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name of the game by donald d - rhyme syndicate lyrics

[intro: chilly d.]
yo, my name is d.j. chilly d
my man donald d and bronx style bob are gonna tell y’all what time it is
yo, d, tell the people the name of the game

[first verse: donald d.]
the mic is my gun, the trigger i’ll pull it (pull it)
lyrics shoot out of my mouth like bullets
bronx, new york, my stomping ground
the radio lets d be heard around
gangster chronicle
read all the articles
on the streets, you’re bigger than a molecule
rappers are sweatin’
‘cause people are bettin’
10 to 1 that you’ll be steppin’ to the left (left)
that’s how i’ll play you
d cannot pay you
yes, then i’ll slay you
i’m a rebel, outlaw, i’m a gangster
the beat is dope, it’s heavy like a anchor
rhyme syndicate, it’s out of control
on a roll, play the po, you’ll lose your soul
no smilin’, just all out wilin’
sit back, relax, max money is pilin’ (pilin’)
[refrain: chilly d.]
d, d, chil* chilly (chilly, chilly)
d, chilly (chilly, chil* chil* chilly)
chil* chil* chil* chilly d

[second verse: donald d.]
1988, another one dies
blown up to bits before civilian eyes
death on my doorstep, agents in my face
i’m reachin’ for my uzi in my violin case
constructions, i own ‘em
loans, i loan ‘em
forget to pay me back
contracts, i condone ‘em
hurtin’ is a business, and pain’s my name
and kickin’ buckets is a part of the ga* ga* game
crimes are forever, to robbin, no never
avoidin’ the feds, the family’s too clever
writin’ out blueprints, layin’ rules
got my gucci bag, imma get paid too
in planes i’m cruisin’
passport always usin’
suckers think i lie, about time for the bruisin’…
…to start. i’m in my limousine, smoking out the city
born and raised, bo diddley bo diddley
[refrain: chilly d.]
d, d, chil* chilly (chilly, chilly)
d, chilly (chilly, chil* chil* chilly)
chil* chil* chil* chilly d

[third verse: donald d.]
rappers, playing opposed to me is gross
not only on the east but on the west coast
the girl is hawkin’ when i’m walkin’
the stage isn’t ready for my rap*talkin’
i’m a desperado, in my eldorado
with a girl who’s a model, yeah i hit the lotto
takin’ no shorts, i can’t be caught
at another airport. the ticket you brought
to see rhyme syndicate [?] guard
like mike tyson, yo d, we hit hard (hard)
god say, give power to the people
you think i’m lethal? watchin’ the sequel
why is the president on my line?
he knows what time it is
he’s praising my rhymes
bum rush the side of ya town in my vehicle
bass to the max, your dancin to the lyricals (lyricals)

[refrain: chilly d.]
d, d, chil* chilly (chilly, chilly)
d, chilly (chilly, chil* chil* chilly)
chil* chil* chil* chilly d
[fourth verse: donald d.]
i gamble in nevada
they call me bobby vega
lost my temper one time, cold stops, schwarzenegger
walking in my pinstripes, brim on my dome
luger in my ankle, true name unknown (unknown)
born to be another homicide on the rock
to die like a trooper getting blown up on the block
kidnap the senator, he’s on my side
but i think i have to take another judge for a ride
walk with a bo diddley not worth my while
that’s for the pimps brothers, they’ve got style (style)
colombian neckties, do ‘em every day
we’ll plead for the fifth then i’m on my way (way)
walkin’ down the boulevard, i’m strutting like a god
with my head in the air and my hand on my rod (rod)
i’ll make you an offer that you can’t refuse
like a kiss on the lips or leather concrete shoes
family meetings consist of vice and is
donald d and whizz are conducting biz
smokin’ my stogie, cleanin’ my gun
syndicate posse got suckers on the run

[instrumental break]

[fifth verse: donald d.]
imma gangster boogie, courts can’t abuse me
people try to shoot me? i dive behind my floozy
she takes the dum*dums cause she’s the dummy
i can’t afford to die, man. i gotta make money!
lawyers, i employ them. feds, i annoy them
hoes, i enjoy them. witnesses, destroy them
prisons, i escape ‘em. cops, i rape them
heart attacks, i fake them. casinos, i take them
women, i beat them. other gods, i meet them
judges, i eat them. prosecutors, i defeat them
got power, gettin’ richer by the hour
suckers try to hit me? i must devour
ambitious, bullets ready to shoot
yo don, that reporter
yeah, i’ll k!ll ‘em! (k!ll ‘em, k!ll ‘em)

[outro: unknown, ft. ice t.]
donald d’s rhymin’ and chilly d’s cuttin’
party people, listen
like e i’m huntin’, stop scopin’ and hopin’
that you’ll get the info: fast or slow
i can go at any tempo
on stage and arranged like jack the ripper
you can never label us as ego*trippers
we’ll bully, breakin’ those who stand in our path
and ya face will need a major skin graft
yo, you know what i’m saying?
you try’in to front on a microphone keyed to my man bronx style bob
is you crazy? (unintelligible chatter)
(shoot the boy, man. shoot the boy, man. shoot the boy, man.)
don’t you know what i’m saying?
yo, yo, tell those skeezers to back up
you know what i’m saying? before these suckers try to fight new york…
yo, yo, look there goes ice t!
yo, step up baby
nfg(?) robinson is in the house
africa is a long rock on
rhyme syndicate is in full effect
ho!
nyc in the place

- rhyme syndicate lyrics

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