The Game - Heaven's Arms lyrics
[The Game - Heaven's Arms lyrics]
Part the Red Sea in red Louboutins
Who the don?
Walk inside the club with all his Gucci on
You've been warned
Packing heat like two LeBrons
And my crew is strong as Cali kush
It keep you (higher than heaven's arms)
Gucci in my closet, pardon my head
Pardon my French, but I'm on my Nas shit
Off with your head
Off with your bitch, she offered me head
I offered her dick
Slid my black card at the reception
Now we off in the Ritz
I'm rolling this kush, she coughing and shit
Freak bitch named Jada love the LOX
I got her talkin' to Kiss
Got my hands behind my head
Now she all in the split's
Dick must be good 'cause now
She in Boston with bricks
Got a text on my iPhone
She caught with my shit
Off with a ten
She took it 'cause she's far from a snitch
Hold her mama and her daddy down
Got a sister at Georgetown
Paying her tuition so she
Ain't gotta be strippin'
It's money so I ain't trippin'
This bullshit get printed
Them banks get scoped out
Black cars get rented
My Gucci suit tailored, my fade get tapered
You get sent to your maker
Fuckin' around with my paper
Hard bottom Ferragamos
IQ too much for mediocre convo
I know a Farrakhan though, three-story condo
IPod shuffling between Common
Jay Electronica and Bono
Armado, the last words of Paul Castellano
Nothin' but endless paper and bitches
For niggas I know
Smokin' Cheeba, feeding divas McDonald's
All the way in Milano, ashin' out Cohibas
Fuckin' in that blue Aventador
The nose like Gonzo
Let a bitch get a breather
Then she back hittin' high notes
Throwin' Louis luggage at dealerships
Fuck a car note
15's in everything, beating like Harpo
Rolling purple like Harpo
Bitches by the car load
They wana see Prince
I'm pulling strings like Carlos
Santana, now we in Magic, Atlanta
Wipin' Ciroc off my Loubi's
With my Gucci bandana
Kanye with Kim now, I'm happy for that nigga
Disrespect him or his wifey
I'll slap you for that nigga
Grew up listenin' to Pac
Now I'm rappin' for that nigga
My brother been dead 20 years
I'm trappin' for that nigga
God Flow like Pusha n'em
Rose Phantom pushin' 'em
Splittin' Louisville Sluggers open
Puttin' kush in 'em
Ain't forgot about the Twin Towers
I blame Bush for them
Obama can't speak on it 'cause
The government's shushin' him
But that's my nigga though
Still stackin' figures
So one day I'm top 5 and
I can politic with Jigga though
I was just trying to
Blueprint myself behind Jigga
Though
And all them old disses, yo, bullshit
Thibodeau
He be where the Summer be
I be where the Winter go
Tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole
I'm out here tryna win a penant though
Never thought I'd be legendary
But fuck it I'm in it so
Who the don?
Walk inside the club with all his Gucci on
You've been warned
Packing heat like two LeBrons
And my crew is strong as Cali kush
It keep you (higher than heaven's arms)
Gucci in my closet, pardon my head
Pardon my French, but I'm on my Nas shit
Off with your head
Off with your bitch, she offered me head
I offered her dick
Slid my black card at the reception
Now we off in the Ritz
I'm rolling this kush, she coughing and shit
Freak bitch named Jada love the LOX
I got her talkin' to Kiss
Got my hands behind my head
Now she all in the split's
Dick must be good 'cause now
She in Boston with bricks
Got a text on my iPhone
She caught with my shit
Off with a ten
She took it 'cause she's far from a snitch
Hold her mama and her daddy down
Got a sister at Georgetown
Paying her tuition so she
Ain't gotta be strippin'
It's money so I ain't trippin'
This bullshit get printed
Them banks get scoped out
Black cars get rented
My Gucci suit tailored, my fade get tapered
You get sent to your maker
Fuckin' around with my paper
Hard bottom Ferragamos
IQ too much for mediocre convo
I know a Farrakhan though, three-story condo
IPod shuffling between Common
Jay Electronica and Bono
Armado, the last words of Paul Castellano
Nothin' but endless paper and bitches
For niggas I know
Smokin' Cheeba, feeding divas McDonald's
All the way in Milano, ashin' out Cohibas
Fuckin' in that blue Aventador
The nose like Gonzo
Let a bitch get a breather
Then she back hittin' high notes
Throwin' Louis luggage at dealerships
Fuck a car note
15's in everything, beating like Harpo
Rolling purple like Harpo
Bitches by the car load
They wana see Prince
I'm pulling strings like Carlos
Santana, now we in Magic, Atlanta
Wipin' Ciroc off my Loubi's
With my Gucci bandana
Kanye with Kim now, I'm happy for that nigga
Disrespect him or his wifey
I'll slap you for that nigga
Grew up listenin' to Pac
Now I'm rappin' for that nigga
My brother been dead 20 years
I'm trappin' for that nigga
God Flow like Pusha n'em
Rose Phantom pushin' 'em
Splittin' Louisville Sluggers open
Puttin' kush in 'em
Ain't forgot about the Twin Towers
I blame Bush for them
Obama can't speak on it 'cause
The government's shushin' him
But that's my nigga though
Still stackin' figures
So one day I'm top 5 and
I can politic with Jigga though
I was just trying to
Blueprint myself behind Jigga
Though
And all them old disses, yo, bullshit
Thibodeau
He be where the Summer be
I be where the Winter go
Tomahawk the Bugatti, Florida State Seminole
I'm out here tryna win a penant though
Never thought I'd be legendary
But fuck it I'm in it so