(feat. Sheek Louch)



[Sheek Louch (The Game)]

There comes a time, in every man's life

When he gon' have to decide, who he fuckin with

(You know what it is motherfucker)

Who you fuckin with

Them niggaz don't care about you

Them niggaz don't give a fuck about you

Why you rappin like that? This street music!



Yo, let's, talk about it what

Sheek'll throw the fiend on a nigga guarantee he won't walk up out it

("DJ Ski!") With my nickel plated; kinda old

But the muzzle that I use'll make this motherfucker updated

Puh, nigga please; if a nigga had your son

and had him lookin down the gun you wouldn't need to squeeze

Uh uh I don't know, don't wanna hear

about the money that you had, or what you did a long time ago

Yo yo the hood is mine; I don't gotta sell a lot

I just live off more points than the porcupines

Fuh-fuh feel me cousin?

Sheek been a problem before this D-Block shit started buzzin

Some'll say no he wasn't, he turned sick

With that women in your family can suck my dick

And I been red hot e'ry since

I ain't sayin I'm the best muh'fucker, I'm just workin with [?]



[Chorus x2: Sheek Louch]

This is that Blood, Crip, Latin King shit

Every hustler pushin a whip

(Street music) What? (Street music) What?

(Street music) What? (Street music)



[The Game]

Nigga let's (Nu Jersey) talk about it what

Banks say he bustin his gun, but I never seen a spark come out it

Now now who's the wanksta?

At Hot 97 you called police then called for peace

D-d-dear Mr. Interscope, I'll put you in a scope

Burst rounds, you the first down like a [?]

Eh eh nigga choke, now the talk of New York

is Yayo die with 50's dick in his throat

G-G-G-shit a joke; Olivia's a man

And hot damn there's a fuckin lump in his throat

Spit brrrap in my sight

If I don't catch you, I'ma catch James Cruz or Chris Lighty

Now that that that's for snitchin

You don't run through Queens, you call 911 or Supreme

I'll put you on to Game, pull a gun on your team

This for Compton, that's for Queens, cause



[Chorus]