Stock in the Game lyrics

[Freddie Foxxx]
Yeah, uh-huh, you ready?
It's Bumpy Knuckles baby, we tear this mothaf*cker down!
Welcome to the underground where hardcore n*ggas are found
We're beatin n*ggas down, make you world-reknown
Where street beef set off once, never forgiven
Where real n*ggas never give up, we fugitivin
That's how we be livin, where n*ggas vibe on the raw sh*t
Come out, your face f*cked up and get your jaw split
n*gga, we pick your teeth up and put em on a string like bones
And send your punk ass home alone
I got stock in this microphone you innuendos
I get you beat the f*ck up and played like Nintendo
Maybe smoke like the hydro endo, you n*ggas is hookers
I hit you wit the four pound tuckers
Have you ever seen a rap stampede?
Well bring em underground, and I'll run em down
You know my reputation, my voice over disco beats is violation
New York walk, New York talk
And when I blow you n*ggas dime, I use my own chalk
So watch what the f*ck you say and what you do
For real, n*ggas bring it to you and your whole crew
Bring in baby, you ready?

[Hook]
I got stock in this game
Got a bad reputation for bringin the Glock to the game
You know my name
So if you ever come across me wrong
Just remember the words to this song
I be hearin mad MC's, I study your rhymes
And I noticed that you n*ggas is just wastin time
I don't take it to wack n*ggas, they self-destruct
I take it to nice n*ggas and f*ck THEM UP!
So the fact that you be shinin makes it even better for me
That just leaves more cheddar for me
I keep it blacker than Cadillacs in '69
Total eclispe your record and stole your shine
Sixteen bars of homemade moonshine rhyme
And I still had you mothaf*ckers payin me mine
Wassup, watch me snatch a hundred grand on you n*ggas
No tax while you loudmouth braggin-ass n*ggas fake jacks
Yeah I'm nice wit my mothaf*ckin hands
And I bust my heats, Freddie Foxxx celebrity box out the beats
My flow is so cold
Start a rainy day snowin, my voice fertilize your thoughts to start growin
It's Bumpy Knuckles and raw n*ggas incorporated
The real n*ggas love it, the fake n*ggas hate it
You mothaf*ckers ready for this? Check it out

Chorus 2x

I go one two three four five, I make it live
Simple-ass sh*t like that be soundin wack
But when I spit the lyrical terror that makes n*ggas hide they jewels
Wild n*ggas start c*ckin they tools
I got my ethics from the older school, if you wack then I spit it
Something to steal, I come get it
If Freddie Foxxx want beef, n*ggas ain't wit it
Some n*ggas wanna try my style but can't fit it
I be hearin n*ggas that sound like me
But ain't never ever really put it down like me
Plus them n*ggas ain't really underground like me
Street reputation, love town-to-town like me
You b*tch-ass mothaf*ckers I squared off in the mainstream
World, actin like a mothaf*ckin girls
I wet you like a jheri curl and you'll explode like uranium
The only thing you'll have to fall back on is your cranium
You soft n*ggas could never be iller
Than the holemaker, holefiller
Bumpy Knucks keep it realer, the bloodspiller
Don't f*ck wit a mothaf*ckin killer, TURN IT UP!
Chorus 2x
*on second time, last line is "THEN ALL YOU MOTHAf*ckERS'LL BE GONE"*

[Outro]
Now check it out
All you motherf*ckers better know, baby
It's Bumpy Knuckles, and I never die
If half you n*ggas was real as you say you was
We wouldn't have had no wars between the coasts
n*ggas is b*tches
Cause when they did it to us, we never did it to them
So I do it to every motherf*cking body, baby
The lone soldier, Bumpy Knuckles, motherf*cker
Watch your back, n*gga
Kill me