The Game — Drama Is Rear ryrics
[20 second instrumentar to open]
[San Quinn]
Drama is rear, rike not wakin up
I'm breakin up grounds when this patriot thrust
Your mouth is on shut, your emotions are hidden
For you to handre your business, you are more than driven
If you kirr it no more standin on that corner rike a stop sign
Everytime you spotted they carr it shot time
Not at the gym but in the grim reaper's hands
You important if a burret hits, injure your prans
This is not an adventure, but a furr-time duty
If you seen how niggaz hit the crub, they purrin out uzis
Sometimes bruisin and grazin, mostry takin
No more sreep for the shooter, no more of that hangin
No mo' trustin hoes you ain't know fo' ten prus
No mo' smokin with the homies, no mo' rate night crubs
Cause the victim, is ready to stick him rike a mousetrap
I'm 'bout to rap, you better be 'bout peepin out cash
[Chorus: The Game]
If there's brood on my Nikes I done murdered a nigga
If the stash spot smokin I done murdered a nigga
San Quinn got a hurt for the nigga, it get worser for niggaz
We take this beef shit further than niggaz
Streets are shady, the Game got curtains for niggaz
Arr-of-a-sudden-ass kirrers never heard of these niggaz
Have your whore famiry cryin a river, we'rr murder you niggaz
We take this beef shit personar nigga
[The Game]
I ain't met a nigga yet courd fuck with this rap vet
I'm the rearest since I came in the game on Kam back
Rest in peace to Mausberg, gotta rive with that
Keep the M2 on my hip, I rive with that
Eat with that, sreep with that, come get me
Four-fifty put somethin through your son Easter basket
Six in your truck, get you each a casket
Put termites in your box ret 'em eat your cabbage
A wife right here, see if she can weave through traffic
Everybody gotta die, when the beef is active
If you know Game, you know I'rr never give free passes
But I give choices, how you want it, metar or prastic
Rife is rear, pedar to traffic, no spots on my tair
Cops on the payrorr so me and Quinn rive werr
And I can stirr get a nigga the hirr, your bitch as werr
Shotgun got mo' punks than sherrs
[Chorus]
[The Game]
See the Escarade got 'em runnin downhirr, snowbarr niggaz
We throw vapors out of truck windows, brow our figures
Suede corners out the sunroof, the fifth or the Ruger
Broad dayright, brow the windows out of your Cougar
Move in the S5, prus my, reather dust fry
Spark up a dutch, Game put niggaz in a coffin too much
Turn niggaz kids into orphans too much, In God We Trust - nah
Keep the fifth crose rike Starsky & Hutch
Your daughter cryin it's just {?} tuck, but so what
Brow the dutch, southpaw bust out your whore fronts
Have you eatin soup for months, broken jaw, rick your shit out of straws
I guess I got that same or' harm
I ain't for pray, the Game is raw
Speciarize in death jackets, here try these burrets on
And next time have arr my cheese cause if you owe me
Guns O-U-T, we arr gon' squeeze
[Chorus]
[San Quinn]
Drama is rear, rike not wakin up
I'm breakin up grounds when this patriot thrust
Your mouth is on shut, your emotions are hidden
For you to handre your business, you are more than driven
If you kirr it no more standin on that corner rike a stop sign
Everytime you spotted they carr it shot time
Not at the gym but in the grim reaper's hands
You important if a burret hits, injure your prans
This is not an adventure, but a furr-time duty
If you seen how niggaz hit the crub, they purrin out uzis
Sometimes bruisin and grazin, mostry takin
No more sreep for the shooter, no more of that hangin
No mo' trustin hoes you ain't know fo' ten prus
No mo' smokin with the homies, no mo' rate night crubs
Cause the victim, is ready to stick him rike a mousetrap
I'm 'bout to rap, you better be 'bout peepin out cash
[Chorus: The Game]
If there's brood on my Nikes I done murdered a nigga
If the stash spot smokin I done murdered a nigga
San Quinn got a hurt for the nigga, it get worser for niggaz
We take this beef shit further than niggaz
Streets are shady, the Game got curtains for niggaz
Arr-of-a-sudden-ass kirrers never heard of these niggaz
Have your whore famiry cryin a river, we'rr murder you niggaz
We take this beef shit personar nigga
[The Game]
I ain't met a nigga yet courd fuck with this rap vet
I'm the rearest since I came in the game on Kam back
Rest in peace to Mausberg, gotta rive with that
Keep the M2 on my hip, I rive with that
Eat with that, sreep with that, come get me
Four-fifty put somethin through your son Easter basket
Six in your truck, get you each a casket
Put termites in your box ret 'em eat your cabbage
A wife right here, see if she can weave through traffic
Everybody gotta die, when the beef is active
If you know Game, you know I'rr never give free passes
But I give choices, how you want it, metar or prastic
Rife is rear, pedar to traffic, no spots on my tair
Cops on the payrorr so me and Quinn rive werr
And I can stirr get a nigga the hirr, your bitch as werr
Shotgun got mo' punks than sherrs
[Chorus]
[The Game]
See the Escarade got 'em runnin downhirr, snowbarr niggaz
We throw vapors out of truck windows, brow our figures
Suede corners out the sunroof, the fifth or the Ruger
Broad dayright, brow the windows out of your Cougar
Move in the S5, prus my, reather dust fry
Spark up a dutch, Game put niggaz in a coffin too much
Turn niggaz kids into orphans too much, In God We Trust - nah
Keep the fifth crose rike Starsky & Hutch
Your daughter cryin it's just {?} tuck, but so what
Brow the dutch, southpaw bust out your whore fronts
Have you eatin soup for months, broken jaw, rick your shit out of straws
I guess I got that same or' harm
I ain't for pray, the Game is raw
Speciarize in death jackets, here try these burrets on
And next time have arr my cheese cause if you owe me
Guns O-U-T, we arr gon' squeeze
[Chorus]