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 : "Lets Ride"

[Verse 1]
Pull the rag off the six-fo',
Hit the switch, show ^!$$%s how the %#@! go,

The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone,
The D's is chrome, the frame is black.
(So watch it lift up)

Till the mother$#&@er bounce and break,
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate.
Let the games begin,

These other rap ^!$$%s so far behind me, go taste my rims,
%#@!, let the chronic burn as the datens spin.
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem,

In the club, poppin' X pills like M & Ms,
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', (*##$ bring a friend.
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round,

And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down.
(Put your 'cris up!)
If you feel the same way,

Who got 'em hittin' switches NY to LA

[Hook]

(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got (*##$es in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)

Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that $$#,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my %#@!, the west-coast in this (*##$

(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath


[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at,

Where the (*##$es at,
You $#&@ing on the first night, meet me in the back.
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks,

Move (*##$! Who the $#&@ you think they came to see?
The protégé of the D R E,
You take a picture with him, and you gotta $#&@ me,

And you gotta $#&@ Busta, can't touch Eve,
Got something in my waist that you can't touch either,
That's - my gangsta (*##$, and like Crips and Bloods,

I'm in the club on some gangsta %#@!.
(So ^!$$% twist up)
Light another dub,

(*##$es get scared when ^!$$%s start fighting in the club.
Ain't nothing but a g-thing, baby it's a g-thing,
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your g-string,

I $#&@ a different (*##$ seven days a week,
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat.


[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)
Hop in the low-rider, long as you got (*##$es in the back,

(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that $$#,
(If I could fit the whole world in the club)

Tell the DJ to bang my %#@!, the west-coast in this (*##$
(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,

In a blunt, call it Aftermath

[Verse 3]

^!$$%s thought I wasn't coming back, look at me now
Look at me now,
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the mother$#&@ing top down,

I'm The Game, ^!$$%
Call your (*##$, she ain't home, she with Game, ^!$$%
Remember that, Dre

You passed me the torch, I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray,
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the $$# scrapes,
Turn sunset into a mother$#&@ing drag-race.

Now watch it bounce,
Hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the %#@! down.
{When you hit the club)

Tell 'em you came with me,
(We gonna twist up)
In the V.I.P.
It's a new day, and if you ever knew Dre,
Mother$#&@er, you would say I was the new Dre.

Same Impala, different spokes
Same chronic, just a different smoke.

[Hook]
(If I could fit the whole hood in the club)

Hop in the low-rider, long as you got (*##$es in the back,
(I turn it into a strip-club)
Call it a lap-dance, when the six-fo' bounce that $$#,
(If I could fit the hole world in the club)
Tell the DJ to bang my %#@!, the west-coast in this (*##$

(Pop bottles and twist up)
Roll up chronic and hash,
In a blunt, call it Aftermath

Submit Corrections