Higher Lyrics – The Game
Singer: The Game
Title: Higher
It’s not that I can’t stop, it’s that I won’t stop
I’ll make it hot (I do it)
I’ll be on top, as soon as the beat drop
I’ll make the whole club rock (I do it)
Lace my Air Ones up, put my gun up
I don’t need that, I’m ridin wit Dre
Who don’t love us, every hood throwin they dubs up
Who the f#ck y’all thought was comin’ after Young Buck?
Hip-Hop’s worst nightmare
Mr. Gangsta Rap is back in black Nike Airs
You want war, we can settle it right here
I got a squad, E-V-E and Busta Rhymes yeah
Or you could give me ya b#tch, her with the light hair
Sit her next to these yellow bottles, yeah right there
Matter fact I’ll take you in the back
You in the hat, and you in the blue and the black
Let’s have a gangsta party
Somebody lean over and tell Banks to order another case of 40’s
Yo Doc give ’em a Coke with that
Wake up the West coast is back
Show you how that low rider bounce off the flo’ – You ain’t know?
It’s the motherf#ckin chronic n#gg# that’s whassup – roll that blunt
G-Unit, Shady, Aftermath I’m the motherf#ckin Game and
It’s not that I can’t stop, it’s that I won’t stop
I’ll make it hot (I do it)
I’ll be on top, as soon as the beat drop
I’ll make the whole club rock (I do it)
Catch you looking at me walking
Cause that the last time you see that
I’m back to reality where no TV at
I don’t want some cheesecake, but be safe
I need space at ease whenever you see me
I’m in New York through the Times Square and the B.A
On my way to B.K. with waving the briefcase
Laid out for three days work, moving on three ways
It’s work move in three days down in VA
Ain’t nothing but dreams and feens when we be at
OGs and young teens with no me, and your jeans
It’s your jeans, I play the background
Gotta keep my hat down, pushing them packs down
Still making those facts down, you n#gg#s get kicked nothing
Jacked up and stepped down, this is how it go
You bad now, I tell n#gg#s to back down
To pull a mack out and clap round
It ain’t where you from, It’s where you at now
Cause I don’t want the whole map round
So where you at, cause I’m scrapped now
I came to make you tap out
I found out what all that rap ’bout, m#th*rf#ck*r
Jamie Drastik, Prospect Music (Get ’em, Miami)
Up to New York, count it down from ten-ten
The 9, the 8-8, the 7, 6-6, to 5, you know the restless
Not waste no time, It’s just me and Fred
The rest off they grind, stop it one if you wanna see me
What’s it gon gon be, Mr. Ree Freddy P
You wanna kill it, let’s kill it, I’m riding with you
Sending you hope from many styles down there to get ya
Coming back up top for you to set up shop
Set you walk with a block, got a nice little spot
Statue of Liberty to Liberty City
m#th*rf#ck*rs checking for me like Diddy was with me
Sticky to icky, these chickies in Vicki’s, uplift me
It’s been a long day, but all day, I’m Jamie
Mr. Drastik, yes, here’s a best to yes
I care less, get that hating off your chest
Like me or love me, they like me to love ’em
Have me kissing #ss, so I get right with a budget (Woah)
No, oh no, no, no, that won’t happen
With or without your, I’ma keep rapping
Try to keep that door closed, I’ma shoot back in
Keep on acting, I’m back, man
〈Outro}
The South
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Lyrics The Game – Higher
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