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La letra de la cancion Real Gangstaz de The Game [Chorus: 2x] Real gangstaz stand up, hold they dick Bitch niggaz sit down to piss, what type of nigga is you? I m the type to pack a gat or few Pull out and pop, simply cause I m mad at you [The Game] Y all niggaz see me when I m come through; and ain t no denyin that them big motherfuckers is twenty-five Swayin in and out of white line, six double-oh Deuce zeroes, I m feelin like the streets is mine Mines hustle, mucho dinero, heat s confined See more fall guys than Foreman/Ali combined If there s beef, I m releasin mine And I won t stop bustin til them Escalade seats recline The kid roll with a greasy nine, come through and blast I return shots like Arthur Ashe You do the math, ten shots, ten dead bodies Fuck bein sorry, it ain t nuttin but a gangsta party And I ll make sure ain t a nigga survivin Shoot up the ambulance, make sure it ain t a nigga there to revive him And the Game ain t tryin to win, fuck the awards So keep that little-ass horn, and that Neil Armstrong nigga [Chorus] [The Game] Trust me dog, ain t shit you can put in your rap that ll make you a gangsta, you a bitch and that s that Niggaz thinkin I retired my Chuck, put the gun back in the holsters Cause I weave through traffic in a roaster But that don t stop the heater from bangin, or me comin through Droppin all y all niggaz with three in the chamber Keep two mac-10 s when I m rollin, one in the changer One when I push the button s right next to the cupholder Dog we can get this shit over, I got ten on the Game Let s say that Lee Harvey crack ya brain Ain t gotta look over my shoulder, I m good with the aim Good with the handle and the bullet s good with the bloodstains And the coroner s real good with that pickup A1 good with the carpet cleaning, they can get the rest of that shit up Cause I kill like the hiccups, two at a time Put you niggaz next to each other how I do em in line [Chorus] [The Game] Come through in a big boy, leave the bullshit at home If beef cook then I m bringin the chrome If I die then I m leavin a clone; but if I live through the drama one mo time then them boys gotta dig When I think about who shot me, I listen to Big When I m rhymin on the road, I listen to Jig Bump Nas off that purple, sittin on the block And when I m loadin up them clips, I listen to Pac A semi with me like Eddie Murphy, got mo guns than F-A, B-O, L-O, U-S got jerseys And you might get em all in the face when shit get thick Make the back of your head look like Jerome Kearsey And ain t nuttin to do a driveby in the hood We ain t even got survival, but I ma still take that ride Bet my drink on it, bet my main squeeze mink on it Think this shit a joke? Bet the S-5 pink on it [Chorus]
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