Games

[Featuring Roc City O] Hook: Games people play (I want to know) Games people play (why the brothers be playin' them games) Verse 1: Here comes the man of the hour Never catch me fuckin' with cowards Rock men from Thug Life to High Powered Blazin' trees Chinese chicks to Lebanize Across seas me and Big Frank be pickin' up keys seize the opportunity to freeze MCs Recognize who be gettin' that cheese please I see you watchin' me like Whitenour You gettin' power Chickens gassin' you thinkin' your clique is as big as ours Long time no beef on the streets Ain't nothing sweet I still walk around packin' heat You pose no threat you get yourself soakin' wet Vibes from the mac and the tech And what we be doin' chumps uptown we call them push ups Pushed about a thousand grills shit is real (yeah) I leave no evidence cat's ain't been heard from ever since And officer, those ain't my fingerprints Down low I'm scary slide to the back of this City-O cash flow is miraculous Mark what I say somebodys got to pay My clique walk around sick like Doc Holiday Hook (x2) Niggas got a lot of games Verse 2: A-yo blaze something quick So recognize who ya fuckin' with I'm gettin' bricks runnin' with Colombians While you punk motherfuckers starve on a block I'm drivin' around spots gettin' mad props Fuck standin' on the ave gettin' cash (what?) That's all in the past I graduated fromt he class (yeah) Every thug get a chance to be the man I got mines and now this nigga's pissin' in they pants (ha ha) They scared to death they know it's real here I murder niggas if not I have them rollin' in a wheel chair I dare a nigga to step up i bet his t-shirt his sweater Have holes from my nine beretta I'm not the one for the postin' up shit I toast you up quick I have you floatin' in the ocean I get down like that cause I have to in the Big Apple Many niggas try to cap you, for nothin' Niggas be frontin' for fame they don't know the game All they want to do is leave blood stains That's why I keep my gat cocked and steady Like Teddy I keep it on my waistline ready I'm deadly like Freddie Kruger but fuck the claws I'm strickly steppin' to ya niggas with the ruegers "I need my shit kid" that be rapidly repeated The more shots the more my enemy starts retreatin' So back the fuck up I'm blowin' niggas out the frame Maintain before you get a bullet in your brain I'm that insain nigga from the Money Makin' All you niggas fakin' I'm a leave your body shakin' Hook The streets ain't no game Rock City will let 'em know Verse 3: Now yo fuck the radio and fuck the airplay I'm strickly underground sayin' what I want to say It doesn't matter if I'm hurt or not I'm a wreck shop my way and still get props That's my word shit is gettin' real with these critics They always talk about a nigga lyrics I ain't tryin't to hear it Everyday the industry is gettin' realer Sort of like that crack shit being done by the dealer Brothers gettin' paid under the table Labels already knowin' who they want to be stable But fuck it I'm still gonna try to bring the ruckus I'm comin' through your town Ill Man with the Cutlass I saw a lot of niggas fail oh well They mad cause I'm everlasting like a Duracell Battery don't try to battle me My mentality is gettin' salaries is all reality Hook