Fuck Wit Me Lyrics - Untold Story Volume Ii - Game

(The Game) 

Yo, it's the nigga with the nasty flow and the clean rag six-four 

With the D's spinnin I can bag a ho 

Top down so my rag can show, whatever in the dutch 

Purple or orange haze it's just a bag of 'dro 

Hit snatch with my khakis on, Aladdin Lounge 

In Mark Jacobs denim and Don Magli's on 

I'm a gangsta and the birds they love it 

20 with a babyface and sit on base like Kirby Puckett 

You can't buy a Ferrari fuck it, cop lle' from J 

The bricks come with Louis Vuitton luggage 

He order rock and cover it, the dimes is free 

The quarters is 75, the ball is live 

Ain't nobody fumblin on my block 

We in the field like Biggs or Marshall Faulk, we runnin the rock 

Nothin less than a hundred a pop, anything less you a cop 

Shoot you and take your vest and your glock, motherfuckers 

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(Chorus) 

What'chu know about stackin G's; you got to come fuck wit me 

Puffin on sticky green; you got to come fuck wit me 

My team is just oh so clean; you got to come fuck wit me 

What'chu know about stackin G's; you gots to come fuck wit me 

(JT) 

I'm in the streets like the place is mine, told to cover my tracks 

I push paper to increase my shine 

I'm on my chief, jumpin out the wagon like Tyco 

And get the kind of paper that these niggaz'll die fo' 

Bossed out, camouflage under my vest B 

Motorbike, fast cars, broads and jetskis 

Rule #1, keep your eye on your cash flow 

Cause rule #2 will get rid of your best so 

None of 'em best show, ridin in stress mode 

'less they got petrol, pushin that Benz slow 

Pick up the Game, let's count some cash 

Then we, get to the do', then you put on your mask 

On some other shit, ridin wit'cha boy now 

We on the West coast, seek and destroy now 

It's like when Cal-Berkeley whooped on that Georgetown 

We had a riot in the streets fin' to blow now fo'sho' now 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

(Verse Three - unknown) 

The underboss, ill too fast 

Buildin my stocks off the blocks and the wears will sag 

Not Gil but tryin to top, the nerd Bill Gates 

From the city of project buildings and them mossberg K's 

San Francisco, West coast, Northern Bay, California 

Man it's Get Low so best to toast, or torch'll spray on ya 

Uhh, makin mafia moves, skate from the cops 

Yeah they tried stoppin ya dude 

But nah, the ball, it don't stop 

A shot callin if I fall then my thoughts gon' flock 

Yeah, underboss with Game and Doc Figgaro 

Clear {?} and I'm the in-di-vi-dual 

Holdin weight, in the dope state 

Tokin the 8-8, oh, fold {?} 

Watch our bread and our team skyrocket 

Visualize I can rip beam on the cash and not 8 guys can't stop it 

(Chorus)