[Chorus: The Game + JT] Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang Compton to Fillmore here we go again In L.A. they havin problems, the Bay we pop collars Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles
[JT the Bigga Figga] They can't cop what the bricks'll cost But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss Leather gloves with the tips to toss But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss Smash down at the V.I.P. Street smarts is crucial for young niggaz in the CX-3 Drop Jag with the price to pay Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin like a ice capade Got the feds lookin twice this way Cause we shuffle the P's in different places that the {?} name Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real When you turn 15 get your stainless steel Whole squad been trained to kill, we official And switch to get rich now we after the meals Hard times got cakes for 3 When it's havin a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga
[Chorus]
[The Game] I got guns, guns, guns, guns Guns all over the club We in V.I.P. strapped, security know that 25 deep, guns up under the throwback That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq And more guns than the Nickerson Projects Niggaz don't want beef with me Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin shit but the sheets is free And ain't nuttin to shoot the club up You don't want drama in this motherfucker throw them dubs up Jacob got the wrists on chill And N.W.A. chain glow like the memory of Ill Will Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free You're now rollin to the sound of the Game and JT
[Chorus]
[JT the Bigga Figga] But you can't come with the rest of her friends Cause you know I'm a boss and won't play cause she short on my ends Make rounds from the back of the Benz With the {?} that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend The things we go through I'm beatin ya brains Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game While they knockin on the do' I get deep in ya dame Gotta charge you a G just for speakin my name
[The Game] I'm not eatin your chocha or payin for the coach ma I'm a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma 6 in the mornin, you stretchin on the sofa Singin "Ain't No Nigga" like Foxy Brown and Hova I fuck 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em fuck the both of us You know what it is, the gangster's back And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at I'm ghetto
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Copy to Clipboard: [Chorus: The Game + JT] Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay, our chains hang, L.A. they can't bang Compton to Fillmore here we go again In L.A. they havin problems, the Bay we pop collars Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop hollows, L.A. they pop hollows Compton to Fillmore here we go again In the Bay we pop bottles, L.A. they pop bottles
[JT the Bigga Figga] They can't cop what the bricks'll cost But we stay in the lane to maintain in the 6 to floss Leather gloves with the tips to toss But the money was made from conversation had to clip the boss Smash down at the V.I.P. Street smarts is crucial for young niggaz in the CX-3 Drop Jag with the price to pay Cause the bags was heavy my chain swangin like a ice capade Got the feds lookin twice this way Cause we shuffle the P's in different places that the {?} name Compton to Fillmoe man the game is real When you turn 15 get your stainless steel Whole squad been trained to kill, we official And switch to get rich now we after the meals Hard times got cakes for 3 When it's havin a bundle we break bread for the safe and flee nigga
[Chorus]
[The Game] I got guns, guns, guns, guns Guns all over the club We in V.I.P. strapped, security know that 25 deep, guns up under the throwback That new R. Kelly shit sound like Bobby Womack Black Wall Street in HURR, nigga where the hoes at We got sour diesel, three cases of Hypnotiq And more guns than the Nickerson Projects Niggaz don't want beef with me Cause they know they gotta pay for talkin shit but the sheets is free And ain't nuttin to shoot the club up You don't want drama in this motherfucker throw them dubs up Jacob got the wrists on chill And N.W.A. chain glow like the memory of Ill Will Relax your mind and let your drawers feel free You're now rollin to the sound of the Game and JT
[Chorus]
[JT the Bigga Figga] But you can't come with the rest of her friends Cause you know I'm a boss and won't play cause she short on my ends Make rounds from the back of the Benz With the {?} that kid with frog eyes with the corners to bend The things we go through I'm beatin ya brains Got some homies next do' and I picked up the Game While they knockin on the do' I get deep in ya dame Gotta charge you a G just for speakin my name
[The Game] I'm not eatin your chocha or payin for the coach ma I'm a pimp like 50, the nigga to leave you broke ma 6 in the mornin, you stretchin on the sofa Singin "Ain't No Nigga" like Foxy Brown and Hova I fuck 'em dogstyle with Billys and Novas With or without chaffeurs, I make 'em fuck the both of us You know what it is, the gangster's back And I keep my banger at where my chain hang at I'm ghetto
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