The Game x Ray Vaughn - 87 Cutlass Posted by RAP OU CRĒVE 02 SEP 2024, 11:39 Share this : Share this: 139 Share this : Share this: Subscribe to RAP OU CRĒVE Share this : Share this: 0 LYRICS Verse 1: The GameWhen I exit the 110 at Compton I start cocking shitHalloween ain't shit when you stuck at the light with a Compton CripNiggas don't make it outMy grandma Lilly named me GameBut these two AK's ain't nothing to play aboutI had a jumper and hoop dreams, but I couldn't wait it outWrote weed on my scholarship letters and took the paper routeCrips know where I stay every other dayHad to spray it outCompton sheriffs hit the CribI'm hiding in the neighbor's houseMoms kicked me out, had to move all my shit to David houseHis moms told me pull my own weight, here, weigh it outThat water boil, take it outProfessor clumps in that mason jarLook like I'm having a sеizure when I shake it outIn thе trap trying to focusWriting raps on the sofaThought the house was tappedCause I can see antennas on the roachesNiggas can't tell me nothing about being poorExtendos on the phone cordPull that bitch from the kitchen to the front doorSeen one bullet, put a nigga underSeen a nigga survive a whole clip with staples from his ear to his stomachMy uncle got stabbed, fucked up a whole summerMy sister got shot in the assMy nigga, she wasn't runningMy life ain't a movie, It's a series on PrimeI told Juan, feed me my own dick if I ever drop a dimeIf niggas owe me and still ain't pay me, it's never mineIt's like a rollie on the ground, I ain't tripping over timeI ain't tripping on 50, all that shit I left behindAin't tripping on Interscope for that slave deal that I signedI gave 'em five albums, it was nineIn the contract, told Berman, drop me or this fucking nine getting cocked backBeen independent for ten summersIt's like Ella MaI and MustardBig ass riding with me in his HummerWish my nigga Vail could see me nowHow you make it out of Compton and get murdered out of townChorus: Ray VaughnThey caught the homie slippingIt ain't show him no remorseSo I walk around with that fire, like I'm carrying a torchBeen known to get it jumping since I hopped up off the porchPocket full of dead prezzies and a closet full of corpses (Hey)Being broke, the only thing I looked at as a threatTrials and tribulations, real and fake can never meshOnly dotted line to have a sign was on the checkI gotta keep it on me, I got million dollar fleshI got the game planI got million dollar views behind these Ray-BansThey bought seats, but I'm someone that they can't standI'm so, how about these clouds that I can't landSo please don't pray for me (Yeah)And if I die before I wakeJust save that space for meBut please don't pray for meVerse 2: The GameI 'don fucked a celebrity bitch for every dead homie I gotFlipped the truck off CirocThat shit worse than getting shotAin't die, get a DUIMy guardian angel, PacHe probably up there telling God, if Chuck die the world stopNot even a 20 year old Iron Mike Tyson punching my clockGot Meek on a song after this, and he used to be my oppBut he called me on his first day out and we spoke about a lotHe said he love LA and with my blessings he gon' buy a spotI told him cop it by the beach, 'cause in the summer it get hotIf they can kill B.I.G., they can kill us like they did to nigga PacDon't trust niggas in my own state, cock it backPlayed a rear view a few times before I open up my own gateIf I don't make it home safeI told my oldest son put C4 on that home safeAnd spin it at your own paceI'm 42, another 42That's gon' be home baseI'm in this shit for life, eyes are brightI beat my own caseNo matter which way the camera rotateI choose my own fatePut the mask upI ain't got COVID, I show my whole faceDrown all my demons and ask them how this Patron tastePat me down at the club, and you gone feel that shit is on wasteIt's on soon as Soulja Boy tell him to look the wrong way50 round drums, slugs click in like a phone caseI put that on DreAin't nobody gon' push meI ain't scared of no nigga that was a baby when he came put the pussyI bang, and I ain't never said I was T. Rogers or TookieBut I shoot up a library before I let the feds book meAnd this goes for every nigga trapping from Columbia to BrooklynPut a brick in that boy faceThe cartel can watch him cook itDig my daddy out the graveAsk that nigga where he took himCleveland National ForestI hit targets without lookingSo if I ever run in the pool, nigga I'ma finish the jobHe did 25 for taking them Barclays and killing RobChorus: Ray VaughnThey caught the homie slippingIt ain't show him no remorseSo I walk around with that fire, like I'm carrying a torchBeen known to get it jumping since I hopped up off the porchPocket full of dead prezzies and a closet full of corpses (Hey)Being broke, the only thing I looked at as a threatTrials and tribulations, real and fake can never meshOnly dotted line to have a sign was on the checkI gotta keep it on me, I got million dollar fleshI got the game planI got million dollar views behind these Ray-BansThey bought seats, but I'm someone that they can't standI'm so, how about these clouds that I can't landSo please don't pray for me (Yeah)And if I die before I wakeJust save that space for meBut please don't pray for meNo, no, no Back to: Videos Clips