Westside Story (Feat. 50 Cent)
The Game
3:441: Sap] Tick tock niggas time running out Damn I don't hear people run their mouths I swear we started with less than an inch Now bitch I'm running miles Know Sap got a hundred styles so who want it now Young K-I-N-G please don't tip me Only niggas who envy pockets be empty How could you hint tease Not hungry when I got phonies Trying to put me down but I remain in my spot homies Stop homie, this is a greatest of all time spot only Hit records on my old laptop does not arm it like fuck it Make new shit that make you sick Throwing shots and think you slick it's plain stupid You can't do this without being a barbarian Kill every verse my beats is where the bars get buried in I'm marrying the craft, each year I'm renewing my vows Every day a new bitch ruin my towels I was working the block Little nigga I was signed to the rock Not Hov and Bigs the [?] was big, my row was big Momma banging on my door, bitch the stove my gig Used to cook at Chef Boyardee Chop and roll up tree, enough weight to fit a new RV Never imagined my path would be to music Had a ball and a nine because nigga I could shoot it The bloods recruiting, USC recruiting All the while I'm in the streets recouping Got barbecue washing my coupe Fiends all in my coupe Banging Biggie "Bitch Give Me the Loot" Repping the letter B, they said I would never be The King of anything but the methamphetamines They was praying for my downfall Praying that my heart stopped way back before The Documentary dropped