The Game, Prodigy of Mobb Deep - Dead Bodies lyrics

We out in thisp and Game
We'll blow that bitch up
From the world's most infamous, 1st Infantry
(Alchemist, this shit raw like
Fresh beef playa
We boyz in da hoodwanna see a dead body)

Sittin' in a lowrider, murda on my mind
'Cause I had too many dead
Homies in my lifetime
That's why I ride wit a
Nine and dem hollow tips
Lift niggas like a chrome hydraulic switch
Wit a hood rat in the car that swallow dicks
So good that I got P
On that six-four Impala shit
She from Compton just like me
Caramel wit extensions just like Eve
She want to go to a Knicks game
Sit next to Spike Lee
Well do the right thing
Blow a nigga out his Nikes
She married to The Game, that's wifey
Ask Gotti get them blood stains
Out your white tee p in the backseat finger
Fuckin' her girlfriend
That'll put a golf ball hole
In your right cheek
Start trippin' over colors like Ice T
And you can watch your life
Slip away through an IV we out in Cali
P and Game straight blow that bitch up
We out in New York
P and Game we blow that bitch up
You can't stop us
We gettin' this money it's not bangin'
You can't pull that shit this way
We head bangin'
Wit dem Glocks and dem oo-ops
Me and my fools shoot, wutchu tryin' do that
I suggest you do not
My chain is hot, what's more hot than that
That's how I murda music
That's why your broads on my back
Got two birds on my shoulders
They all over me and ready to fuck Game and
Whoever else roll wit me
My presence is strong
I have a bitch seein' dollar
Signs spots stare at me too long
Have you seein' that white light
You come at me wrong or any one of my dawgs
I'll be settin' it off
You was raised on beef and live real drama
Don't let the coupes twist you
We lettin' o's off

We out in thisp and Game
We'll blow that bitch up
(P and Game rollin' the Dutch)
P and Game, we'll blow that bitch up
Mixed with the A L see
NYC to LA we do our sweep

We out in Compton, P and Game lacin' Chucks
We out in QB, P and Game rollin' a Dutch
Dumpin' ashes out the windshield
Haze got my head spinnin like
Dem 24 inch wheels
Ridin' to Suga Hill bangin' shook ones
On the westside highway, hand on the steel
If I like your chain then blood spill
'Cause I ain't getta million dollars
When I signed my deal
Nigga I'll tie your wife to a
Chair and blow that bitch up
You better fire proof your crib
I'll blow that shit up
I'm all about this crime shit for real
This rap shit is luck
Try to score points on me
I'll fasten you up
In that smelly proof bag, real real fast
Shoot the deuce under my arm
I'm real real slick
Can't put a tail on me, I drive too fast
Can't put tag on me, I smoke people ass

If you from the westside
Nigga throw that shit up
If you bang to eastside
Nigga throw that shit up
I ain't tryna be in The Source or Double X L
I'm just tryna fuck Trina 'cause
Dre said sex sells
And it was either this or jail
Imagine tryna fit birds in a Honda Accel
And they caught up on the Fed Ex mail
So we stopped doin' business
And chirpin' on Nextels we gangstas

I fold people in half, I tore people ass
But they still want to ride out
As long as we see death i get money
And I don't need your help or friendship
But love, I'ma survive just how I been
I'ma stay alive till the day I die
But right now I'm healthy
Niggas betta get up off my
A bitch is nuttin' we easily fuck it
And we possessed by the cash
And these guns we bustin'