f*cked Up lyrics

[Intro: The Game]
These n*ggas got me f*cked up (x5)
These n*ggas got me, I think
These n*ggas got me f*cked up

[Verse 1: The Game]
I be on the block with that chrome boy, Postin' up with my home boy
Leanin' on the 2 tone boy, What you want for them zones boy
10-5? 10-4, put it on the scale, add a little more
Take a shot of that 'tron boy, bag it up and then gone boy
They givin' quarters out, watch yourself on that phone boy
They gave me seventeen, his mama singing that song boy
We gettin' money baby, we gettin' cash money
Stuntin' like the Birdman, sittin' on my dash
120 on the dash, Forgiato on the wheeeeeels (on the wheels)
Paper stacking's too long boy, blowing Cheech and that Chong boy
Better watch that tone boy, headshots to that dome boy

[Chorus: The Game]
These n*ggas got me f*cked up (x5)
They got me, I think
These n*ggas got me f*cked up
Hold up, these b*tches got me f*cked up (x3)
I think these b*tches got me f*cked up

[Verse 2: Menace]
Think a n*gga trip the way I walk around
Gotta keep that pistol on my hip to lay them haters down
Gotta keep them b*tches on my di*k then I bring Game around
Paper stash gon' break em down, f*ck 'em hard don't make a sound
I'm all up in your trap boy, ride around with that pistol
Gotta keep the b*tch in my lap boy, hater n*ggas, come get ya
Made my n*ggas rab, my n*ggas clean, we do it, dare try to intervene
Thats suicide f*ckin' with my team, I'm blowing clouds and I'm 'bout the cream
Yeah, and I'm bout that sh*t, we for of chips, and I'm flossin' hoes
Y'all full of sh*t, not suckin' the O's, I'm too legit and I'm tippin' 4's
You n*ggas really want it, b*tches lookin' silly for it
Really kin the whip is foreign, n*ggas lookin' real important
[Chorus: The Game]
These n*ggas got me f*cked up (x5)
They got me, I think
These n*ggas got me f*cked up
Hold up, these b*tches got me f*cked up (x3)
I think these b*tches got me f*cked up

[Verse 3: The Game]
Say boy, ever had a b*tch all up in your crib
Stickin' that di*k all up in the ribs
Then she tell f*ck n*ggas where you live
And now they all up in your sh*t
Flippin' matresses over, turnin' couches sideways
They thinkin' crime pays
Got a choppa
For the n*ggas that don't understand how the f*ck we ope-
-rate and anyway get back on top of my paper chase
Kush burnin', slow dragon, 29's, been had 'em
n*ggas take shots, then runnin' high
We'll find their ass, Bin Ladin
Me and Mike in the Benz wagon, better watch your block boy
Purple clouds of that Pepé Le Pew, I'm gone of that Ciroc boy
Clipped up to that pop boy, holdin' on to that knot boy
Palms grippin' that Glock boy, we comin' back for them yachts boy

[Chorus: The Game]
These n*ggas got me f*cked up (x5)
They got me, I think
These n*ggas got me f*cked up
Hold up, these b*tches got me f*cked up (x3)
I think these b*tches got me f*cked up