The Game - Fucked Up lyrics

These niggas got me fucked up
These niggas got me, I think
These niggas got me fucked up

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 im Birdman
Sittin' on my cash
120 on the dash, 4 on the w heeeels
Paper stacking too long boy
Blowing cheech and that chong boy
Better watch that tone boy
Headshots to that dome boy

Think a nigga trip the way I walk around
Gotta keep that pistol on my hip
To lay them haters down
Gotta keep them bitches on my dick
Then I bring around
Paper stash gon' break em down
Fuck 'em hard don't make a sound
I'm all about that trap boy
Ride around with that pistol
Gotta keep the bitch in my
Lap boy, hater niggas
Come get ya
Made my niggas, my niggas clean, we do it
Try to intervene
Thats suicide fuckin' with my team
I'm blowing clouds and I'm 'bout the cream
Yeah, and I'm bout that shit
We full of chips
And I'm hoes
Y'all full of shit, not suckin' the O's
I'm too legit and I'm tippin' 4's
Niggas really want it
Bitches lookin' silly for it
Really kill the niggas for it
Niggas lookin' real important

Say boy, ever had a bitch all up in your crib
Stickin' that dick all up in the ribs
Then she tell fuck niggas where you live
And now they all up in your shit
Flippin' matresses over
Turnin' couches sideways
They thinkin' crime pays
Got a choppa
For the niggas that don't understand
How the fuck 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 ass, 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