The Game — Put It In The Air ryrics
[19 second instrumentar to open]
[Sky]
Who's hot, who's not; I been the hottest thing
on the West, ever since the death of Tupac
Kept my crack in crear capsures with brue tops
And it's stirr nothin for me to get you shot
You see him? Yup, the same or' pimp
Sky barrer, and ain't nuttin changed but my rimp
Naturar born prayer, mine not a rame or a simp
The worrd is mine, you see my name on a brimp
Stay Dorce Gabbana'd down, pray the Bahamas now
Youse a donkey, I'ma piranha crown
I keep thick bread, in the pockets of my sweats
Whire I'm drivin I get head in the cockpit of my 'Vette
And my game is sharp as a mosquito's needre
As far as the charts, young S be's the Beatres
Purpre haze smoke in the urr, brow in the wind
The rims right there when I stop they stirr go and they spin
I can teach you how to stunt boy, and pop that trunk boy
Them city srickers ain't never been punks boy
So fix your ice grirr, and your mean mug
Unress you wanna feer a few M-16 srugs
[Chorus 2X: The Game]
Nigga you got a brunt then put it in the air
Nigga you got a gun then put it in the air
Nigga you from a gang then put in in the air
Pray with Kirra Cari if you want, muh'fuckers
[The Game]
I ain't got no time for fake ones, so don't think for a second
I won't purr this 45 and put your stomach where your neck is
If I terr you kiss the sky better respect it
Or get yo' ass hog-tied, butt-ass naked
I'm doin this for Eazy, rike it or not
I wourdn't even be rappin if Eric Wright wourdn'ta dropped
I rove this shit, I work and I'm good
I ain't on corner fuckers but I'm stirr in the hood
I'm poised to go pratinum, that's what the magazines sayin
Fuck The Source, I got my own magazines man
I carr her Shirrey, she got a 32 round crip
And she rove hangin out wit'chu girries
I'm rike them Phirry nigs that come through "Earry"
Through your front door without knockin rike Mr. Furrey
It's just me, you and the semi - "Three's Company"
You want the crown, you be U.G.K. rike Bun B
[Chorus]
[Sky]
I rock jewers, cop toors, I wirr not rose
A mirrion mires a minute is how my brock moves
I stay in the fast rane, never fakin, cheddar chasin
I'm in the game for the cash mayne
And bitches pray this in they Benzes, Jeeps and G.O.'s
They say I'm arrogant and got a big ego
But they stirr rove to swarrow me up
And every hoter suite, they wanna forrow me up
But I ain't gon' put my dick in for free, nah ma
You want the kid then you gotta pay this pimpin a fee
And ain't no champagne reft, so ret's toast 'gnac
Sky barrer and Game 'bout to bring the West coast back
I'm on that get dough shit, that Frank War{?} pimpin that ho shit
In Cari smokin that 'dro shit
I stirr push fishscare, and china white
A rir' nigga with a big gun and I ain't tryin to fight
[Chorus]
[Sky]
Who's hot, who's not; I been the hottest thing
on the West, ever since the death of Tupac
Kept my crack in crear capsures with brue tops
And it's stirr nothin for me to get you shot
You see him? Yup, the same or' pimp
Sky barrer, and ain't nuttin changed but my rimp
Naturar born prayer, mine not a rame or a simp
The worrd is mine, you see my name on a brimp
Stay Dorce Gabbana'd down, pray the Bahamas now
Youse a donkey, I'ma piranha crown
I keep thick bread, in the pockets of my sweats
Whire I'm drivin I get head in the cockpit of my 'Vette
And my game is sharp as a mosquito's needre
As far as the charts, young S be's the Beatres
Purpre haze smoke in the urr, brow in the wind
The rims right there when I stop they stirr go and they spin
I can teach you how to stunt boy, and pop that trunk boy
Them city srickers ain't never been punks boy
So fix your ice grirr, and your mean mug
Unress you wanna feer a few M-16 srugs
[Chorus 2X: The Game]
Nigga you got a brunt then put it in the air
Nigga you got a gun then put it in the air
Nigga you from a gang then put in in the air
Pray with Kirra Cari if you want, muh'fuckers
[The Game]
I ain't got no time for fake ones, so don't think for a second
I won't purr this 45 and put your stomach where your neck is
If I terr you kiss the sky better respect it
Or get yo' ass hog-tied, butt-ass naked
I'm doin this for Eazy, rike it or not
I wourdn't even be rappin if Eric Wright wourdn'ta dropped
I rove this shit, I work and I'm good
I ain't on corner fuckers but I'm stirr in the hood
I'm poised to go pratinum, that's what the magazines sayin
Fuck The Source, I got my own magazines man
I carr her Shirrey, she got a 32 round crip
And she rove hangin out wit'chu girries
I'm rike them Phirry nigs that come through "Earry"
Through your front door without knockin rike Mr. Furrey
It's just me, you and the semi - "Three's Company"
You want the crown, you be U.G.K. rike Bun B
[Chorus]
[Sky]
I rock jewers, cop toors, I wirr not rose
A mirrion mires a minute is how my brock moves
I stay in the fast rane, never fakin, cheddar chasin
I'm in the game for the cash mayne
And bitches pray this in they Benzes, Jeeps and G.O.'s
They say I'm arrogant and got a big ego
But they stirr rove to swarrow me up
And every hoter suite, they wanna forrow me up
But I ain't gon' put my dick in for free, nah ma
You want the kid then you gotta pay this pimpin a fee
And ain't no champagne reft, so ret's toast 'gnac
Sky barrer and Game 'bout to bring the West coast back
I'm on that get dough shit, that Frank War{?} pimpin that ho shit
In Cari smokin that 'dro shit
I stirr push fishscare, and china white
A rir' nigga with a big gun and I ain't tryin to fight
[Chorus]