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Correct Bad Boy On Death Row Lyrics
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The Game
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Correct Bad Boy On Death Row
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Lyrics:
I welcome y'all to greatness You now witnessing a legend Real nigga shit Uh, I've seen it all from a crackhead living room Never get in tune with negative vibes Look in my eyes, 27 years of pain when I glance Thing in my pants, never ever came for romance Finger fuckin' 'til my palm hurt, I came with the plan I came with a Glock, bullets run out, niggas getting socked off top We were selling dope, like we was from the rock Off pot, hanging out the Cutlass letting off shots Bill Clinton gettin' head, you buggin', you think I'm not Donald Drumpf ain't safe on my block, gotcha your wifey at IHOP Your baby mother love that cyclops, my one-eyed monster Interrogations keep comin' back, shit feel like karma They add grams, now I moving with Benz, ain't talking Contra Verse-y, Lord have mercy on a nigga ridin' in the Mercy With some Hershey and she from Marcy The brain Bosley, nigga fuckin' no Bill Cosby Samsung, champagne spillin' on it beside me Laced in Tom Ford, hard bottoms in the lobby I missed the Met Gala, eatin' linguine with the best scallops Shit, I knew we was the best before I met Khaled Chasin' lettuce out here lookin' for the next salad I'm from the East Side of Harlem, I never stress valance Checks pilin', black shades wave the Tech smilin' Nautica trunks, a hundred blunts on the next island My neck stylin', 5 karats on the angel wings Aventador, Gold Daytons, its a Compton thing Don't make me switch whips, hop in the Ghost like it's Halloween Run up on a con spittin' ether like I am out of Queens Walk up on a nigga, broad day, take him out of things Leave him like Barkley, make him play the block without a ring Me and Dave, Styles and Jada, heroin and gasoline RIP to Yams, when we in Harlem cookin' collard greens I start trippin', it's like Future when he out of lean And I don't do construction but this hammer hangin' out my jeans And what you rappers gon' do when you run out of memes You can run on Instagram, but can't outrun the beam, nigga Dope in Michigan, Detroit Lions stamp I run it like Barry Sanders, the Spanish Meyer Lansky Hoodlum, my alliances out in Brooklyn We play steps like Crooklyn, follow the Lord, took 'em A hundred bookies, bettin' on Golden State Fiends sniffin' 8 balls as I watched his face go in that plate What he snorting up? Cuttin' wire taps, you ain't recording us Fresh pair of J's, and stilla fuck Michael Jordan up Go to jail, smack CO's and tell the warden, “What?“ My niggas at your crib, but your daughter underwater stuck Mastros, order up, Audemar, quarter tuck Baltimore with the packed pockets fat as Lady Luck East! Sour got me up in buildings like I'm Peter Parker Trash bags to the ceiling, it ain't no need for talkin' Keep your opinions, when I'm finished, you gon' need a coffin Out in my city, cameras flashing like The Beatles walkin' Knockin' Lenny Kravitz in the 550, ride by slow Couple my bitches slide down poles That Ace of Diamonds, King of Diamonds stadium now we at Onyx I see head in my future, called that like he Desiigner Nigga called his self a "Thug", but we know that he vagina The rap Jamal Lyon, pour heat, they call cryin' I'll crush your Empire, then eat your girl cookie You only good with the hooks, Hakeem, you fuckin' rookie Understand that ain't like nothing you ever see in your fucking life Bouncer at the club from my block you let me tuck the pipe You having a problems with your spouse, 'cause you ain't fuck her right I'm probably somewhere shopping for a house to keep my comfort right Lenox Ave to Rosecrans, First to Cedar Block Fiends was up early so I was the first to see the block East meets West my nigga They say Compton is just like Harlem, I know that's right Soon as I land in JFK man, had a fucking Had a fuckin' Uber take me to muthafuckin' mid-town man Pick up my fuckin' Lambo Then I'm heading to Harlem, 145th and Lenox That's where I play, Game nigga Pull the Lambo in that Amy Ruth's, they know me in there Gimme that corner table in the back Let me get that fried chicken That cornbread come out first, smokin' Real nigga shit, Compton
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