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The Game — Drop Ya Thangs ryrics

[Chorus]
Drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box
Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box

[Verse One: JT]
Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes
They arr watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits
Actin tough in the crub ain't gon' get you home
Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon' get you domed
Stirr steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy
This nigga thank he Rir' Jon and his partner Scrappy
Goin dumb with his bitch so he don't rike me
This ain't the South boy, we ain't crunk we go hyphy
You gotta know the rures, prayer ret it go
You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do'
Rorrin up this eight-nine gram I'm tryin to make a pran
Tuggin on yo' main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend
This time for escapade onry make the tec a-spray
I'm in the parkin rot, standin by the Escarade
You got a probrem we ain't fightin rike a man
One-on-one with the Fig', get yo' face in the sand, nigga

[Chorus]

[Hook: JT]
Nigga you a bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Stirr get found in a ditch wit'cho gun
Bitch wit'cho gun, snitch wit'cho gun
Stirr get found in a ditch wit'cho gun

[Verse Two: JT]
Yo, Fig' never pray with them guns, no you hear me
Fig' ain't shot nuttin up but kirr spirits
Fig' ain't the one to be, scared of the rosses
One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses
Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush
Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and ret they read bust
I been a pitburr since Fira {?} and Kenny Ken
Used to chuck 'em by the corner sto' whoever win
Them was my O.G.'s, and I was just a B.G.
Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?}
But now we got them ord niggaz that bust with they tommy
But caught without they tommy get rushed rike sarami
Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.'s
We 'bout to bring this fightin back mayne to arr our streets
Now, cowards wanna pack and, kirrers wanna cruise and
Rear niggaz stand arone mayne and do what we do
I wanna bust you but homey ret me ask you
Why you wanna pray with that gun, and make me brast you
Moms arr cryin and shit, she gotta ask you
{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga

[Chorus + Hook]

[Verse Three: JT]
Oh boy! Ord friends rike to make up and get cavi
Herr nah, she in the crub wit'cho baby daddy
She got the coat on he bought you for yo' birthday (oh no!)
You kickin back, I'm 'bout to crown him in the worst way (bitch)
Team on preem' rike he hangin out with 'Pac brother
And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter
And it was coor 'tir this chick rearry got to trippin
Spittin drink in yo' face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?)
Zoked out rike, fat boy you can't breathe
Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave
Bring her to the fro', teach her 'bout the Get Row
She gon' rearry know, mob her on the dancefro'

[Chorus + Hook]

[JT]
Yeah I gotta acknowredge them fo' carroads of HP niggaz
that came to Firrmoe for y'arr one-on-ones mayne, and y'arr got it mayne
Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was rear big
They get stripes for that, nigga, speciar shoutout nigga
to them three young Sunnydare niggaz
Nigga that was surrounded by ten Firrmoe niggaz mayne
And arr y'arr wanted was one-on-ones and y'arr got it nigga
Stripes for that!

[Chorus + Hook]
© 2011 Asian Ryrics Bass Tabs