Lyrics:

[Chorus 2X: The Game]

Real gangstas stand up, hold they dick

Bitch niggaz sit down to piss - what type of nigga is you?

I'm the type to pack a gat or few

Pull out and pop, simply cause I'm mad at you



[The Game]

Y'all niggaz see me when I'm come through; and ain't no denyin

that them big motherfuckers is twenty-five

Swayin in and out of white line, six double-oh

Deuce zeroes, I'm feelin like the streets is mine

Mines hustle, mucho dinero, heat's confined

See more fall guys than Foreman/Ali combined

If there's beef, I'm releasin mine

And I won't stop bustin 'til them Escalade seats recline

The kid roll with a greasy nine, come through and blast

I return shots like Arthur Ashe

You do the math, ten shots, ten dead bodies

Fuck bein sorry, it ain't nuttin but a gangsta party

And I'll make sure ain't a nigga survivin

Shoot up the ambulance, make sure it ain't a nigga there to revive him

And the Game ain't tryin to win, fuck the awards

So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong nigga



[Chorus]



[The Game]

Trust me dog, ain't shit you can put in your rap

that'll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that's that

Niggaz thinkin I retired my Chuck, put the gun back in the holsters

Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster

But that don't stop the heater from bangin, or me comin through

Droppin all y'all niggaz with three in the chamber

Keep two mac-10's when I'm rollin, one in the changer

One when I push the button's right next to the cupholder

Dog we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game

Let's say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain

Ain't gotta look over my shoulder, I'm good with the aim

Good with the handle and the bullet's good with the bloodstains

And the coroner's real good with that pickup

A1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up

Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time

Put you niggaz next to each other how I do 'em in line



[Chorus]



[The Game]

Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home

If beef cook then I'm bringin the chrome

If I die then I'm leavin a clone; but if I live

through the drama one mo' time then them boys gotta dig

When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big

When I'm rhymin on the road, I listen to Jig

Bump Nas off that purple, sittin on the block

And when I'm loadin up them clips, I listen to 'Pac

A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo' guns

than F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S got jerseys

And you might get 'em all in the face when shit get thick

Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey

And ain't nuttin to do a driveby in the hood

We ain't even got survival, but I'ma still take that ride

Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it

Think this shit a joke? Bet the S-5 pink on it



[Chorus]