Woorden: Frankie Cutlass. Politics & Bullshit. Games.

(feat. Roc-City-O)

[Hook:]
Games people play (I wanna know)
Games people play (why the brothers be playin' them games)

[Verse 1:]
Here comes the man of the hour
Never catch me fuckin' with cowards
Rock men from Thug Life to High Powered
Blazin' trees Chinese chicks to Lebanize
Across seas me and Big Frank be pickin' up keys
Sieze the opportunity to freeze MCs
Recognize who be gettin' that cheese please
I see you watchin' me like Whitenour
You gettin' power
Chickens gassin' you thinkin' your clique is as big as ours
Long time no beef on the streets
Ain't nothing sweet I still walk around packin' heat
You pose no threat you get yourself soakin' wet
Vibes from the mac and the tech
And what we be doin' chumps uptown we call them push ups
Pushed about a thousand grills shit is real (yeah)
I leave no evidence cat's ain't been heard from ever since
And officer, those ain't my fingerprints
Down low I'm scary slide to the back of this
City-O cash flow is miraculous
Mark what I say somebodys got to pay
My clique walk around sick like Doc Holiday

[Hook x2]
Niggas got a lot of games

[Verse 2:]
A-yo blaze something quick
So recognize who ya fuckin' with
I'm gettin' bricks runnin' with Colombians
While you punk motherfuckers starve on a block
I'm drivin' around spots gettin' mad props
Fuck standin' on the ave gettin' cash (what?)
That's all in the past I graduated fromt he class (yeah)
Every thug get a chance to be the man
I got mines and now this nigga's pissin' in they pants (ha ha)
They scared to death they know it's real here
I murder niggas if not I have them rollin' in a wheel chair
I dare a nigga to step up i bet his t-shirt his sweater
Have holes from my nine beretta
I'm not the one for the postin' up shit
I toast you up quick I have you floatin' in the ocean
I get down like that cause I have to in the Big Apple
Many niggas try to cap you, for nothin'
Niggas be frontin' for fame they don't know the game
All they want to do is leave blood stains
That's why I keep my gat cocked and steady
Like Teddy I keep it on my waistline ready
I'm deadly like Freddie Kruger but fuck the claws
I'm strickly steppin' to ya niggas with the ruegers
"I need my shit kid" that be rapidly repeated
The more shots the more my enemy starts retreatin'
So back the fuck up I'm blowin' niggas out the frame
Maintain before you get a bullet in your brain
I'm that insain nigga from the Money Makin'
All you niggas fakin' I'm a leave your body shakin'

[Hook]
The streets ain't no game
Rock City will let 'em know

[Verse 3:]
Now yo fuck the radio and fuck the airplay
I'm strickly underground sayin' what I want to say
It doesn't matter if I'm hurt or not
I'm a wreck shop my way and still get props
That's my word shit is gettin' real with these critics
They always talk about a nigga lyrics
I ain't tryin't to hear it
Everyday the industry is gettin' realer
Sort of like that crack shit being done by the dealer
Brothers gettin' paid under the table
Labels already knowin' who they want to be stable
But fuck it I'm still gonna try to bring the ruckus
I'm comin' through your town Ill Man with the Cutlass
I saw a lot of niggas fail oh well
They mad cause I'm everlasting like a Duracell
Battery don't try to battle me
My mentality is gettin' salaries is all reality

[Hook]