120 Bars lyrics

by

The Game


[Intro: Sampling "Just A Touch" by 50 Cent]
Baby this is real sh*t
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k
My record sales slow, I'm a show you my di*k

[Verse: The Game]
Here the breakdown
No 400 bars yet, I don't need that
I'm gas, your whole click is ass, I mean that
G-Unot c*cksucker, better believe that
I say it one time, watch the whole world scream back
G-U-N-O-T, now that's for Billboard, rest in peace
And since my n*gga died, I been stressed, no sleep
Contemplating suicide in my Lexus jeep
I tried twice but I couldn't make my death complete
I guess you could say Mýa got the best of me
Came back from the dead to address the beef
Kiss my Converse, b*tch, and accept defeat
Cause I hate it when bullies try to test the weak
That's when I go Bishop in Juice and start flexin' heat
You could get it in the stomach just like Raheem
Cause runnin' with a snitch is not quite my thing
I tried to take Buck with me, but he stayed on the scene
Guess all I can do now is pray for Supreme
While I finish my next album, five million and countin'
Anticipating, tellin' the world I did it without him
If Aftermath was a family that didn't have a mother
I'd be Dre's newborn, you'd be the jealous older brother
Yea, daddy love us but in the meanwhile
You talkin' behind his back and in his face you smile
You moved out the house, you a failure now
And lil' Game grew up to be a problem child
I whip ya head boy, that's for Kanye West
I whip ya head boy, with the back of my tech
Yep, your f*ckin' group fell flat without me
You mad, what you gonna do, rap about me?
Your bars is park garbage, hooks is mediocre
And your new shoes look like Reebok pennyloafers
Try to walk in my shoes a block
Hurricanes in stores the day after Christmas, n*gga; f*ck Reeboks
You a steroid addict, you need detox
Hopefully you make it out in time to be on Detox
Cause Black Wall Street expandin', yeah I bought three blocks
My CL so smooth, it should've came with Pete Rock
And let's not forget who made me hot
It was Dr. Dre that took me out the weed spot
You want credit, forget it, I did it on my own
Gave you 300 bars, then said I'm gone
But I'm back, this is rap and a fact is a fact
They say once you turn snitch, you never go back
Here's a picture of Ja Rule, motherf*cker hold that
What goes around comes around, get used to the gold plaques
Homie got cheese, but he don't feed no rats
I show the world my di*k if Lloyd Banks go plat
I'm lyrically insane, Lloyd Banks know that
He told me I was like a Big Daddy Kane throwback
Started with one brick, built my own company
And don't spread news about it unless it come from me
Guess who's the boss, n*gga my squad deep
But Glasses Malone is not signed to Black Wall Street
n*gga don't, don't, don't, don't, don't believe the hype
Hear that Mike?
And don't be alarmed, this is not a diss
But misusing my logo kinda got me p*ssed
And I got enough beef, now Lil' Eazy dissin
He don't write his own raps, so I gotta forgive him
I got love for ya pops and I always will
So on behalf of Eric Wright: my n*gga, you gotta chill!
I'm the reason you new West Coast n*ggas got a deal
While I was doin mixtapes, they was watching College Hill
For real, you mothaf*ckas ain't got half my skill
I run this sh*t like OJ in pads for the bills
Trying so hard to be a gangsta, n*gga you seethrough
Posing like 50 on the cover of the GQ
Button up shirt with the cut off sleeves
I got twin Desert Eagles, n*gga suck on these
I got that CEO flow, yea my bars are sweet
Like Hova in Takeover, chewin' out Mobb Deep
Like Pac on Hit Em Up, chewin' out Mobb Deep
Don't one of you n*ggas got sickle? f*ck it, talk is cheap
When I see you, and I'm gonna see you
I'mma strip you down as*h*le naked and that's how I'mma leave you
Then I'mma find Havoc, make him walk through Queens nude
With Black Wall Street tattooed on his back
n*gga signed to G-Unit, now they bustin' guns
But last week it was: "My n*gga Game! What up, dun?"
See, that's what the f*ck I mean: you can't trust these rap n*ggas!
And you wonder why I always say "f*ck these rap n*ggas"?
So I'mma break it down for MC's and friends
If you don't hear your name, let the beef begin:
Ain't got sh*t against Hov, I like the n*gga's style
Nas is my n*gga, I been bangin' him for a while
I f*ck with Fat Joe, he got the streets locked
And that's the same reason I f*ck with Kiss and D-Block
Place Eminem in the number three spot
And Snoop is like my big brother, we both raised by the Doc
Young Jeezy you hot, we both new to this
While I'm in the ATL, shout out to Ludacris
Cause your uncle Scarface show me that crime pays
Just like Paul Wall got me sittin' sideways
And I can't forget about the homie Mike Jones
Who? Mike Jones, Skeet screw the f*ckin' song
I f*ck with Slim Thug and my n*gga Bun B
Can't do that without saying "Free Pimp C!"
And thats the reason why 50 try to pimp me
So I went window shoppin' and bought two Bentleys
I'm in the drivers seat, motherf*cker don't tempt me
Turnin' Spider Loc against me, cause you're scared to come get me
Cuz know whats up, Bloods still got love for 'em
Come to the block, I'll shake off the rug for 'em
As for G-unit, motherf*cker it's a wrap
Ma$e made it out alive, thank God for that
If Dipset don't get you, Jesse Jackson will
And if all else fails, I'll see you in hell
Wear that G-unit spinner when you come to L.A
I have a n*gga parkin' cars, dressed up like valet
He gonna turn back Pastor when the gun in his face
The real chain still in Chicago but I'm takin the fake
You can call who you want, I ain't givin back sh*t
Unless Olivia show the whole world she got a di*k
Can't sing to save her life, but she talk a lot of sh*t
And I want my ten G's cause Yayo caught a brick
I guess my G-Unot tattoo was a smart move
Cause in the end you lost a hundred mill to a cartoon
Three years after you got tatted by Cartoon
The beef is over, G-Unit gonna fall apart... soon!
[Outro]
Hahahahaha!
Faggot ass n*ggas!
I guess I win, n*gga
Life is a game of chess, n*gga:
Some kings, some queens
Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo, Young Buck, Pastor f*ckin' Ma$e:
You n*ggas is pawns!
50, or Boo Boo, or Curtis, or Chicken Little, hahaha
Stop Snitchin'–Stop Lyin' in stores December 6th
The DVD, it's a tell all motherf*ckers
Yeah, my doc*mentaries be better than your movies n*gga, hahaha
I drove by your house, n*gga!
Go buy the DVD; $16.99, n*gga
At your local record store, Blockbuster, Sam Goody, Warehouse
Shout out to the moms and pops, for helping me slay them faggots
G-gu-g-g-gu, G-gu-g-g-gu, G-gu-g-g-gu, G-Unot! Hahahaha
Pop off n*gga, hahahaha, pop off n*gga, pop off
It's me, The G-A-M-E, gone
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net