The Game - Death Penalty lyrics

[Chorus]

For not being who you claim

You get found guilty

2 counts of bein lame

You get found guilty

The Charge of fuckin up the game

You get found guilty

Real niggas sentence you

Dead Penalty


Uhhh

Lets get back to this real shit

We ride no pump breaks

Errbody takin like they the shooters

Mann I ain't goin for them pump fakes

These niggas is crump cakes

Wish they would say some snake

Get banged on like the treble makes

The dumb mistake tryin to jumpin with blake

These niggas in my lane

Lob city in these streets

Jesus piece on my chain

need God with me in these streets

I went through hell to get to where heaven is

Lucy in that red dress lookin devilish

Scale a 1 to 10 she lookin elevenish

If she ain't ridin shotty AK 47 is

Shorty came to me when she left her man

I looked at her and said you sumthin else

But the best way to get over sumbody

Is gettin under sumone else

On that note I'm in that 1,2,3 pin that

Baby tellin me I'm the best I b yellin I been that

In the club half a pill and a full clip

Get a deal on a Rose no bullshit


There goes ghost

I'm in that mothafucka like pacman

Niggas talkin about robin I ain't goin for that batman

King of diamonds like super Sunday

100 thou for that lap dance

See straight thorugh you pussy niggas

I call that a cat scan

And on that note we in here

Pink coroc pronto

My gun throw bullets like payton manning

My chic walk around wit that bronco

Extend the clip in that conso

2 mill for that condo

We gon shot for that green

I ain't talkin no rondo

Nigga tryin to say that I ain't a G

I point it at him said you sumthin else

See these basketballs wife all around my table?

We bout to swim through em like Mike phelps

now pop open that tin pac

Your life savings I spend that

Niggas fan of my instagram

Beggin me for their bitch back

Sendin treats to my B M

Tryin to hack my email

Niggas wisperin to themselves

All huddled up like females

Your bitch about to be detailed

I ain't sparin no details

She choked up like Sprewell

I drop her off in the v12 (niceeee)

Ridin around wit that Houston rocket

Keep all that of that Jeremy lin shit in yo pocket


[Chorus 2x]


I'm goin back to cali

I'm goin back to cali

I'm out of drank and dro so I'm goin back to cali

I need pints by the cases for this bag of big faces

Couple pounds of that kush I ain't the only one getting wasted

Smoke a lil, sell the rest Ima hustla baby

gotta Invest get mine plus interest

you niggas still ain't winiing yet

I just sold my 4th bentley

Then I got that photo porche

Bout to switch it up for the summa

Thinkin bout that electric hummer

Strapped up got extra armor

in case a hatin nigga wanna play

everythang I rep a 100

you could check my resume

they don't make em like me no more

They don't make a miss t no more

I don't see too many G's

I jus see a bunch of CP 4's

Lets get back to that real shit

That Pac BIG that UGk kinda trill shit

East West and the South

If you see a fake nigga point em out (point em out)


[Chorus]