Fucked Up lyrics

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Game lyrics : "Fucked Up"

[Hook: Game]
These ^!$$%s got me $#[email protected] up [x4]
These ^!$$%s got me, I think

These ^!$$%s got me $#[email protected] up

[Verse 1: Game]

I be on the block with that chrome boy, Postin' up with my home boy
Leanin' on the 2 tone boy, What you want for them zones boy
10-5, 10-4, put it on the scale, add a little more

Take a shot of that 'tron boy, bag it up and then gone boy
They givin' [?] out, watch yourself on that phone boy
They gave me seven [?], mama singing that song boy

We gettin' money baby, we gettin' cash money
Stuntin' like I'm Birdman, sittin' on my cash
120 on the dash, 4 [?] on the wheeeeels

Paper stacking too long boy, blowing cheech and that chong boy
Better watch that tone boy, headshots to that dome boy


[Hook x2]

[Verse 2: Menace]

Think a ^!$$% trip the way I walk around
Gotta keep that pistol on my hip to lay them haters down
Gotta keep them (*##$es on my dick then I bring [?] around

Paper stash gon' break em down, $#[email protected] 'em hard don't make a sound
I'm all about that trap boy, ride around with that pistol
Gotta keep the (*##$ in my lap boy, hater ^!$$%s, come get ya

Made my ^!$$%s [?], my ^!$$%s clean, we do it [?], try to intervene
That's suicide $#[email protected]' with my team, I'm blowing clouds and I'm 'bout the cream
Yeah, and I'm bout that %#@!, we full of chips, and I'm [?] hoes

Y'all full of %#@!, not suckin' the O's, I'm too legit and I'm tippin' 4's
Niggas really want it, (*##$es lookin' silly for it
Really kill the ^!$$%s for it, ^!$$%s lookin' real important


[Hook x2]


[Verse 3: Game]
Say boy, ever had a (*##$ all up in your crib
Stickin' that dick all up in the ribs

Then she tell $#[email protected] ^!$$%s where you live
And now they all up in your %#@!
Flippin' matresses over, turnin' couches sideways

They thinkin' crime pays
Got a choppa
For the ^!$$%s that don't understand how the $#[email protected] we ope-

-rate and anyway get back on top of my paper chase
Kush burnin', smell the dragon, 29's, been had 'em
Niggas take shots, then runnin' high

We'll find their $$#, Bin Ladin
Me and Mike in the Benz wagon, better watch your block boy
Purple clouds of that Pepe Lepue, I'm gone of that Ciroc boy

Clipped up to that pop boy, holdin' on to that knot boy
Palms grippin' that Glock boy, we comin' back for them yachts boy


[Hook x2]

Submit Corrections

Thanks to soryna2

Powered by MusixMatch