The Game

The Game - The Pledge

rate me

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

Yo...

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

Deebo

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

Flushing

Out the window

Hit the back gate

Tomorrow

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

Indirectly

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

OG

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

Ch-town

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

What?

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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