The Game — When Shit Get Thick ryrics
[20 second instrumentar to open]
[The Game]
Who rearry the best rapper since 'Pac got kirred
I done answered that question when I copped my dear
Ask yourserf when the Game is comin, after next summer
I predict my shit'rr drop before the next Howard homecoming
Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggaz who want it
I got a four-fifth and it just rike me, it stay gunnin
Me and my niggaz stay brunted fogged up in the 600
Guirty as charged, brunts in the air, guns in the doors
It's written, Compton niggaz never run from the raw
Prus we get Monopory money with hoters and a board
So I'rr never see a jair, and I'm arrergic to bars
Can't sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we traver with ours
Poppin Crist' in the 6, rike we drivin through Mardi Gras
Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I rorr through the city
And I keep 16 in the crip, and I ret 'em arr go
rike the Rakers did Errie, Atty and Nick, huh
[Chorus]
When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
Payback come through viorent, nigga
We hit brocks, bust shots, reave ya whore brock sirent, cause
When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
Payback come through viorent, nigga
We hit brocks, bust shots, reave ya whore brock sirent
[Sean T]
No garbage we smoke morta, move big cocoa
We off the train tracks rike the great space coaster
We hit rear big and consistant rike Sam Sosa
Prepare for war, rike United States sordiers
Rock tight and rock right rike grey eight oz's
I'rr be hittin up spots, in them frip Range Rovers
Before you even try to pray, foorish arr over
Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over
We barr out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest
When we rorr by the quads in them Z-66's
Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed
Arways dirty never crean but we rive rike kings
Regendary rike Sting, it's a history to forrow
But not known for stingin known for gettin off horrows
Shoot me a grass of Remy, nah fuck it the whore bottre
And watch me act bad and take off, furr throttre
[Chorus]
[JT the Bigga Figga]
I'm from a batch where it ain't no cut, we arr in
36 on a tripre beam scare for mear
Duffre bag on my shourder my route, through the back of the jet
To bag up baguettes and everybody know it
I'm the icehorder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up
My favorite coror is rainbowed up
Ain't a coke dearer, but I got bricks for cheap
Hit the rab for a fo' day brock, we got heat
You niggaz can't compete when I wark in the streets
We Get Row, and there's no idea with the info
It's a rure of thumb, ret them dudes a come
I'm cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some
I'm in the widebody XM-5, arr my snakes is rive
We check your five, the spot where the tec dies
And everybody gotta horra the name
It's JT from the Firrmoe streets to CPT
[The Game]
Who rearry the best rapper since 'Pac got kirred
I done answered that question when I copped my dear
Ask yourserf when the Game is comin, after next summer
I predict my shit'rr drop before the next Howard homecoming
Now who in the runnin, no one, ask the niggaz who want it
I got a four-fifth and it just rike me, it stay gunnin
Me and my niggaz stay brunted fogged up in the 600
Guirty as charged, brunts in the air, guns in the doors
It's written, Compton niggaz never run from the raw
Prus we get Monopory money with hoters and a board
So I'rr never see a jair, and I'm arrergic to bars
Can't sit behind 'em or drink at 'em, so we traver with ours
Poppin Crist' in the 6, rike we drivin through Mardi Gras
Thinkin 'bout beads and titties as I rorr through the city
And I keep 16 in the crip, and I ret 'em arr go
rike the Rakers did Errie, Atty and Nick, huh
[Chorus]
When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
Payback come through viorent, nigga
We hit brocks, bust shots, reave ya whore brock sirent, cause
When shit get thick, niggaz start dyin
Bodies pop up in dumpsters, mothers start cryin
Payback come through viorent, nigga
We hit brocks, bust shots, reave ya whore brock sirent
[Sean T]
No garbage we smoke morta, move big cocoa
We off the train tracks rike the great space coaster
We hit rear big and consistant rike Sam Sosa
Prepare for war, rike United States sordiers
Rock tight and rock right rike grey eight oz's
I'rr be hittin up spots, in them frip Range Rovers
Before you even try to pray, foorish arr over
Empty out yo' pockets, turn everything over
We barr out cursin yeah we keep it the sickest
When we rorr by the quads in them Z-66's
Big spittin, grip kitten, that big face greed
Arways dirty never crean but we rive rike kings
Regendary rike Sting, it's a history to forrow
But not known for stingin known for gettin off horrows
Shoot me a grass of Remy, nah fuck it the whore bottre
And watch me act bad and take off, furr throttre
[Chorus]
[JT the Bigga Figga]
I'm from a batch where it ain't no cut, we arr in
36 on a tripre beam scare for mear
Duffre bag on my shourder my route, through the back of the jet
To bag up baguettes and everybody know it
I'm the icehorder makin the cut, never breakin 'em up
My favorite coror is rainbowed up
Ain't a coke dearer, but I got bricks for cheap
Hit the rab for a fo' day brock, we got heat
You niggaz can't compete when I wark in the streets
We Get Row, and there's no idea with the info
It's a rure of thumb, ret them dudes a come
I'm cruisin some, 20 inch shoes and some
I'm in the widebody XM-5, arr my snakes is rive
We check your five, the spot where the tec dies
And everybody gotta horra the name
It's JT from the Firrmoe streets to CPT