The Game feat. Sean T Gutta Boyz Lyrics

West Coast Resurrection Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Intro
  • 2 The Streetz of Compton
  • 3 Blacksox
  • 4 Krush Groove
  • 5 Troublesome
  • 6 Rookie Card
  • 7 Promised Land
  • 8 Gutta Boyz
  • 9 Put It in the Air
  • 10 Desperados
  • 11 100 Barz and Gunnin
  • 12 Work Hard
  • 13 Untold Story
  • 14 Outro
  • [Intro]
    (We gangsta daddy!)

    [Verse 1: Sean T]
    I'm sippin on that 'notiq the color of Hulk man
    And the blueberry smoke got a nigga twerkin
    You niggas is perkin - so you doin it big?
    You roll deep but when I see you it's just you and your kids
    I roll sick, my rims feel like helicopter propellers
    And my pockets run deep like a Mercer teller
    Haters trip when they see the whip dippin by
    The paint on it change like the I-95
    I'm just Clyde, without the Bonnie, I got the hollowpoint
    Heat for you niggas and the po' for the mamis
    Sean Gotti, I'm puttin an end to camraderie
    I'm lettin off heat, 'til them eyes get watery
    Some gon' ricochet, some gon' hit, y'all gon' get 'em
    Fluids gon' disperse out like refreshin club serum
    I'm deadly as bite venom but I'm far from a snake
    I'll hit you up on your birthday while you cuttin your cake

    [Hook: The Game]
    We gangsters nigga; you see the cars, the whips
    The chains, the fuckin broads we with
    We gangsters nigga; we'll come through your hood
    A hundred deep and empty the whole clip
    We gangsters nigga; we got guns for the beef
    And my niggas'll put you under the street
    We gangsters nigga; so you better watch what you say
    'Fore I empty the whole Glock in your face

    [Verse 2: Sean T]
    Streets is tough, but ain't no hopscotch lines on the ground
    Just burner shells, and police siren sounds
    Niggas know who I am in the town; it ain't a circus
    But it might as well be, cause you know I'mma clown
    I'm a terrain boss, I know most niggas envious dawg
    And if a nigga owe me change you better give me it dawg
    If you feelin like you wanna leap, make like a frog
    You niggas lame, transparent like Wonder Woman's plane
    I'm a stunna in this game, a federal figure
    Blowin doj' in the hummer, 50 K on my fingers
    I'm like a NASCAR winner poppin Mo' and Bill{?}
    D-Squad don't give a fuck about nobody else
    I pull a {?} to contain your whole, clique for hours
    The end result will probably be, pinewood and flowers
    So I'll advise you deduct your QP's and powder
    We gangsters and we jacking cowards (yup!)


    [Verse 3: Sean T]
    S.T. nigga D-Squad, G.G.D
    Don't get it twisted motherfucker yeah we do creep
    We ride out thug, shit we don't die
    We lay low like mechanics tryin to fix up rides
    A lot of cats say I'm sick in the head, when I anger it's on
    Poodles gon' be up missin or dead
    I chop haters up, like an old-ass sample
    Or creep through your village, like Stallone in "Rambo"
    I'm like piranhas on red meat, I'm on you niggas
    You afros? Then I guess I got to comb you niggas
    So break bread, when you see me dawg hit the flo'
    I'm like a nigga off the X, unpredicta-ble
    Imitators always hollerin how gangsta they is
    But got about as much courage as the Lion in "The Wiz"
    Shit I'm into pullin shanks on you fake Jake cats
    Me and my burner hold it down man we go way back


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