Gutta Boyz Lyrics - West Coast Resurrection - Game

(feat. Sean T) 

(We gangsta daddy!) 

(Sean T) 

Yuh! 

I'm sippin on that 'notiq the color of Hulk man 

And the blueberry smoke got a nigga twerkin 

You niggaz is perkin - so you doin it big? 

You roll deep but when I see you it's just you and your kids 

I roll sick, my rims feel like helicopter propellers 

And my pockets run deep like a Mercer teller 

Haters trip when they see the whip dippin by 

The paint on it change like the I-95 

I'm just Clyde, without the Bonnie, I got the hollowpoint 

heat for you niggaz and the po' for the mamis 

Sean Gotti, I'm puttin an end to camraderie 

I'm lettin off heat, 'til them eyes get watery 

Some gon' ricochet, some gon' hit, y'all gon' get 'em 

Fluids gon' disperse out like refreshin club serum 

I'm deadly as bite venom but I'm far from a snake 

I'll hit you up on your birthday while you cuttin your cake 

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(Chorus: The Game) 

We gangsters nigga; you see the cars, the whips 

The chains, the fuckin broads we with 

We gangsters nigga; we'll come through your hood 

a hundred deep and empty the whole clip 

We gangsters nigga; we got guns for the beef 

And my niggaz'll put you under the street 

We gangsters nigga; so you better watch what you say 

'Fore I empty the whole glock in your face 

(Sean T) 

Streets is tough, but ain't no hopscotch lines on the ground 

Just burner shells, and police siren sounds 

Niggaz know who I am in the town; it ain't a circus 

But it might as well be, cause you know I'ma clown 

I'm a terrain boss, I know most niggaz envious dawg 

And if a nigga owe me change you better give me it dawg 

If you feelin like you wanna leap, make like a frog 

You niggaz lame, transparent like Wonder Woman's plane 

I'm a stunna in this game, a federal figure 

Blowin doj' in the hummer, 50 K on my fingers 

I'm like a NASCAR winner poppin Mo' and Bill{?} 

D-Squad don't give a fuck about nobody else 

I pull a {?} to contain your whole, clique for hours 

The end result will probably be, pinewood and flowers 

So I'll advise you deduct your QP's and powder 

We gangsters and we jackin cowards (yup!) 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

(Sean T) 

S.T. nigga D-Squad, G.G.D 

Don't get it twisted motherfucker yeah we do creep 

We ride out thug, shit we don't die 

We lay low like mechanics tryin to fix up rides 

A lot of cats say I'm sick in the head, when I anger it's on 

Poodles gon' be up missin or dead 

I chop haters up, like an old-ass sample 

Or creep through your village, like Stallone in "Rambo" 

I'm like piranhas on red meat, I'm on you niggaz 

You afros? Then I guess I got to comb you niggaz 

So break bread, when you see me dawg hit the flo' 

I'm like a nigga off the X, unpredicta-ble 

Imitators always hollerin how gangsta they is 

But got about as much courage as the Lion in "The Wiz" 

Shit I'm into pullin shanks on you fake Jake cats 

Me and my burner hold it down man we go way back 

(Chorus)