Da Game
The Lost Boyz, Mr. Cheeks, Freaky Tah
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Yo I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo Put on my thinkin' cap Don't know to rap about the niggas gettin' outta state trap Livin' dat, yo what's up black? Well its my third day home and not a cent to my name No jobs they claim I'm back in the drug game I need some money in a hurry I'm singin' my baby boy Troy he'll be two next February I'm in the crib with my man my nigga Van Dam An were thinkin' of an outta state plan peep it My man rolla doughs flyin' up on Friday He's buyin' a half an bouncin' back on the highway Now Friday comes moms is beefin' 'cause I'm cursin' She smells cheeb on me I'ma whole different person Well I guess I'm goin' ta cheat, she understood the chat Now call me when ya get there an' tell me where you at All right Ma, I checked out all my niggas then we jetted With fifty balls a piece brought a piece for unleaded Smokin' blunts forty ouncin', G and P bouncin' This is how we do, we is the Lost Boyz crew We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars Dreams in the head we gonna blow 46 balls a piece an each got an O In the trunk punk, we bouncin' to Jamaica Queens funk An' inside the blunt 121 skunk We're headed for the belly an' we're enterin' the mouth My niggas in the hat black an yo we headed south Now that don't look right but listen black we be aiight [Incomprehensible] Smokin' blunts by the boxes Ghetto champagne is chill Stop back the first bit boys for gas an a meal Now everybody's lookin' at the niggas from New York Field jackets on an they peep as we talk I say to pretty Lou well look a rolla doughs hat I want one of them shits by the time I gets back We got the gas ate a meal on the road once again Taliq's on the blunt G an' P's on the henn We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars Now we reached the destination 1 O' clock on the dot Went to check out the spot, it's right next to a lot We jumped out the car we got the whole town starin' At the New York City plates an the tough shit we wearin' I guess it all seems that we came to cause racket My niggas in the ack an each got a field jacket A week down the line we got shit on the ball Every single day we gettin' fresh in the mall Troopin' plus we got the car wash movin' We gettin' our connects from a Cuban named Rubin Hangin' outta state, po nine is a peasant Livin' in the park but in the park it ain't so present We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars We in the game, the bitches, the money
Struggling with Da Game? Become a better singer in 30 days with these videos!
Written by: DEXTER A ARCHER, SMEAD HUDMAN, AUSTIN JOHNSON, TERRANCE COCHEEKS KELLY
Lyrics © BEHIND THE ROPES ENTERTAINMENT, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Da Game Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 3 Jun 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/1568302/The+Lost+Boyz/Da+Game>.
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