The Game - Desparados lyrics

[The Game - Desparados lyrics]

I'm tucked on the border line
Where I'm picturing stones
I hit the switch
And watch them bitches be gone
Get it right figga, I'm in my rear view
Cause the streets can hear you
Bright moon to steer you, it's gotta be wild
Get in position cause the
Streets you'll find
Matter of fact I'm on a detail grind
Without no female lies, me and my team move
Ice like snow storms, the price gets
Tighter than vise grips
Cause game is priceless
Jammed up with ice picks no
Way you can write this
Seven on the dices, the way that I like shit
Catch me in the background
Holding the mac now
You never back down bitch
You better back down

Look in my eyes nigga tell me what you see
This right here
It's for the books like Frasier and Ali
Strap in ya belt cause we takin' the ride
Through this concrete jungle
Where you scratch to survive
Ya gotta
Play by the rules cause
The wolves is lurkin'
Night time the streets is quiet
But them wolves is workin'
You can slip if you want
That's when ya know it's real
Back against the wall
That's when ya blow the steel

Hey yo I spit that crack
Hit you with a freebie
After that
Bet you keep coming back to see me
See me, now picture that
When I'm better than any
Other chick that rap
Ya'll acting like I ain't never
Picked up the bat
Or picked up a mac
And make a bitch shit in her slacks
So try chill and relax, till I little spaz
I done filpped chicks for just trying
To give me a dap
But since boy I take ya jewels
I ain't givin 'em back
And they can investigate me I
Ain't givin 'em jack
It's neither big I bang
For the streets strictly
That's why everywhere I go I got
Beef in the east with me
Give me ya leaf and the piece is sticky
Don't try nothing tricky
I punch you in ya neck go
Tell ya moms to hit me
Custom made khaki's, no I'm not sticky
Who told ya'll chicks you
Was fucking with me

Look in my eyes nigga tell me what you see
This right here
It's for the books like Frasier and Ali
Strap in ya belt cause we takin' the ride
Through this concrete jungle
Where you scratch to survive
Ya gotta
Play by the rules cause
The wolves is lurkin'
Night time the streets is quiet
But them wolves is workin'
You can slip if you want
That's when ya know it's real
Back against the wall
That's when ya blow the steel

Too many hutlers, and not enough customers
Shit on the hood
Nobody gonna have no love for ya
Losing ya street cred on the
Real you can eat lead
And you don't want no problems
Praying that the beef dead
Yo they brought me back to strangle the mood
The little and Slick Rick neck dangling gold
I ain't home but few times a
Day I be changing my clothes
I want this next generation to know
When rap suck
You brought it back to the essence
So sit back and really think
Before you ask any questions
Got this game in the cobra clutch
Cowards ya'll know what's up
And ya shook what's on this earth
I seen so much stuff
I used to roll with Russ, the doors opened up
Doing big big things like
Making clothes and stuff
Street master mind, ya'll talking asinine
And I ain't have no choice my
Nigga I had to grind
I'm known for making moves
Labels be baking fools
Everything is fixed
It's like people get paid to lose
A few occasions my neighbourhood
Do it major news
Ya boy got more flavor than Jamican food

Look in my eyes nigga tell me what you see
This right here
It's for the books like Frasier and Ali
Strap in ya belt cause we takin' the ride
Through this concrete jungle
Where you scratch to survive
Ya gotta
Play by the rules cause
The wolves is lurkin'
Night time the streets is quiet
But them wolves is workin'
You can slip if you want
That's when ya know it's real
Back against the wall
That's when ya blow the steel

Let's slow the process elimination
My niggas out for that mighty Dollar
What you chasing?
I done been where you trying
To go and back again
I done seen niggas bang they own niggas
And believe me not an accident
So you think I give a fuck
What you say, how you feel
My niggas never tell shit, but a coward will
I used to yap about the Maybach
A real nigga in this industry is like
A needle in the hay stack
Fresh deodors, what we got before us
Suckers think they flow sick
Mind is rigor mortis
I don't know who the fuck ya playing with
Price on ya head could be
That bitch ya laying with
That'll take you to ya maker
While I'm in Jamica
Twistin up that Celtic green niggas
Post like Vin Baker

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