Lyrics:
Yo
Your boy is an elitist
They sleepin' on your boy
Like they sleep on Tempur-Pedics
But yo I'm just a fetus
When it comes to this rap game
Gassin'
[Keith's rhyme]
Baby, can you feel my love?
I got my shorts on-
And I'm taking them off
Now when I saw your face I'm a believer
Hey what you got
Forget my pride shit I even quit my job
For the one that I love to work music
Recognised by my art that I spill in my game
Pour my heart on the track
'bout
Young blood, cuz cuz, game is to be sold
No pillow talking, real men don't freeload
They hustle, mouthpiece, enemies closer
Family first trust
Yeah, think you know me
I go by Ronnie motherfucking P
Think you know me
You gotta show me
Yeah, so you think you know me
But that was the old me
anyways, fuck it, what's been up? Man how's your daughter?
My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father
If I have a daughter, guess what I'm a call
my name is Ronnie
Haven't been myself lately
Why can't you face me
When you love someone and they don't love you
Don't waste your time
Don't
all my troubles
I'm in the middle of the party
Gettin' faded off the Ducé
Like, fuck what a hoe say
I ain't got the time for the games that you play
Oh
We out here killin' each other, but so what?
Keep it up and there's gon' be no Crips and no Bloods
Nigga, take a look around, the crack game has
up in a green tractor John Deer
Your bitch ass Is someone that we do not fear
Oh no
What's this
A big hoe
Grab the stick
We let It blow
Saint Nick
jeans
Nameplates and four finger rings
Jelly sandals for your feet
Mr. Softee made life sweet
How I long __
New Edition sang to me
Ronnie, Bobby,
show it off with my shoe game
I be on my shoe game, like what? Stay in your own lane
I be making moves before you came (Yo wait) I'm running my own race
and I, we're the kings of the game
And no one can touch us, we'll always remain
So if you see me hacking, just step aside
I'll fuck with your shit, take
[Intro: Irv Gotti: talking]
Man who gives a fuck nigga?
Who gives a fuck...
MURDER...
MURDER INC NIGGA!
How ya love dat, how ya love dat (what
shit is not debatable
Chopper wave at you
Your vest can't stop when I'm poppin' the K at you
No matter what God you're prayin' to, I'm not gon' play
And we could joke around
That's fine by me
Don't have to talk it out
Just tell me what you really feeling
Can you just tell me what you feeling
Don't want
hoes bold
Better watch your back
You know what I'm on
My time zone is different
Running lip and end up missing
Misses VU Meiji
I speak up
Your nigga
from above
And some people don't even really know what they doin', Goddamn
I mean, can you feel this, can you feel the vibe
Can you feel the zone?
The name of the game
It's not about money, not about fame
You are what you are
That's the name of the game
Hook your feelings up to a power
I come from the game (Holla)
Close encounter
Digital scale and money counter
On top of the kitchen counter
Right up under the cabinets by
The rice
They unnamed,
I’m unphased,
I be changing up the game.
I be changing up their ways,
They don’t know know what to say.
I be bringing up the phase,
If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?
I'ma name her Bonnie
I read about your uncle Ronnie too, I'm sorry
I had a friend kill himself over
back together and it won't be the same
What your aim is it to cause me more pain
Heartbreak suzie playing with my mind (mm) (mmm)
Heartbreak suzie
Had to catch my breath, watch my step
Playin' this game, you can holla at the ref
And call a timeout, before you put your dime out
Stop, pause,
Discuss these whats your game by ronnie milsap Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In