The Game

Freeway’s Revenge

Leggi il Testo,la Traduzione in Italiano, scopri il Significato e guarda il Video musicale di Freeway’s Revenge di The Game contenuta nell'album Freeway’s Revenge. “Freeway’s Revenge” è una canzone di The Game. Freeway’s Revenge Lyrics.

TESTO - The Game - Freeway’s Revenge


All I ask is that you keep it real with me
All I ask is that you keep it real with me
All I ask is
Ooh, ooh, ooh

Cut open his stomach and stuff bricks in it
Put his body on a scale like it's fish in it

I can see a bitch in him

Twenty million dollar home renovation just to slit your wrists in it

Suicide, it's a suicide

Rip apart the Maybach, I know the truth's inside

You twelve lemon pepper wings
from a heart attack
, get this nigga Ozempic starter pack

Kai Cenat, hit the room, turn that stream on
Ask Buddens 'bout his brief encounter with King Kong

This ain't the Kendrick beef, my Drac' sing songs

Shots rings out, your neighbor better have his Ring on

Glocks swing out, doors open like a swing arm
Pac lean out, Makaveli with the ring on

Opps is out, they on the same shit that we on
Hospital wheelchair, head wrap, sling on

It's payback, punk, for the drama you tried to bring on
Maybach trunks, type of shit that we eat our wings on

My K-Dot shit, I don't have to turn the beam on

It's that time of the month, give this pussy somethin' to bleed on
Your baby mama told me that you liked to get peed on

You a C.O., that's the last time you had keys on

And we know you treat Gunplay like he a peon

And he know some shit that ain't cool for him to speak on
My P.O. said, "This ain't the record that we agreed on"
Then cut it off like the ankle monitor 'fore the beep on
My niggas'll learn French just to get they steam on
In Cali, with calicos
, don't need Khaled to get his scream on

We the West
, free the guys

I gotta free the West
I'm muy loco, I don't need a vest

I'm watchin' Scarface and cleanin' TECs
Shots gon' be direct, have you been through Cedar yet?

When cars pull up, we do explosives and heater checks
The lights flick, the dogs bark, and niggas sleepin' less
Under palm trees, we got them choppas that'll eat your flesh
The real Rick Ross know every bird gotta leave the nest

You stole your name, I pulled your file (Facts)

You looked at B.I.G. and stole his style (Facts)

I smell pussy, that odor foul (Foul)

You ain't sold no birds, you troll the owl

Draco flick, it's like the lighter on Tha Carter IV

Bad kid, good city,
I study the art of war

Run into that hand-me-down mansion and lock up all the doors
Stop with all that ravin', nigga, you not from Baltimore

I don't wanna hear about no fish tanks and marble floors
No spiral steps, no swimming pools, no hors d'oeuvres, no Audemars
No car shows, no pinky rings, no umbrellas in the car doors

Introduce me and my connect to that Colombian you chop that raw for
Was it fabricated?
The lies you tell are gettin' saturated
What happened to the birds in the Maserati? They just evaporated?

, that shit be too exaggerated
Fuckin' with a Compton nigga, get your head decapitated
Lit a Di
Caprio, all that cap like you activated

"I just a bought a hundred foot yacht, and it was captivatin'"

Congratulations, what an imagination
From C.O. to drug kingpin, now this nigga actin' Haitian

The stories these niggas tell
He gon' tell us he got a key for every nigga he got locked in a cell

He gon' tell us he just bought another crib, he livin' well
But he won't tell us about his health condition, he sick as hell

He poppin' pills, they startin' to fuck with his brain

Seizures off the lean
, Balenciaga shorts got shit stains

He not a mastermind
, he Gotti, line after line
Laid back in the Maybach, makin' up shit just to pass the time

He think he Big Meech, free Larry Hoover

Miami and Big Beach, now watch how I maneuver
I don't tippy-toe, I know plenty Zoes
that pull up in semi-trucks, hop out and let a semi go
So let me know, I let the boys in them drop Chevys go
It's humid in the 305, but they pushin' heavy snow

Compton grim reaper, I'll make you reap what the devil sow
Walkin' through LIV with the same eyes niggas had in Belly though

This ain't the new Death Row, this the old Harry-O

Game is one of them niggas, Bleu Da
Vinci, Meech and Terry know

So my advice is let it go, oh, I almost forgot
Fuck Belaire, it's West Side, we let the Henny flow

So when that muzzle smoke, and that thing hot
Even when the camera out of focus, just know the beam not
Run up on you, clean shots, look down on you
Flash on like a i
Phone taped to the ceiling with the screen locked
This nigga drug women; that's how your team rock?

And all that money you rap about gon' get you a mean plot

But in the meantime, I'ma let you fake fiends cop
And I know you doing your thing, Ock

But this is where the wing stop

Wide back music

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