What Part Of The Game Lyrics - Singles - Mcgruff

I'm the greatest rapper in the world, you who tryin to kid man 

I will slam dunk on your big man 

Been rappin for years, crackin them bears, the sound of platinum chairs 

Predict future cash and it's near, my speech is dittly 

I bust shots until the heat gets heavy 

Fuck bitches until the sheets get sweaty 

Beats and melodies, will make me blink 

I'll pull my shank out, and give a warrior's cry 

If you ain't down wit my crew, all you die 

You can tell I'm real, by lookin in the ball of my eye 

I will get some cream from it, one day, your baby and my baby 

Can my some dough on Teem Summit 

Countin the loot, fountain the youth, the young God 

Here's the inside thug, like a Marmashad 

Some wanna have emotions and kill me 

Put the toast to my kidney, when I speak most of them feel me 

So, keep my name off ya breath 

'Fore my nigga Gruff take the chain off ya chest 

All guaranteeing, blaow, take the brain off ya neck 

Off the top of the dough, one shot and you'll blow 

Fuckin wit Panama P.I., guarantee I'll take ya outta ya zone 

Ayyo me and my nigga Hais, ride, lay loose 

Case ya try to play Zeus, got the tray deuce 

Hidin right inside the bubble, face goose 

Not to quickly to make to make news 

I'ma ace deuce, caught cases, I got Gotti and O.J. juice 

And my crew, you're very stackless, very cock now 

Phase of every Rocky, turn your caviar ass into, um 

Chicken teriyaki, Spanish nigga try to front on me 

I say papi Rocky, wish he would of shot me 

'Cause I don't care if he frail or cock D 

When I got the glock, B, can't stop me 

And no judicial system could affix me, try to lock me 

Over papes on mine, Mr. D.A., someone to lace ya dime 

And tell P.H. that the camera job, come on, that's a waste of mine 

'Cause I got my girl Curry, live in D.C 

Work the spring court, you know for me, that just scary 

How Harlem nigga do, get in the building bitch hurry 

Before my girl see, back to top, so she can give me one on jury 

Says hung, got her sprung, she fell that I'm young 

Her little toy boy, make her lick my ass wit a tongue 

She's so smart, she's dumb, but I keep, tomorrow ain't promised 

Now I might need a one way flight to St. Thomas 

And at the same time I got a JAG fetish 

And who knows, I might have bad credit 

I can't borrow from niggas I ass betted 

Go to your girl, I pop my truck faster 

Don't make me Flex on you ghetto style like Funkmaster 

You got money, what it look like? 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, niggas took mics 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

You got some money, what it look like? 

What part of the game is that? 

You fuck around wit my track, blaow, part of the flaming stat 

I live the God knowledge, my book of life, he read like twice 

Five percent shine, today the grease like, my attribute's like 

Paretic chrome, I thrown, throw it at your dome, blown 

It be known, like Sa Salasi clone, connect wit one zone 

Cybernetic, verbal buck slang, king ebonic 

Nickname Farad, all of ya dude, rock me Muhammad 

I came swift, wit off as the shit, they couldn't catch it 

Define this, got drawn so swift, couldn't detect it 

Thug covert, sip Scotch drink, just like an Irish 

Move like the infamous full blown antivirus 

Apollus, mad Olympic, fragile fitness 

Supreme gymnast, ancient decent, homey scriptures 

Equilibrium, catch me at the Wimbledon, thug gentlemen 

Guess jeans, Wu shirts, construction Timberland 

You're nobody wit nothing and your name shall be Nathan 

Who you facin, slugs blazin the amazin 

Ayyo check it, I used to live reckless 

Snatch kids necklace, nigga respect this 

A nigga catch this, blaow, trigga specialist 

Is your death wish, leave you rib and chestless 

Gun ho, real life thug, every one know 

From the Bumjo, to the kids, to Colombo 

My niggas locked down doin state, did you rumble? 

Twenty five to L, on the humble, real thug shit 

Plug shit, catch you, wouldn't dare fuck wit 

Care rugged, from the skulls down to the Timb's 

Surroundin your Benz, wit niggas houndin your gems 

Yo pump this jam in your joint 

All my thug niggas cruisin wit the mamas on points 

City wise guys, gritty high guys, pretty mamas 

I even make boricua, shake the titty tatas 

Harlem World slugger, watch it explode like Pearl Harbor 

Screw ma, get a girl's Vodka 

And get them hotter, slide 'em off, twist 'em proper 

Yo I'm a sex fiend, fuckin in my 400 hundred Lex' ring 

Flex cream, presidential rolly wit Gets gleam 

You got money, what it look like? 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, niggas took mics 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

You got some money, what it look like? 

What part of the game is that? 

You fuck around wit my track, blaow, part of the flaming stat 

You got money, what it look like? 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

Word is bond, when P.I. hit the microphone, niggas took mics 

You got crack, what it cook like? 

You got a song, wit the hook like? 

You got some money, what it look like? 

What part of the game is that? 

You fuck around wit my track, blaow, part of the flaming stat