Rules Of The Game Lyrics - Instructions - Jermaine Dupri

[JD] 

See around here 

How many things can make why y'all bounce you-know-I'm-saying? 

Left to right, right to left 

Its so so def 

And uh, yo, let it go 

[Chorus: Manish Man] 

Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese 

Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees 

Number three, come down with your strap-on strap-on 

Niggas love to hate, so get your cap-on cap-on 

[Manish Man] 

One for my niggas ain't down for hoes 

Free drinks for my niggas staying crunk throwing bows 

Its ya boy Manish Man in this bitch 

Niggas love to hate, hoes jock cause I'm getting rich 

Keep my mind on my fetti just to let you know 

Strapped with rocks, reds, and camera's in my black fo'fo 

On the east-side nigga trying to get me some paper 

Lying throwing stone out all over the cater 

These hoes be lovin the player, Jason calling me baby 

But fuck that, I rather trot these hoes are too damn shady 

Look I don't need a bitch, I'm riding down for me 

And fuck a gang of niggas, see I'm a soldier G 

And ain't another nigga, who got more got game than me 

You need to check yo shit, because its lame to me 

Since 91 been paying the cost, to be the boss 

Got no time to floss, because the game's throwed off 

[Chorus] 

[Manish Man] 

Number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese 

Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees 

Number three, don't forget to put ya strap on ya side 

Nigga who ride who ride 

[JD] 

South-side, South-side 

If anybody know bout paper-chasing its me 

Playboy J to the, E-N-D 

Steady showing niggas how we do it down south 

Steady riding shit that ain't even came out 

In the club, VIP is where you find me at 

Private planes, ice chains, I don't know how to act 

Every city, got me something pretty keep em on they back 

"If I ain't a hot boy then what do you call that" 

If its my shit, off the top you can tell 

Cranberry, pineapple, four bottles of bale 

Cats that play sports, rap fresh from jail 

Hoes in packs, screaming out ATL 

See I'm the type of nigga that was built for cash 

Drive me and dropping putting down a smash 

Knowing nothing in life, but how to make these hits 

Get paper, spit game in, pull me a bitch 

[Chorus] 

[Manish Man] 

Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese 

Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees 

Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side 

Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side 

Fuck these hoes, fuck these snitches 

Down south niggas, chop twenty-inches 

Fuck these snitches, and fuck these hoes 

Four TV screen's, big Chevy four do's 

Niggas best believe I'ma represent 

Hardcore niggas getting dead presidents 

Where the real niggas went, I'ma let you know 

Lay back with the strap, and they ain't found no mo' 

These lil niggas tripping, all that hollering-screaming 

I know yo momma saw dick, she should've swallowed that semen 

Now I'm driving through your block, red hot like a demon 

Cock it back, all you see is the beam from my demon 

And it ain't no ping ping nigga, black-eye black-eye 

No respect for the game, you better watch-out watch-out 

Got this shit on lock, and now you locked-out locked-out 

All that hate on a player, gone get you knocked-out knocked-out 

[Chorus] 

[Manish Man] 

Rule number one, my niggas gotta chase the cheese 

Number two, keep these mother-fucking hoes on they knees 

Number three, don't forget to put the strap on ya side 

Nigga who ride who ride, East-side, East-side