, looking creamy in my Sergio Tacchini

Give up the game

Give up the game

You gotta come legit

You gotta come legit, baby

Giving up the game

Giving up the game

You gotta come legit, no doubt, no douuuubt, no doubt

So any beef kid here's the remedy

No Diggity, and if you ain't no kin to me

I tell you now, I bust off like Yosemite

Girls I got the knife game, I'm trife, lame

I slice brains, drinking Night Train

Cutie pie with the iced chain

I'm caught up in the succession

Of getting bucks in, and pulling ducketts

My times are harder than construction

Well it's the Willie with the bucks in the game

I think back to the days when my gang used to ride the trains

Snatching pocketbooks and chains

That's what played in my mind frame

To turn into the crazy scuffling and hustling type

All though I'm living the life

It seems like times is getting more trife

Yo, it must be the money

Rolling up a twenty, sniffin' coke

Thinking what it's like to be broke

Nah, I just couldn't see it

I can't choose a route that's scenic

Having cash is too convenient

Cars, gold bars, the whole nine yards

Give up the game

Give up the game

You gotta come legit

You gotta come legit, baby

Giving up the game

Giving up the game

You gotta come legit, no doubt, no douuuubt, no doubt