Daz Dillinger & JT the Bigga Figga - Game For Sale lyrics

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Daz Dillinger & JT the Bigga Figga - Game For Sale lyrics

[Verse 1] I'm from the home where the n***as push tapes out the trunk And make movies with they lunch money filmin' out trucks Independent rap movin' tapes like crack Got em' hooked on this West Coast rap, we got stacks Adapts and M-P-Cs and mic chords Thug sh**, something we on and fight for Bring it all together and start with group ten All the homies on the block is my distribution Cheap for staff, keep the heat and cash No matter the situation hit the gas and dash We got it locked door, copped mo' n***as from the block so You can't f** with this, we got scripts [Hook] All I wanna do is put my hands on some dough Reach in my pocket and everybody on the floor See around my neighborhood nobody knows What n***as might do to put they hands on some dough All I wanna do is put my hands on some dough Reach in my pocket and everybody on the floor See around my neighborhood nobody knows What n***as might do to put they hands on some dough n***as got game for sale, n***as got game for sale See nobody knows n***as got game for sale, n***as got game for sale See nobody knows n***as got game for sale, n***as got game for sale Nobody knows n***as got game for sale, n***as got game for sale We got game for sale [Verse 2] Show me right, I don't know whether rhyme or write Then hit you with the sh** ya don't like Me and my n***a's game be trunk tight We down to blast on sight Hit a n***a with the infrared light So when we see his family we know it's on on site It don't matter, young n***a get down evry night Holdin' b**h n***a wifey up for the right price Give me a couple of cakes and I'll the b**h escape [Verse 3] All I wanna do is get rich, stack my chips Slap a b**h if she think that sh** sick Only f**in' with n***as that keep it real in the game I ain't f**in' with you s**ers tryin' to hate on my name It's simple and plain, I'm sick in the brain Quick to explain, you know, I don't give a dang I'ma ride this motherf**er till the wheels fall off I'm a hustlin' b**h that can't take no loss [Verse 4] And it's Kurupt, the real close, n***a become ya folk When ya fall out over dope money and coke money Ain't sh** funny, n***as k** for the quick money It's real in the shady world of fake and falsey n***a don't dare to cross me I'm a j**el in the game And you's a fool in the game without a tool in the game End up catchin' a slug to the brain I warned you once Now them same n***as that's plottin' Is them same n***as you smokin' blunts with Hope you still while I'm sick of this sh** I spent a lot of nights tryin' to plant blunts for a lick Couldn't go through with it cause of a guilty conscience Many mobsters say they real but they really imposters Money I don't got a lot of, a lot of Get ya money and try to do right in the game Ain't about to the gang Walk up out of the game, we make mail n***a For the right price we got game for sale n***a [Hook]