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hot wigga (remix) - a-game lyrics

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[verse: a-game]
a-g-a-m-e some hot wigga
and like my city, spit sh-t hot, wigga
let me bring it back though, ‘cuz i’m not wigga
play the beat to my own drum, can’t put me in a box, wigga
i know kung fu, so i don’t need to box, kidda
run up talking sh-t, i might just drop kick ’em
a-game ain’t trying to fight, he probably got some pot in ’em
and he get super high, so yeah he got a lot with ’em
everyday i wake up, and get cake
hustle hard, man i gotta get my sh-t straight
every beat i hop up on, i spit flames
that’s why these rappers looking at me like their sensei
like a write-up from my boss, a beat i rip it up
i show no pity for a coward, i don’t give a f-ck
suicide silence, r.i.p. the homie mitch-ll, bruh
still got your cd’s and them posters with your signatures
d-mn, i really miss them old days
things change, sh-t’ll come and go, but won’t stay
round my way, you’d make a k!lling in the dope game
speaking of green, you know i’m fiending for that romaine
everytime i rap, i’m on that stupid sh-t
i be hanging in the studio, no noose and sh-t
these b-tches <3 me like some f-ckin' chocolate mousse & sh-t but i don't show 'em love, i got a girl, you stupid b-tch mothaf-cka, i know i lash out hit up a stage and f-cking spaz like a crack child was rapping for a minute, then i quit it, but i'm back now y'all thought unchained was dope? man, that sh-t was half--ssed, pal got one more tape and then nsydious is droppin' next a-game murder musik, p.t.b. should sign 'em next b-tch, i'm so fly like f.g.e. one day, might cop a jet and i go hard boy, you'd think i waka flocka flex y'all can't f-ck with me like promise rings, honestly i'm a f-cking boss i got 'em all in shock with my improvement, it's your f-cking loss if you ain't rocking with it, or bobbing with it, get f-cking lost when you hear how i'm spitting, your common sense is that i'm a star i'm flyer than a pigeon, i'm sh-ttin' all on my compet-tion b-tch i'm going hard, and my flow is cold, so my bars are prison rappers is suspicious, they thinking a ghost writer with 'em they just won't admit i got that fire like ghost rider, pimpin' speaking of him, b-tch i'm a rap until i'm skull and bone these rappers say they spit that real sh-t, they just telling jokes they only in it for the women, money, cars, and clothes but just like stars, you g-ssed up, to me you hardly known no archaeologist, but sh-t i got a bone to pick with all these rack wappers, thinking that they dope & sh-t they b-ss ackwards, i'll f-ck 'em up like good dope & sh-t i r-o-f-l-m-a-o when they say that their flow is sick [outro: a-game] hahahaha! it's a-game mothaf-cka

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