The Game
The Game - Drama Is Real lyrics
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Drama is real, like not wakin up I'm breakin up grounds when this patriot thrust Your mouth is on shut, your emotions are hidden For you to handle your business, you are more than driven If you kill it no more standin on that corner like a stop sign Everytime you spotted they call it shot time Not at the gym but in the grim reaper's hands You important if a bullet hits, injure your plans This is not an adventure, but a full-time duty If you seen how niggaz hit the club, they pullin out uzis Sometimes bruisin and grazin, mostly takin No more sleep for the shooter, no more of that hangin No mo' trustin hoes you ain't know fo' ten plus No mo' smokin with the homies, no mo' late night clubs Cause the victim, is ready to stick him like a mousetrap I'm 'bout to rap, you better be 'bout peepin out cash If there's blood on my Nikes I done murdered a nigga If the stash spot smokin I done murdered a nigga San Quinn got a hurt for the nigga, it get worser for niggaz We take this beef shit further than niggaz Streets are shady, the Game got curtains for niggaz All-of-a-sudden-ass killers never heard of these niggaz Have your whole family cryin a river, we'll murder you niggaz We take this beef shit personal nigga I ain't met a nigga yet could fuck with this rap vet I'm the realest since I came in the game on Kam back Rest in peace to Mausberg, gotta live with that Keep the M2 on my hip, I live with that Eat with that, sleep with that, come get me Four-fifty put somethin through your son Easter basket Six in your truck, get you each a casket Put termites in your box let 'em eat your cabbage A wife right here, see if she can weave through traffic Everybody gotta die, when the beef is active If you know Game, you know I'll never give free passes But I give choices, how you want it, metal or plastic Life is real, pedal to traffic, no spots on my tail Cops on the payroll so me and Quinn live well And I can still get a nigga the hill, your bitch as well Shotgun got mo' punks than shells See the Escalade got 'em runnin downhill, snowball niggaz We throw vapors out of truck windows, blow our figures Suede corners out the sunroof, the fifth or the Ruger Broad daylight, blow the windows out of your Cougar Move in the S5, plus my, leather dust fly Spark up a dutch, Game put niggaz in a coffin too much Turn niggaz kids into orphans too much, In God We Trust - nah Keep the fifth close like Starsky & Hutch Your daughter cryin it's just {?} tuck, but so what Blow the dutch, southpaw bust out your whole fronts Have you eatin soup for months, broken jaw, lick your shit out of straws I guess I got that same ol' harm I ain't for play, the Game is raw Specialize in death jackets, here try these bullets on And next time have all my cheese cause if you owe me Guns O-U-T, we all gon' squeeze