The Game Is Cold
Lyrics
It's me and Coleone at the pound on perk
Wanna hit the stripper spot
Maybe knock us some work it's been a minute
I'm in it still down to ride
98 Nav' with the screens inside
Hoes wanna roll, bitches know we go big
A car full of dope, nigga sittin' on six
Big like a gat, so now my mack stay low
With no DL so I bails from fifth-0
I'm hittin' corners, blocks
Driveways and alleys
Whitewall's and Rally's dippin' up
And down Cali
Might hit the spot, and wanna get down tough
A bag full of kush and a sack of the duff
You had enough? You know the staff
Was down to hurt her
The bitch was a groupie hoe
Just fucked C-Murder
And I'm a motherfucker dick
That's Platinum and Gold
It ain't my fault, that's what I was taught
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
Guess who's back in the motherfuckin' house
With a fat sack and a dick for your mouth
Nigga comin' back with hoes, money and clout
And tryin' to show y'all what
This shit is really about
Now, I can kick it with B
Or light up the heat
Or holler at P, turn up the beat
Bangin' the fo', the low-low that is
Or slang dodo or coco, fo' sho' that is
But I ain't even trippin' no more
I'm like the Six Million Dollar Man
Nigga in slow-mo
Go bro, take this shit as far as ya ever been
Shit I'm tryin' to go places
Ain't no nigga never been
But then, niggas steady tryin' to twist me
In the pen I got the whole Crip card with me
Come get me, y'all niggas know where I'm at
Ain't No Limit to this shit, just know that
Nigga know that, we show that
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game is cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
Up early in the mornin', dressed in black
I'm to the dope track to get the dope sack
Blowin', it's Mr bill Clinton of Vallejo
California with no warnin' shots
Just thought I'd warn ya
I used to campaign, sold D in the rain
Came Mother's Day, gave chickens away
Now where I stay, in the Yay, be on the under
Shit be like a jungle
Sometimes it make we wonder
By the summer, fuck a Hummer
I ball a 'Burban
If niggas don't get it together
It's curtains
I'm certain, we all hurtin', all want a piece
But if you fiddle with mine
I turn savage beast leave you creased nigga
Like you stole somethin'
People tell me "Legit, you's a cold somethin"
Fuck fightin' and frontin'
And bustin' over nothin'
That's how they fold, the game be cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game be cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game be cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game be cold
("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
The game be cold
Writer(s): BRANDT JONES, UNKNOWN WRITER
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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