Scream on Em lyrics

by

Chamillionaire


[Intro: Swizz Beatz]
Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!)
C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH!

[Verse 1: The Game]
Homey it's hard not to kill n*ggas; it's like a full time job
Not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill
Young California got that mass appeal
I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real
Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real
And all you n*ggas pus*y, need Massengil
See I'm the gun-c*cker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground
Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, My flow the antidote
Sick flow, it's so, motherf*ckin six-fo'
Your b*tch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz ho
Diss that, all you n*ggas get up off my di*k so
I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow
Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane
Every n*gga know Game, five shots no pain
And that's the reason why I'm sh*ttin on you n*ggas
Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you n*ggas

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherf*ckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!
[Verse 2: The Game]
Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up n*ggas lay down
Where skinny n*ggas make buff n*ggas victims of that trey-pound
And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops
Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks
West Coast n*ggas is back on the map
If only for now until the next time I body a track
From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack
Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap
I roll with the hardest n*ggas, make money with the smartest n*ggas
I ain't got time for you f*ckin artist n*ggas
Better shut your trap before you become a target n*gga
Y'all army brats I'm the motherf*ckin sargeant n*gga
Beauty pageant-ass n*ggas on the runway
+Boyz N The Hood+ 'til they see the n*gga in that red Hyundai
Blow his f*ckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse
Black Wall Street b*tch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what?

[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherf*ckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!

[Verse 3: The Game]
My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly
Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the sh*t cancer
One man show cause I f*cked all the dancers
Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer
These n*ggas let the rumors sit in they head like tumors
So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas
Clean... mean... rappin machine
Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans
I black out like February, back out what's necessary
Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary
I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin
No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin
Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin
Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin
They should build me an office up under the buildin
My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin n*gga
[Chorus: Swizz Beatz]
(ARRRRRRRRGH!)
This is that disrespectful, motherf*ckin West coast
Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go!

[Outro: Swizz Beatz]
We in the motherf*ckin buildin man
You ain't got your motherf*ckin mind right?
You gon' get your mind blown out your motherf*ckin mind right n*gga
It is what the f*ck it is man
How y'all wanna cut the cake?
You touch this you get your hands cut off, n*gga
Swizz Beatz the motherf*ckin monster
Game is in the motherf*ckin buildin
We could turn this whole motherf*ckin world red n*gga
b*tch!
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