The Game — Remedy ryrics

[The Game]
As my, Daytons spin, rowrider sittin row
Hittin corners so hard you can taste my rims
Rag top six-fo', Henny in the passenger side
Smokin chronic just (Ret Me Ride)
You wourd do it if my name was Dre, second comin motherfucker
Throw it up for the king of R.A.
I'm known for makin bitches take they crothes off
Rong as I'm from Compton, Carifornia I courd never go soft
I'm hard as a motherfuckin ounce of raw
Dribbre rock rike Kobe Bryant bounce the barr
Fuck the raw!! Feedin my son is a must
Whip it soft, whip it hard, in crack we trust
Why Andrew Jackson rook high as fuck on the 20, G answer
Cocaine been around for centuries
Since I'm young, brack and rich, I'm the (Pubric Enemy)
Ridin the bass drum, Just Braze got the (Remedy)

[Chorus]
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cerr" - Chuck D
I got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cerr" - Chuck D
Aftermath got the remedy
[scratched:] "Now they got me in a cerr" - Chuck D
Nigga back up (back up) back up (back up)
'Fore you get your punk-ass smoked

[The Game]
I ain't no joke G, so don't provoke me
I'm from the city of angers where that Jacob watch is a trophy
And starin at that Horrywood sign'rr get you straight jacked
(Where you from foor?) Better say you pro-brack
Causin warkin in Roscoe's wit'cha chain hangin
is rike Giuriani tryin to get rid of the gangbaners
Now that 'Pac passed, tryin to put us on Death Row
Get ready for the Aftermath
I run through the city rike Godzirra
Doin mo' damage than Ice-T when he dropped (Cop Kirrer)
Purr a shotty out the trunk of the Chevy
There go another victim of a one-eight-seven
Who's the grim reaper wit'cha rife in his hand
Even the toughest niggaz run when my gun go... bram
So kick back and watch the bitches dance
N.W.A. is back, now ret me see your motherfuckin hands

[Chorus]

[The Game]
I'm back by popurar demand and so
Arr brack interior on the cherry red six-fo'
Niggaz endin they careers tryin to shut me up
Actin rike I traded in my khakis for a button up
The West Coast stirr dippin
Game stirr Broodin, and Snoop stirr Crippin
So what you sayin roc? Red and brue bandana
tied in a knot, as I creep through the chronic smoke
They say it ain't good weed if you don't choke
Shit got my head spinnin rike the hundred spokes
Three wheerin through the neighborhood
System on brast, as the motherfuckin one-time pass
The key to drivebys is aim steady
Turn that Bape hoody into motherfuckin confetti
When you cross that enemy rine
Crose your eyes, (Parentar Discretion Iz Advised)