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lirik lagu game - bulletproof diaries

[intro: raekwon]
sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
uh-huh, yeah
sit my alligator jacket on the flo’
let that sh-t crawl around, what up game?
how are you my n-gg-?
let’s get this money, you heard?

[the game (raekwon) – verse 1]
money in zip duffle bags, shotgun sh-lls
my killas gorillas, n-gg-z couldn’t see ’em with gazelles
frontin’ -ss n-gg-z, go hang wit’ pharrell
tryin’ to be a cowboy, you catch bullets like terrell
owens, call it t.o., he leakin’ like a project sink
busted open like a hot dog link
bing, it gave me time to think yeah, i did my f-ckin’ prison thing
came out still on point, like the rza rings
i’m from compton but my inkpen live in queens
rep the dub like wu-tang, and i got killa bees (respect)
black wall mafia, new millennium genevieves
got a million dollars say lebron don’t win a ring (word?)
i know kobe, i be on the floor, kobe!
you know a n-gg- that can score 81? show me
i got a cuban link to a f-ckin’ o.g.
and n-gg- you’re too close, what the f-ck, you tryna blow me? (back up)
this the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
(iced out) where you be? (the strip club throwin’ ones)
where you from? (new york, where you from?) californ’
(big sharks) me too (swimmin’ in a pile of ones)

[interlude: raekwon]
yeah n-gg-, tomorrow man
goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs n-gg-
in the bronx

[raekwon (the game) – verse 2]
this the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
son where you be? (under palm trees stayin’ warm)
(who you be?) raekwon, who is you? (amaz-on)
i’ma keep it (compton) staten (till the day’s done)

[interlude: raekwon]
geah, frontin’ on us n-gg-, it’s like
it’s like racin’ a n-gg- in afghanistan to go get some oil n-gg-
you gon’ f-ck around and get your head burnt

[raekwon – verse 3]
i’m a new york dinosaur, staten island artifact
hip hop’s never dead, the cuban gave ’em heart attacks
sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the v’s
sneeze wrong, course i’m clappin’
keep it movin’ homeboy, the macs always actin’
spit in your face, go ‘head lil’ baby rappers

can’t f-ck with us convicts, stat-lands
it’s like actions, cliques’ll die right with traction
it’s wall street money and two gunnys
slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
blow your head off like lunch meat
chef in the game run the country
take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin’
f-ck wit’ they paper their gun squeezin’
off top, leak from the cop, them n-gg- jumped, this is front season

[interlude: raekwon]
yo, man yo game man
let these n-gg-z know man f’real man
we official man
they wan’ be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?

[the game (raekwon) – verse 4]
(yo what if i was from compton?) what if i was from staten?
i’d be king kong knockin down the buildings in manhattan
(gorilla warfare) shootouts, real block sh-t
westcoast -ss-ssin on some real 2pac sh-t
my style’s smokin’ like, after a glock spit
game get the blood money, f-ck b-tches and pop cris’
style like it’s new year’s, cause this a new year
look at the tracks, either bigfoot or the game been through here
the benjamins won’t stop, and neither would a chrome glock
i kill a fire-breathin’ dragon with a dome shot
come through your hood in a chevy malibu, on stocks
we had a meetin’ before we got here, and sh-t gon’ pop
heads gon’ roll, patron gon’ spill
fitted caps gettin’ peeled like the chrome on the wheels
got a half a mill’, say your wounds won’t heal
i declare war, n-gg- who gon’ deal?

[outro: raekwon]
yeah, y’all know what time it is man
“bulletproof diary” n-gg-, for real
many may read this man
a lot of n-gg-z might not make it home, you heard?
we speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
all them real general n-gg-z man
all them n-gg-z that’s out there man
don’t get no rest or none of that man, for real
the chef n-gg-, game whattup baby?
i love you, ya heard? superman lover over here for you baby
you know how we do it, we go all over the f-ckin world man
get a lot of bread man, word up, hun’ned my n-gg-
we take you to boca chica or some’n man, knahmsayin?
sip on some motherf-ckin, don julio or some’n, y’knahmsayin?
with two foul rings on, y’knahmsayin?
couple of mean guatemalians wit us
half guatemala, half somalian n-gg-
n-gg-z ain’t seen them colors man [fades out]

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