Game - Bulletproof Diaries Şarkı Sözleri

Game şarkıcısının popüler şarkılarından Bulletproof Diaries şarkısının sözlerini sizlerle paylaşıyoruz. Game - Bulletproof Diaries Şarkı Sözleri sitemize 31 Ekim 2014 Cuma tarihinde admin tarafından eklenmiştir.

Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah
Sit my alligator jacket on the flo'
Let that shit crawl around, what up Game?
How are you my nigga?
Let's get this money, you heard?

Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
My killas gorillas, niggaz couldn't see 'em with gazelles
Frontin' ass niggaz, go hang wit' Pharrell
Tryin' to be a Cowboy, you catch bullets like Terrell
Owens, call it T.O., he leakin' like a project sink
Busted open like a hot dog link
Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin' prison thing
Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
I'm from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got Killa Bees (Respect)
Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
Got a million dollars say LeBron don't win a ring (Word?)
I know Kobe, I be on the floor, Kobe!
You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
I got a Cuban Link to a fuckin' O.G.
And nigga you're too close, what the fuck, you tryna blow me? (Back up)
This the face off (Respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
(Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin' ones)
Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ'
(Big sharks) Me too (Swimmin' in a pile of ones)

Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
In the Bronx

This the face off (Respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin' warm)
(Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
I'ma keep it (Compton) Staten (Till the day's done)

Geah, frontin' on us nigga, it's like
It's like racin' a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
You gon' fuck around and get your head burnt

I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
Hip hop's never dead, the Cuban gave 'em heart attacks
Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the V's
Sneeze wrong, course I'm clappin'
Keep it movin' homeboy, the macs always actin'
Spit in your face, go 'head lil' baby rappers
Can't fuck with us convicts, Stat-lands
It's like actions, cliques'll die right with traction
It's Wall Street money and two gunnys
Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my Red Monkeys
Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
Blow your head off like lunch meat
Chef in the game run the country
Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin'
Fuck wit' they paper their gun squeezin'
Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season

Yo, man yo Game man
Let these niggaz know man f'real man
We official man
They wan' be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?

(Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
I'd be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
(Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
Westcoast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
My style's smokin' like, after a Glock spit
Game get the Blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris'
Style like it's New Year's, cause this a new year
Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
The Benjamins won't stop, and neither would a chrome Glock
I kill a fire-breathin' dragon with a dome shot
Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
We had a meetin' before we got here, and shit gon' pop
Heads gon' roll, Patron gon' spill
Fitted caps gettin' peeled like the chrome on the wheels
Got a half a mill', say your wounds won't heal
I declare war, nigga who gon' deal?

Yeah, y'all know what time it is man
"Bulletproof Diary" nigga, for real
Many may read this man
A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
All them real general niggaz man
All them niggaz that's out there man
Don't get no rest or none of that man, for real
The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
Get a lot of bread man, word up, hun'ned my nigga
We take you to Boca Chica or some'n man, knahmsayin?
Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or some'n, y'knahmsayin?
With two foul rings on, y'knahmsayin?
Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
Niggaz ain't seen them colors man