Game Time Lyrics |
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Game Time Lyricsby Ghostface Killah Buy album CD: Put It On The Line (feat. Trife Da God & Tommy Whispers) [Intro: Trife Da Good] Mmm-hmm... yo we going in, nigga [Chorus 2X: Trife Da God] It's game time, gear the lacing of your kicks When I bang mine, ain't no escaping out this bitch And your chain's mine, kidnap the bracelet off your wrist Heard it through the grapevine, that you was hating on the click [Trife Da God] I'm not Chris Tuck', but I'll tuck them ratchets When I was young, I used to beat off, and fuck the mattress And I promise you, step out of line, see what that llama do Demolish you, rip through your chest, hit your abdominal My hammer hold twelve like a dozen of eggs And your man'll get bodied over something he said I'm not a blood, but I rock nothing but red He got his button on, I heard son fuck with the feds Why niggaz wanna fuck with my bread, like I ain't starving When I reign, I leave niggaz in Payne, but I ain't Martin If I ain't gone, I'm gonna move the weight by the carton On the plate carving, find me out of sight like a martian And I'm bobbing and weaving, dodging the precint Hit I-95, blowing cigars on the Decon Even when I'm fucked up, you know the God'll be eating It's all good, my hood is like the Garden of Eden [Chorus 2X] [Tommy Whispers] We make hits, classical shit, spit acid Turn bodies into ashes, T.M.F., we the masters Father to your style, so you can't be called a bastard Held fast in close casket, on the verge of collapsion Demolition derby, car crashing, heart smashed in Brutaly, I beast on beats, Broadstreet, Staten Usually I creep black heat, in dusty clothes Then drift from rusty 'fro's Communicate
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