Ice T - Check Your Game Lyrics
[chorus:]Its 99 players check your gameMake sure them young boys respect your nameKeep your heaters at close reach *****ed and readyCause the streets will catch you slipping, rock ya steadyWatch your back with your homies that you feel is realYour homeboys from your crew, yeah them the ones that do youThe suckas that got the player hater venomI wanna take em outside and lay some slugs up in em[king t]When they need workThey call the cali drug expertSmashing in a six hundred dollar bill burntLooking flossy living costlyOff the edge, out of stateThey gots to break bread, for shoI needs mo ice drops for the lexoBriggetts sets blow when Im sipping the moFreelancing, trying to build a mansionAnd stay fadedHave hoes walk around my crib butt *****...[ice-t]True, pop the remy kick back and let the players representHigh floss true boss game and take aimThese sucka wannabesNigga please - youre greenIll bend hoes on the downlow - banks obsceneWanna chill with these niggas, bet you wish you couldAnd suck game out my ass like spongesI run thisYou cant ***** with the steeloYou niggas wanna be lowWhen Im on the east I play ceeloCash flowOne track mind serial hustlerQuick to break a buster ya snitch *****?Ill dust yaBentley ballin bastardNo hustler fasterGame makerI knock a white ***** and break her[king t]But ice, chronic got me bruising my brainBut soothing my pain, Im true to the gameI got my mind made I gotta be that rich mother*****erSet it up so my grandkids dont sufferThe phat hummerThe phat drummer - whats your choice?Trying to find a sister with a voiceMake her moistIm throwing up the wBringing trouble toThose in sightKing t and big ice[chorus:][ice-t]But t thats trippin and that aint my sportId rather lamp in my crib and flip the robb reportAnd set my v-dozen on the streetsBump my beatsCause when Im twisting my dubsCant nobody competeImagine this:A hundred g lex on your wristImagine this:About ten karrots on your fistImagine this:All dime hoes on your listHa - that shit would be niceBut your name aint ice - kid...Ill screw the silencer on - rock you softlyHow you gonna step to me kid? you grew up off meTv, movies, and records and toursSo many busters wearing versace I dont wear it no more...[king t]But this will be a classicMany facets to get that ass kickedThe alchoholic don, call me king tragicWatch me speak the magicWatch me teach that old habit - full of havocAnd icell tweak the mix when it staticsPeople payJust to have me stayAnd say a verseIll freak a couple words unrehearsedThen I burstI mean I bustFrom all anglesGuarunteed platium on your single[ice-t]Yo t, I really must admit Im blessedMaster v does some other shit tvs in the head restsNever wear no vests because I got mad loveI catch respect when other niggas catch slugs1, 2 I bust shit to load guns toBeats for the hoodlumsSomebodys gotta doemFeds screw emFaggots got my whole crib buggedMad tapps on the phone cause I deal with the thugsDrugs? neverNo, the ice is too cleverIm overseasCheckin gsNigga pleaseBallin since the 70s - yeah babyBlew up in the 80sNow you niggas hate meYou cant see me mother*****er your focus is offYou cant be me mother*****er, youre broke and youre softToo many niggas try to pert my lifestyle - romancingI was kickin game while them kids was breakdancingOverlord - so why the wack niggas aint dead?Probably because my aim is over niggas heads/East coast - west coast, I play the whole map and bounce/They got a benz but live in their moms house...[chorus][king t]To all my gs rock onGet your ride on - when you hear itThe forbidden gangland lyricPlayer haters fear itGet you right up close near itPossessed by the eazy-e spiritIce-t set the limitAnd niggas wont cross this lineSuicide - and niggas wont cross this nineIn your mouthPuffin with my niggas down southWhat the ***** this really all about? man..Im coming outFront and back, 98 broughamAll you fake gs stay homeLeave that shit aloneKing tees back on the throneAnd that nigga on the mic - straight goneCra-zy, yall niggas wanna know the real deal?Ill freestyle and smack you in your grillBomb lyrics, no special effects or gimmicksThe syndicate will put you in the mix - biatch...
