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f the source - the game lyrics

intro:
(the game:)
till you stop f*cking asking me man

(malice:)
malice

the game:
i’m from g*unit

(malice:)
h*town k!lla cali
(the game:)
for the 15th f*cking time

(malice:)
apt.3 and dna entertainment, so bang it and we gettin in
your motherf*cking tank sack

(the game:)
f*ck dave mays

(malice:)
f*ck b.e.t. mtv 106 & park all these pac inmatators all the
radio stations

(the game:)
f*ck the source

(malice:)
the bullsh*t magazines f*ck the mainstream benzino, chris, i’ll clothe his ass
f*ck jake hemenum

[games verse 1]
n*gga you ain’t a gangsta stop frontin b*tch
‘fo i’ll pull that 4.5 and blaze your 6
you might catch me in oak*town with an amazing b*tch
her boyfriend star point guard for the new york knicks
homie that’s star*bury i sit her down flip her round d*ck her down and roll a purple haze in the strawberry
switcher sweet you my pumpkin, give a tricker treat i’ll do anything for a b*tch accept l!ck her peach
one more thing i never take a b*tch to eat
you gotta pay for your own meal but the d*ck is free
i love my chain you can’t get sh*t from me i almost died in 2001 that’s “black history”
you can’t understand that then the pistol speak
i g*ngb*ng and shoot rocks like pistol pete
you see them cops on my block then wistel g, slash l.w.o.p
yeah they can’t stop ya possibly
they can’t yell g*unit
they can’t rock the watch
they can’t drive that new vanquish and drop the top
they can’t sign with dre, and come back to the block
(chorus 2x)
give it up for the westside we been
grindin for years, sober here on these streets
only spit with magazines they fed jumped open up
and exposed our life they tryna hold us down but
it’s in our blood to fight

(malice)
throw your motherf*cking w’s to the sky
f*ck these tators

[malice verse 2]
y’all got fat while we starvin sh*t talk and sash out your classic
cars that’s ours it’s not the first new york, had to start strip walk
man these toys ain’t for children silly us slangin you don’t be seeing us on stage like your
boy’s in da buildin
f*ckin radio these f*g raps i can’t stand the sound get blazed with the auto mac turn that
bandana around before you cause somethin to happen please stop f*ckin rappin on pac’s
sh*t i got sick with nas , in “thugz mansion” dave ruined the classic song and so did cam’ ron ja rule too
this midget needs a booth and the booth is stanarsh just to reach the mics finish
albums sabatizing the source of course, benzino bleeding someone get this man a tampon
“rayray” i stave may’s for a race he told him tighten up your braids and quit
actin so g*yish this sh*t funny you not even smart enough for verses you big dummy
you sound like giant r*t*rded person

(chorus 2x)
(deep voice background)
boo!! benzino and the source
hoo

(malice laughing background)

[malice verse 3]
attacking “eminem” it coulda been the worse mistake you ever made
ex*fans you’re like a dad to them you taught them they should never hate
while the rest didn’t hate it i spectated never expected the source jail issue
with no ex*rated upon his magazine be the streets, lets talk statistics
if “big” was the best i guess “pac” never existed, have y’all been sick
as non*civilence nonscious got affended while she cop block’s rock when
“lox smith” ripped it it’s today of mystery you don’t give two f*cks i see tho r.i.p
for mister c hip*nanna crip nut i tore up double “xxl” all my “xl” with a bomb
threat cause i got units left to sell and y’all even put me on (didn’t it?”)
i been exposed to show treck’s “benzino” need’s his face broken this too
murder*r issues need to get thrown away just for sellin*out, sorry this is how i
feel about the f*ckin situation occupation time to spill it out this ain’t casino
“ray*benzino” got no mafia set you bout connected as your neckless when they sn*tch it off your neck, “apt.3/dna” f*ck “mtv” play these punk’s ‘ll get jumped rollin, showin back to f*ckin “vma.”

(chorus 2x)

[outro]
(malice talking)
la la if you hear this i’m not mad at you i just want to put it
in your b*tt
everybody seem so happy they one trl family i’m not so happy
i’m broke and i know i got at least half a talent as some of these motherf*ckers and making millions of dollars how come we ain’t making million’s of dollars how come, we’re f*ckin starvin wow
i wish i had a big magazine to back me up without my money so i could put out all these
bullsh*t albums do street credit billity off of like benzino f*ggot what you
got against white people aren’t you half white got me thinkin d*mn i need
to look at my own raps see if i write to say the “n” word

[the game talking]
the n*gga said he was sorry man
he didn’t mean to call ’em black b*tches see it’s
only bout 15 man godd*mn man, let a n*gga eat man
this n*gga “benzino” done made it his motherf*ckin, everyday
life to try to k!ll this n*gga “eminem” man leave us the f*ck alone, n*gga “g*unit” aftermath, shady, blackwall street, interscope
b*tch!!

(malice talking)
ha ha
game, malice
redo
that’s how we do
and i’m out f*ck y’all
2005
quit drinking haterade motherf*ckers
ah

- the game lyrics

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