Game – The Pledge Lyrics


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From the top
Back again mothafuckas
It's 3 Am in the mornin', like what?
Niggas can't fuck with me man. West coast don
You know me. HA!
AW shit! You know what I'm bout to do this shit
Body this shit!
Yeah, Blackwall Street niggas
The black Jim Hoffa, that's me
Chec, chec, check

Eh yo these rap niggas bore me
Flow dormant, so corny

That's why when I drop shit
They jump on it
Like dicks they love it
Homo niggas

Choke when the game on the line
Dallas Cowboy Romo niggas

I got more bitches, more digits
07 I'm hitting more switches
Hip-hop broke, I'm gon fix it
I been away for a minute
I was in Europe on tour
Now I'm back, bonjour
The flow is so pure

I was baptized by the Doug E Fresh's
Lost my way and got reckless

Too much beefin' Had me screwed up like Texas
So I had to take em back to the '98 Lexus
Take the grill out for dinner
Chop the crack for breakfast
It's a million niggas like me
Red strings in they Nike's
Some official, some softer than Scott's tissue
That's life B

Deal with it
Carry the steel with it

If you hard peel with it
One dome shot if you real with it

I'm from Compton son
Aim at a target and I will hit it

Cocaine Game
Put red sauce on ya Bills fitted
See me in the streets
I'm probably holdin' some

Beverly Hills
Spending money like I'm Oprah's son
That's why the bitches feel me
And they baby daddy's wanna kill me

Run up on the Range
Fucking with Game
He gon bang

Picture ya bleedin'
All stretched out
Barely breathin'
Huffin' and wheezin'
As the Range Rover tires screechin'

I've been
Coached by the OGs
Chased by the police

You ain't never seen a nigga
Hit a fence like me

Catch me If you can
Leonardo DiCaprio

They say I'm not a real blood
The hood is backin' me though

Niggas like Deebo, White Boy, Fog and Knot
Ask Big Dan if young Game
Jogged the block
Hog the rock
Sell it if it's hard or not

Before they call the cops
I rip apart the block
I'm in the bathroom flushing
Out the window, Hit the back gate

Tomorrow guess what?
I'm at the same corner hustlin

I done sold weed, sold X, sold crack
Never been snitched on
Cause I ain't ever ran with no rats

Never left ma grandma house
Without loading both straps

Never fumbled runnin' like Barry Sanders
Know that

I vow to hustle til there's no more crack
Indirectly, got a young nigga to fold those packs
The black Jim Hoffa
Lemme introduce you to the show stopper
Mr. Lamborghini driver, low-Pro copper
He is I and I am he
We are one like the moon and the sun
I been around
Kid hustlin
With grown men around

Seen homies get shot
And watch bodies spin around
Ain't hardly from Marcy
But I gotta respect it
Got niggas there
Chi town
And Mo-Town
I'm well-connected
Get your body dropped off
Any town I please

Let the trap snap on the rat
You'll die eating cheese
Get on your knees
Pray for Harry-O, Kenneth Supreme
I pledge allegiance to the hustlers
Keep livin' ya dream

Ayo Skee man, shit is too easy
Ya know what I'm sayin?
We put out mixtapes when the fuck we feel like it
Not when you want it, when the fuck we feel like it
And I'm the CEO of mothafuckin' Blackwall Street Records, Blackwall Street Enterprises, Blackwall Street Porno's, Blackwall Street toilet tissue, Blackwall Street mothafuckin' car detailin', Blackwall Street car wash nigga, Blackwall Street socks, shoes, mothafuckin' ovens, kitchen appliances, I'm Blackwall Street's President, CEO, fuckin'... fuck it!

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