Get'em Lyrics - Game

Chorus (Flocka) 

Word to my haters, I don't forget shit, better stay on point homie don't fuckin slip 

Get em (x16) 

I hear you niggas talkiin, boy stop talkin shit, undercover man you know you on a nigga dick 

Get em (x16) 

Verse 1 (The Game) 

What I'm gone do when I see that boy, grab a bottle and BUST EM' 

Turn the fuckin music down then yell FUCK EM' 

Nigga actin like he don't wanna fall RUSH EM' 

Club is playin Lollipop but we don't fuck wit SUCKAS 

Take the Patron and mix it wit Juice 

I'm all in my zone and feelin real loose 

The bigga the belt be the bigger the goose 

I snatch up a broad and hop in the coupe 

In Compton where I'm found at 

That's where I stunt and clown at 

That's where I where I wear my crown at 

Tie my red rag around that 

I'm ridin in Ferraris 

I'm draped up in Bvlgari 

I used to run around the A with Puff and that nigga used to stunt to scar me 

Now you can just black card me 

Down Crenshaw Boulevard me 

Think a nigga went soft cuz I stopped movin raw 

Somebody better get a fuckin 

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Chorus (Flocka) 

Word to my haters, I don't forget shit, better stay on point homie don't fuckin slip 

Get em (x16) 

I hear you niggas talkiin, boy stop talkin shit, undercover man you know you on a nigga dick 

Get em (x16) 

Verse 2 (Game) 

That's my Patron that's my bitch 

T.I. be on some fly shit 

Now I can feel my projects inside my fuckin closet 

Daffy Duck and uncle Screw 

That's what we stuffin in them boots 

Put them bitches on the track, sell them hoes to Interscope 

Sell them hoes to Def Jam, I'm known for movin work 

Ask around I've been sellin birds since Gucci said BURR 

I'm a cold motha FLOCKA 

Red Diamonds in my WATCHA 

That nigga got a hot one 

Take a trip to the A and cop one 

That Lambo came with shotguns 

You prolly never shot one 

That Bent came in Alisha 

You prolly never chopped none 

Them bullets I done caught some 

Them bottles I done popped some 

So order that CIROCA 

Can't wait till twelve OCLOCKA 

Photos 

Chorus (Flocka) 

Word to my haters, I don't forget shit, better stay on point homie don't fuckin slip 

Get em (x16) 

I hear you niggas talkiin, boy stop talkin shit, undercover man you know you on a nigga dick 

Get em (x16) 

Verse 3 (Flocka) 

If you aint tryna leave the club leakin on crutches 

Than when you see a real nigga don't say nothin 

Bust Em (x9) 

This for all the niggas in the trap playin round the oven 

If you can't get em off let a real nigga touch em 

Bust Em (x25) 

Chorus (Flocka) 

Word to my haters, I don't forget shit, better stay on point homie don't fuckin slip 

Get em (x16) 

I hear you niggas talkiin, boy stop talkin shit, undercover man you know you on a nigga dick 

Get em (x16)