The Game, Young Rob - Feelin It lyrics

Young Rob what's good my nigga?
Chuck what' up with you
Shit, in here holdin' it down man. When
You gonna come see a nigga
Put somethin' on my books man
Yeah, I just shopped you
Something the other day
It should be getting to you. Like
The next day or two
Yeah yeah, I'm fuckin' with you nigga
Bitch came to my fuckin' bail
Came to my cell nigga said 'I had like
2.2 on my books. What I wanna
Buy?' Told that bitch give
Me a motherfuckin'
Million dollars worth of playboy books
You know I had to keep a nigga' books right?
Yeah yeah, you keep a nigga flodded man
Just wait 'till I touch down
I'm gonna be on some shit
You been writin' in there?


Little bit
Know what I'm sayin' - on
The walls and shit
Couple bars here couple bars there
Been fightin' and shit
You got something I could
Listen to real quick?
Shit, g yeah. Check it

Most of these rap niggas be fakin'
I'm talkin' the throne chases
I diss 'em on any basis
Throw Patrón shots to my face and
Stay blunted like jamaicans
The Marleys puffin' the finest cheefa
Fuckin' the finest divas
If I have it I'd like to meet 'cha
Show you how I light the streets up
Kill niggas that never speak up
You my fans
Sit in the stands and watch
Me rip these beats up
Like a legend
Feel my presence like the dead ones
If I die
My only wish is my face on some Air-1s
(Okay, okay, okay)
My soul's curled
My baby mommas they drive 6s
As for my bitches there's other
Rappers out there that's trickin'
My only mission was to sell a couple records
Buy a Bentley and drive reckless
A big medallion on my necklace
I 'seen Kane and Rakim do it
So much respect here
Hip Hop is dead because you new
Niggas don't get the message
I used to call names out
You niggas don't deserve it
So lame out
Die from these bullets 'outta Game's mouth
(ooh)

Yeah I've been here flexin' my
Shit nigga I told you
Yeah I see your shit's on fire
Nigga I know you got some more
Shit I can listen to
Shit, hell yeah check it

My flow polished, I studied the legends
Hip-Hop scholar kick knowledge get dollaz'
You got some work then holla
I'm on the block pitchin'
Most of us got riches
Not trippin' work hydraulics and
Fuck the hot bitches
Youngins don't stop wishin'
If you got a block then flip it
Just because I'm a blood don't mean
My niggas should stop crippin'
We from the ghetto
We came up without a pot to piss in
We gettin' money stayin' blunted cause'
The clock is tickin'
You got a rock then pitch it
You got a Glock then lift it
Them G-Unot t-shirts make them
Niggas stop snitchin'
Forever ballin' I'm Jim Jones with rims
On that blue Aston Martin interior
Like my skin tone
Most of these rappers want me dead
Shit I been gone
Too classic, move rapid
My jewels the blackest
The first 8 letters and everything
That I stand for
Colder than a New York block
Shut the damn door

Changed up your style up this shit, ooh-ee
Had to give the East
Coast niggas somethin' man
You know I be on
My motherfuckin' gangsta shit
Sometimes I just gotta' spaz out
Man, damn I can't wait 'till you're home
Boy
You know man, it's like
It's just another year and half
I'll be good man. Need some pussy though
That's the main shit
Pussy and Patron

Niggas calling me back for an
Encore like I'm Eminem
I disappear niggas like spinnin' rims
Who the fuck wanna war
Meet us at in the corner store
Call it the hot spot
Where gangbangers throw hot rocks the
Boys coming So what
They pop cops
Push them hot drops Hop out
With them shirts on
And say we got rocks High-school drop outs
They're there to air the block out
Stack paper like the OGs told us
(Ey come on my nigga I gotta go, gotta go)
We only chirp on Nextels don't
Talk on them Motorolas
Gotta' feel that
(I gotta go pick up Brandy man, Chuck)
So kick back and listen to what I'm saying
Picture me parleying
(Chuck) I'm flippin' bricks when you
Eating pussy you chicken shit
I fuck bitches on their time
I 'chall when they dime
Gettin' head under the table
Everybody stay calm
(Aww fuck this shit)
I'm great