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Game lyrics : "Church for Thugs"

Yeah, Fort Knock, Aftermath, Compton to Jersey
What y'all fools know about perculatin on lo-los?
Mics and six-fo's ^!$$%

Ha ha, no more hand claps, please ^!$$%
Here we go - Just Blaze!


[The Game]
To all my ^!$$%s on the porch gettin they hair braided
Cornrowed by a L.A. (*##$

And I can't forget, my ^!$$%s ridin the train, Yankee fitted
Snub nose under that Pelle %#@!
I love New York, but gangbangin that's L.A. %#@!

And I'm proud of it, spit it through the wire so the crowd love it
Haters you know who you are, you can turn it down, $#&@ it {*volume fades*}
{*volume rises*} I can shoot a video to it and spend half the budget

I'm gangster, let the 40 cal blow in public
More hatred inside my soul than 'Pac had for Delores Tucker
Every time one of my ^!$$%s get shot, the more I suffer

Cause we trapped inside a world where you forced to die for your colors
I seen it all through the Range tints
Got ^!$$%s doin life in the state pen

So I dread like Jamaicans
If I die for one of my statements
Then break up the streets of Compton

Spread my blood in the pavement

[Hook - repeat 2X]

Believe me
^!$$%s keep sayin they gon' heat me up
Talkin that %#@! like they gon' lay me down

But when I come through strapped to see what's up
^!$$%s really don't want no parts of me pal


[The Game]
Who I gotta talk to, who I gotta write
Get my Reebok deal done or I'm stayin in Air Nikes, aight?

I handle bars, you ain't gotta ride a bike
To beat Game in his skills, here go some trainin wheels
Let's roll, through the City of God, where ^!$$%s trained to kill

We'll chop you up a hundred times worse than the Haitians will
F'real, nah f'real I need a track homey
Dre we too close, ain't no turnin back homey

Deal with it, I'mma be here for ten years
Spittin like the ghost of Eric Wright and Big here
Let me paint this picture while you sit here

Thinkin in the back of your mind, this is the %#@!, yeah
I spit for ^!$$%s doin 25 on they fifth year
Ready to throw a ^!$$% off the fifth tier

Them white boys in the Abercrombie & Fitch gear
And every ^!$$% who ever helped me to get here


[Hook]

[The Game]

It go one brick, two brick, the boy movin weight
Now three bricks, four bricks, I'm drivin upstate
Five bricks, six bricks, the ^!$$% got cake

Not rap money, but money been wrapped since eighty-eight
Look at the world we live in, ^!$$%s steady hate
'til the Heckler and Koch, leave 'em chopped up like Freddie's face

^!$$%s catchin feelings cause I'm about millions
And out of all the newcomes out, my flow the illest
You a close second ^!$$%, banana to a gorilla

Put us in the same cage, and I'mma have to peel him
The best of both worlds, rappin and drug dealin
Run and tell Lateef I came to burn down the village

The head honcho, starin out the third story window
Of my Beverly Hills condo
Two long-ass Heats, I call 'em Shaq and Alonzo

You ^!$$%s want me out of L.A., geah I know

[Hook]

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