The Game - Invisible Felon lyrics
[The Game - Invisible Felon lyrics]
See the block what
You can't stop us or drop us, long nose
Sluggin the drop what
We real niggas
Compton blood runnaz and gunnaz
The red raiders been on hiatus
Made it back for the summer
Fuck rap, it ain't about that
Hip hop is dead
You whack rappers broke one in the head
Nas said it he ain't regret it
I talk to him
Any nigga disagree
Run up on the passenger side
And put a spark to him
Phony ass rap niggas
Swear they gon clap some
Talkin out the side of they mouth
With no gat frontin
Long as I'm alive, this shit don't stop
We know who killed BIG and Pac
He gon' drop
You niggas think you scare me?
Nigga you don't scare me B
I'm from Compton mothafucka
Real life, real gangs
Real shootouts mothafucka I took them shots
I see you standin there
So what bitch? Move!
I'm the west Don
The next one to kick his fuckin feet up
Puffin on cheeba
Niggas give me the chills
I pick the heat up
I'm scared of who, you? fuck naw
I let the shit blow, circle the block
Before I duck off
I stay blunted, stay around pussy
Stay liquored up with the finest bitches
You niggas trickin
I'm with the bucks like Milwaukee
I shoot em dead
Left hand like Michael Redd
Recycle the flow, come back
I'm dead prez
Too political
Guerilla on mass beats
Leave your career in critical condition
Destroy niggas, my mission is to disposition
All you faggots
I ain't beefin with one nigga
There's room for all you
Niggas in this casket
Get in
All homo ass niggas, B
Niggas straight fuckin homos nigga
When you see me in the streets nigga
You don't say shit
Niggas don't be doin shit
Whole bunch of niggas man
Loud noise makers, fuck ya'll
I stand ova niggas with a gun, let it hum
Your crew run, run, run, your crew run, run
I stand ova niggas with a gun, let it hum
Your crew run, run, run, your crew run, run
I fuck ova niggas
Only give props
To them olda niggas
Snoop, Cube, Rakim, KRS
The coldest niggas
Can't forget nasty Nas
And that Hova nigga
Disrespectful tongue [?] yet it still
I owe them niggas
Pay homage, spray llamas
Drive Bentleys, roll through any hood
You don't believe me
Then ride with me
Pray on the soul
On any nigga that collide with me
He bust first, I shot back
The moral is you die with me
See nigga I don't really give a fuck
About all this G-unit talk and all
These punk ass records nigga
First of all you don't sell records nigga
Second of all nigga you ain't
As handsome as me
Third of all you ain't fuckin as
Many bitches as I'm fuckin
Fourth of all you ain't got enough
OG mothafuckin homies backin you nigga
Fifth of all, fuck you