Black Wall Street
The Game
Beach Boy
Charlie Baltimore (he wears a red bandana)
Rock star
We are the black gang
Free Shyne
Mother fuckers! (he wears a red bandana)
On the front of murder dog (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world know (he wears a)
Every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the N-Y-P-D (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the pirus know (he wears a)
Even my creep niggas know (he wears a red bandana)
Chea chea
Dear god let me clense my soul, throw away all the rims and the gold
O no I cant do that, do I love god? True dat, but I got a gun so move back
Im loco like 5 eses in the side of chevelle ridin on low pros
Im a renegade ride with the 44, been a gang banger all my life, f*ck the popo
I aint never been a cocky kid, know they could kill me if they shot pac and big
But I let my bandana hang, in the city of angles we gangbang
I move that chronic and yayo way before I met 50, banks, buck and yayo
Ask eminem, even dr. dre know, I put one in last ten in the range rove
Used to push that rock like jay hov, you better lay low when the A-K blow
Or get wings and a halo, run to the hood and tell em im the nigga they gotta pray for
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I said run to the hood and tell em im the nigga they gotta pray for, lay low and stay low
On the front of murder dog (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world knows (he wears a)
Every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the N-Y-P-D (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)
Chea chea
Im a gangbanger don’t get it fucked up you aint never bang, you aint never laces chucks up
So how the f*ck you gon criticize me, I aint the reason niggas is bangin the nyc
Makin bullshit threats on the m.i.c. I don’t wake up in cold sweats when I sleep
I live comfortably with a red rag tied around the 45 in case nigga try to come for me
Mad cause I started my own company I don’t know what the f*ck niggas want from me
Except something for free before the documentary dropped, you bitch niggas wasn’t bumpin me
And to some degree, I gotta keep that 4-5th under me, I don’t run from beef
It’s either cock back, squeeze, or be underneath, cause im from the streets of (compton)
And my grandmother died before I was multi, wasn’t raised right cause my parents was both high
High off cocaine, my introduction to the dope game came in 85 watchin soul train
Mama told me I was the future, and one day I’d be high like soul plane
Just don’t bang, but back then, I’d do anything for a Jerri-curl and a gold chain
Niggas always got something to say, like they aint never bumped N.W.A.
Punk niggas talk shit, but when they need hits they come runnin to Dre
Niggas come to LA when they need to talk, cause kanye told everybody Jesus walks
Bush killed more niggas in the towers then gangbanging ever did, that’s why they need new york
On the front of murder dog (he wears a)
On the cover of the source you see (he wears a red bandana)
The whole world knows (he wears a)
Every nigga in the hood know (he wears a red bandana)
50 told the nypd (he wears a)
Why you snitch on me and tell em that (he wears a red bandana)
All the pirus know (he wears a)
Even my crip niggas know (he wears a red bandana)
Yeah mother fuckers
Chuck Taylor
O you thought I forgot about that alias huh
Im going back to my roots
G-unit is dead
As a staff, a record label, and a mother fuckin group
Your clothes cant sell
Your shoes are straight garbage
Your movies suck!
Chicken little killed you nigga
Ha ha ha ha
How you like it nigga
I took yo style
I aint doin' no third verse
Imma just talk to you nigga
Like you do when you get mad at me cause
You cant f*ck with me lyrically mother fucker
You gun do one of those sing song little clucky poppy hooks
You like the rap Lindsey Lohan you fuckin faggot
Write 8 bars about me nigga
I do this shit all day 50
Curtis Jackson
Boo boo
Marcus snitch
Black wall street c. e. o. mother fuckas
Hurricanes in stores December 26th
Stop snitchin stop lyin the DVD in stores December 6th
It’s a tell all nigga
Wait till my movie come out
Im glad it aint based on my life
With that knock off 8 mile shit
You could never be Eminem mother fucker
You aint lyrically inclined enough to be jay-z, NAS, b.i.g. or PAC
And in the modern day…today, tomorrow, next week
You cant f*ck with the game nigga
Out
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