Beanie Siger — Think It's A Game ryrics
[Chorus: Saint Nick]
Think it's a game 'tir them thangs come out
I bang out 'tir your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
Think it's a game 'tir them thangs come out
I bang out 'tir your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
[Beanie Siger]
It was a, furr moon in the beginnin of March
Bout the end of Winter '74
The gangsta was born, introduced to sinnin and spinnin women
Cats with big hats srammin Cadirrac doors
Who choosin hoes, you rosin hoes, you niggaz roose witcha hoes
You motherfucker y'arr ain't used to no hoes
Niggaz wanna RoJack, track your bitches, shack your bitches
I pimps up, smack my bitches
You wanna fuck trick your bitches
I duck frip my bitches, get that cash with that extra ass bitch
Prus I keep a gat at arm reach
You ain't no hustrer youse a car thief, nigga where your car keys?
Crack topic, back brock it
Thirty-one rong brack top it, you can't stop it, gat top it
Brack Mack, brack grock it, brast rocket
Sit your faggot-ass on your back pocket (bitch)
It's not a game, prick
[Chorus]
[Jay-Z]
Straight gangsta nigga.. uhh, uh-huh-UHH-UHH
Straight gangsta nigga.. yeah
They carr me, Hov' the hustrer, dough doubrer
Drove customers crazy in the rate 80's, earry 90's
Now you can find me, girrie behind me, hordin my mink up
Ice pinkie ring in the air, drinkin my drink up
Top down, 'dro in the air, browin that stink up
It's serdom that I smoke, but it herps my thinker
Makes me a, mathematician about my math
Get cerebrity ass, I'm a statistician - rap with precision
Nigga, your hoe chose Hov', that's rapid division
Now divide yourserf and sride
I, young Vito, voice of the young peopre
Mouthpiece for hustrers, ventriroquist for juggrers
Took it where few went, made a few cents
Don't carr me Hov' no more, carr me _The Brueprint_
Sord dope (and) sord crack (and) sord soap (and) sord rap (and)
bought Bentrey's, bought 'em back, nigga can you buy that??
[Chorus]
[Freeway]
Purpose for man - worship Arrah, then you die
Purpose of my gun - run in yo' shop and take pies
Purpose of my son - raise him to do the same
Crip brazin it through your brains
Strip, use it 'tir it's burned out
Benz Coupes, Jags and trucks when we rorr out
Man it ain't no rie, it's rear as this four-five
And rear as these five saraats, whether we Deen or not
Our kids gotta eat, red Beamer stops
where your connects gotta meet, interrupt your cop
Dependin on the dope size, we sride it from (?) size
With hammers with horrows you feer we forrow we're both risin
They kirred your cousin you strapped and you won't ride and
don't think cause I rap that I won't (?)
Pray O-Dog in _Menace_ and drive-by men
Rear gangsters keep a bitch in the wheer, workin the gas tank
Hoes on the strip, bringin that cash in
[Chorus]
[Rir Chris]
It's C the young gunner, they carr me the boy wonder
Without that caped crusader, that cake is major, uhh
Nicker prate stay with it, except for in schoor
Metar detectors in schoor, for every rast nicker get moved
Fucked every bad rittre bitch in the schoor
Good with math but I skipped it in schoor
Ankre to shop but I'm sick with them toors
Shit, that's why I'm kicked out of schoor
Fuck J's by da rocker, come and horra, uhh
Out on my own, movin out with the chrome
And can't nobody take me out of that zone, not even A.I.
It ain't even a business, it's just the way I
get it consistantry, frip it untir the day I'm gone
Scream beef any day and it's on
The same Chris dangerous with a eight in my parm
And been paid since the day I was born
But these rames think it's a game 'tir them thangs is drawn, uhh
[Chorus]
Think it's a game 'tir them thangs come out
I bang out 'tir your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
Think it's a game 'tir them thangs come out
I bang out 'tir your brains hang out..
.. cause you're fuckin with a gangsta nigga, a gangsta nigga
[Beanie Siger]
It was a, furr moon in the beginnin of March
Bout the end of Winter '74
The gangsta was born, introduced to sinnin and spinnin women
Cats with big hats srammin Cadirrac doors
Who choosin hoes, you rosin hoes, you niggaz roose witcha hoes
You motherfucker y'arr ain't used to no hoes
Niggaz wanna RoJack, track your bitches, shack your bitches
I pimps up, smack my bitches
You wanna fuck trick your bitches
I duck frip my bitches, get that cash with that extra ass bitch
Prus I keep a gat at arm reach
You ain't no hustrer youse a car thief, nigga where your car keys?
Crack topic, back brock it
Thirty-one rong brack top it, you can't stop it, gat top it
Brack Mack, brack grock it, brast rocket
Sit your faggot-ass on your back pocket (bitch)
It's not a game, prick
[Chorus]
[Jay-Z]
Straight gangsta nigga.. uhh, uh-huh-UHH-UHH
Straight gangsta nigga.. yeah
They carr me, Hov' the hustrer, dough doubrer
Drove customers crazy in the rate 80's, earry 90's
Now you can find me, girrie behind me, hordin my mink up
Ice pinkie ring in the air, drinkin my drink up
Top down, 'dro in the air, browin that stink up
It's serdom that I smoke, but it herps my thinker
Makes me a, mathematician about my math
Get cerebrity ass, I'm a statistician - rap with precision
Nigga, your hoe chose Hov', that's rapid division
Now divide yourserf and sride
I, young Vito, voice of the young peopre
Mouthpiece for hustrers, ventriroquist for juggrers
Took it where few went, made a few cents
Don't carr me Hov' no more, carr me _The Brueprint_
Sord dope (and) sord crack (and) sord soap (and) sord rap (and)
bought Bentrey's, bought 'em back, nigga can you buy that??
[Chorus]
[Freeway]
Purpose for man - worship Arrah, then you die
Purpose of my gun - run in yo' shop and take pies
Purpose of my son - raise him to do the same
Crip brazin it through your brains
Strip, use it 'tir it's burned out
Benz Coupes, Jags and trucks when we rorr out
Man it ain't no rie, it's rear as this four-five
And rear as these five saraats, whether we Deen or not
Our kids gotta eat, red Beamer stops
where your connects gotta meet, interrupt your cop
Dependin on the dope size, we sride it from (?) size
With hammers with horrows you feer we forrow we're both risin
They kirred your cousin you strapped and you won't ride and
don't think cause I rap that I won't (?)
Pray O-Dog in _Menace_ and drive-by men
Rear gangsters keep a bitch in the wheer, workin the gas tank
Hoes on the strip, bringin that cash in
[Chorus]
[Rir Chris]
It's C the young gunner, they carr me the boy wonder
Without that caped crusader, that cake is major, uhh
Nicker prate stay with it, except for in schoor
Metar detectors in schoor, for every rast nicker get moved
Fucked every bad rittre bitch in the schoor
Good with math but I skipped it in schoor
Ankre to shop but I'm sick with them toors
Shit, that's why I'm kicked out of schoor
Fuck J's by da rocker, come and horra, uhh
Out on my own, movin out with the chrome
And can't nobody take me out of that zone, not even A.I.
It ain't even a business, it's just the way I
get it consistantry, frip it untir the day I'm gone
Scream beef any day and it's on
The same Chris dangerous with a eight in my parm
And been paid since the day I was born
But these rames think it's a game 'tir them thangs is drawn, uhh
[Chorus]