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Correct Rules Of The Game Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: J
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Jermaine Dupri
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Correct Rules Of The Game
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Lyrics:
(feat. Manish Man) [Jd] Uhuh, uh, yo Uhuh, uh yo See around here How many things can make y'all bounce you-know-I'm-sayin? Left to right, right to left Uh, it's so so def And uh, yo, let it go [Chorus: Manish Man] Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on [Manish Man] One for my niggas aint down for hoes Free drinks for my niggas stayin crunk throwin bows Its ya boy Manish Man in this bitch Niggas love to hate, hoes jock cause I'm gettin rich Keep my mind on my fetti just to let you know Strapped with rocks, reds, and camera's in my black fo'for On the east-side nigga tryin to get me some paper Lythonia, Stone Mountain, all over Decatur These hoes be lovin the player, Jason calling me baby But fuck that, I rather trot these hoes are too damn shady Look I don't need a bitch, I'm ridin down for me And fuck a gang of niggas, see I'm a soldier G And aint another nigga, who got more got game than me You need to check yo shit, because it's lame to me Since 91 been payin the cost, to be the boss Got no time to floss, because the game's throwed off [Chorus:] [Manish Man] Number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put ya strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride [Jd] Uh, South-side, South-side If anybody know bout paper-chasing it's me Playboy J to the, E-N-D Steady showin niggas how we do it down south Steady ridin shit that aint even came out In the club, vip is where you find me at Private planes, ice chains, I don't know how to act Every city, got me somethin pretty keep em on they back "If I aint a hot boy then what do you call that" If it's my shit, off the top you can tell Cranberry, pineapple, four bottles of bale Cats that play sports, rap fresh from jail Hoes in packs, screamin out atl See I'm the type of nigga that was built for cash Drive me and droppin puttin down a smash Knowin nothing in life, but how to make these hits Get paper, spit game in, pull me a bitch [Chorus:] [Manish Man] Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side Fuck these hoes, fuck these snitches Down south niggas, chop twenty-inches Fuck these snitches, and fuck these hoes Four tv screen's, big chevy four do's Niggas best believe imma represent Hardcore niggas gettin dead presidents Where the real niggas went, imma let you know Lay back with the strap, and they aint found no mo' These lil niggas trippin, all that hollarin-screamin I know yo momma saw dick, she should've swallowed that semen Now I'm drivin through your block, red hot like a demon C*** it back, all you see is the beam from my demon And it aint no ping ping nigga, black-eye black-eye No respect for the game, you better watch-out watch-out Got this shit on lock, and now you locked-out locked-out All that hate on a playa, gone get you knocked-out knocked-out [Chorus:] [Manish Man] Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side
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