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fucked-n-da game - dj squeeky lyrics

[verse 1: criminal manne]
ridin’ in the chevy thang, cruisin’ by the skatin’ rink
cheesin’ on them gold thangs, scopin’, it’s the criminal manne
constantly ballin’, lookin’ for a bailed up busta
stick ’em up, lay back down, shut ’em up, shut ’em up, mothaf*cka
pulled over to the side, nothin’ but lames, splurgin’ cash
thought to myself, for a minute and came to my senses, i gotta get his ass
jumped out of the car, straight to his ride, sn*tched open the door
put that tec to his face and said
“ball on off, ho”
ballin’, i’m losin’ my mind, i’m kinda paranoid
steady lookin’ around with a frown, tryna dodge the blue boys
stopped at the gas station, put that b*tch in the trunk
now, i’m ’bout my hog k!llin’, ballin’, time to stang this punk
ridin’, gettin’ high, smokin’ weed, now it’s after dark
by ballin’, scowlin’, scratchin’ rubber, jet to the nearеst park
pulled that b*tch out the back, smacked him, buckеd him, hit him in his face
n*gga, where the money, where the dope gone?
trick ass n*gga, don’t make me catch a case
ho ass boy, don’t try to test my pimpin’
i got a family to feed, i’ma need some, n*gga, let’s just handle business
trick, if i were you, i would try to test my nuts
’cause a player like myself, in the game just f*cked up

[chorus: buckshot & criminal manne]
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese
[verse 2: criminal manne]
back in my hood, up to no good, standin’ on the track
b*tches beepin’, hoes freakin’, instead, i just smoke a sack
once again, i got my ass in, ’cause i had to stang that boy
’cause when i took the trick’s cheese, i was singin’
(“ship ahoy, ship ahoy, ship ahoy”)
fist full of bricks in my hand, i’m the mane
with the yam, god d*mn, i’m insane to the game
looked around, what do i see? is it a bird, is it a bee?
aw, mane (1, 2, 3, 4) 5*0, they comin’ for me
copper minute, what should i do?
grab my pistol, wanna start shootin’
jet through the cut, ballin’ around and like a junky on them drugs, fool
hit the alley down the valley, i hid behind a pine tree
coppers mad as f*ck, they turn up sh*t, ’cause they can’t find me
jet to the chevy, pounds of sweat comin’ from my face
a cop, f*cked up and seen me, now i’m ballin’, put ’em on a highspeed chase
doin’ a dash, that’s my ass, if they catch me, i’ma be hanged
hit the gas, real fast, [?], screamin’ tires, really, now they got a playa mad
left them b*tches in the wind (i’ma holla at you friend)
so catch up with yo kind, trick, ’cause my pimpin’, i don’t think it’s thin
made it to my crib, chill, layin’ in my blow, mane
every single day, just the same sh*t, a player f*cked in this game

[chorus: buckshot & criminal manne]
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese
[verse 3: dj zirk]
k!llers, k!llers, orange mound n*ggas
strapped with them thangs, it’s all in the game
these n*ggas on the run, so n*gga, grip yo tone
it’s time to get it on, it’s time to get it on
these n*ggas know the mound too mothaf*ckin’ thick
i’m ready to go to war on these busta ass b*tches
n*gga, while you sleep, a n*gga’s on the creep
n*gga, lay it down, shootin’ round after round
so back up off this sh*t, a n*gga packin’ ’em thangs
a n*gga feelin’ strange, a n*gga just insane
n*ggas, watch yo back, i’m strapped with that glock
grip and slip the mask, it’s time to hit the block
lock em’ in my trunk, drag him to the river
leave his body cold, no remorse for this n*gga
ballin’ down park, creepin’ after dark
orange mounds n*ggas, k!llers from the park
i’m real about this sh*t, i’m down about my cl!ck
i’m all about my hog, i fin to stang a b*tch
my n*ggas in the hood robbin’ n*ggas, makin’ stangs
a n*gga packin’ them thangs, a n*ggas swingin’ them thangs
straight off the block, n*ggas sellin’ rocks
mothaf*ck the cops, they ass gettin’ popped
livin’ in the city, in memphis, tennessee, mane
but still you just don’t hear me, i’m f*cked in this game
[chorus: buckshot & criminal manne]
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
b*tches goin’ hoin’, blowin’, mane, i’m gone f*ck a ho
playaz like me in the game just f*cked up
blunts in the air, i don’t care, ’cause i need some cheese

[verse 4: thugsta & criminal manne]
if i remember, hmm, it was on a wednesday afternoon
i was chillin’, smokin’ and drinkin’ with my n*gga dre in the hotel room
just got sucked and f*cked by a couple of binghampton freaks
kicked them hoes to the curb, can’t be with no b*tch when you tryna make some cheese
cruisin’ down the interstate, he suggestin’ we hit down town
(on lover’s lane) where the pretty boys hang
(with them hoes) ridin’ clean
hit the jackson exit, stopped at sheldon, use the telephone
called my n*gga criminal, told him the tale, d*mn it, hold on
(what’s up, dog?)
constantly gettin’ beeped by this silly ass b*tch that i don’t talk ’bout sh*t (told you hoes)
if it don’t make dollars, then it don’t make sense
now back to what i was sayin’, you got ya
(gat strapped like a mack, 2 clips of hollow tips
and a yawk full of scr*p, mane, let’s ride, black)
aight, black, hop back in the ride, fried up a blunt
drink punch, this b*tch too stale
ballin’ down watkins, turned on valentine, here the folks, springdale
to the pool, [?] and me, mad maine, criminal, mr. ink
lynch was in the back, chiefin’, choppin’ up a swisher sweet
so we switch cars, me and dre jumped in my roadie’s jeep
ballin’, smokin’ and chokin’ on some hay, on the business creep
made it to our destination, scopin’ out this love couple
(they didn’t know)
tryna be romantic, get they ass in trouble
jumped out quick put my tone to his b*tch
“don’t turn around, trick, empty your pockets
and gimme ya cash before you be like the last b*tch”
left ’em in the sand, holdin’ hands, made our get away clean
(down [?], the cash hang)
mmh, mmh, you know what i mean

- dj squeeky lyrics

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