The Game

The Game - Invisible Felon

rate me


Yeah I be doing this shit when the fuck I want to, man

Spend all my time with my son. (Yeah)

Got a new baby on the way

A new son, two sons

Yeah, King Justice, Harlem Caron, that's who I do it for

Verse 1:

Nigga I lock the whole block up

Cedar block, what

You can't stop us, or drop us

Long nose snub in the drop, what

We real niggas

Compton blood runners and gunners

The red Raiders, been on hiatus

Made it back for the summer

Fuck rap! It ain't about that

Hip hop is dead you whack rappers put one in the head

Nas said it, he ain't regret it. I talked to him

Any nigga disagree run up on the passanger side and put a spark to him

Phoney ass rap niggas swear they gon' clap somethin'

Talking out the side of they mouth, with no gat frontin'

As long as I'm alive, this shit don't stop

We know who killed B.I.G. and Pac, he gon' drop


You niggas think you scare me nigga

You don't scare me, B

I'm from Compton motherfucker

Real life, real gangs, real shootouts motherfucker

I took them shots

I see you standing there

So what, bitch? Move!

Verse 2:

I'm the West Don,

The next one, to kick his fucking feet up

Puffing on chiefer,

Niggas give me the chills I pick the heat up

I'm scared of who, you? Fuck naw!

I let this shit blow, circle the block before I duck off

I stayed blunted, stay around pussy, stay lick it up

With the finest bitches, you niggas trickin'

I'm with the Bucks

Like Milwuakee I shoot 'em dead

Left hand like Michael Redd

Recycle the flow, come back, I'm dead Pres.

Too political

Guerilla on mass beats, leave your career in critical, condition

Destroy niggas my mission is to disposition,

All you faggots

I ain't beefing with one nigga, there's room for all you niggas in this casket

Get in!


Ol' homo ass niggas, B

Niggas straight fucking homos nigga

When you see me in the streets nigga, you don't say shit

Niggas don't be doing shit

Whole bunch of niggas man, loud noise makers

Fuck y'all!

Verse 3:

I stand over niggas with a gun

Let it hum

Your crew run, run, run

Your crew, run, run

I stand over niggas with a gun

Let it hum

Your crew run, run, run

Your crew, run, run

I fuck over niggas

Only give props, to them older niggas

Snoop, Cube, Rakim, KRS, the coldest niggas

Can't forget Nasty Nas, and that Hova nigga

Disrespectful tongue, yet they still, I owe them niggas

Pay hommage, spray llamas

Drive Bentleys roll through any hood

You don't believe me then ride with me

I pray on the soul, of any nigga that collide with me

He bust first, I shot back

The moral is you die with me


See nigga I don't really give a fuck about all that shit you be talking about on these punk ass records, nigga

First of all: you don't sell records, nigga

Second of all nigga: you ain't as handsome as me

Third of all: you ain't fucking as many bitches as I'm fucking

Fourth of all: You ain't got enough O.G. motherfucking homies backing you, nigga

Fifth of all: fuck, you!<br />

<br />

Thanks to Nano

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