Game Winner (feat. Rio Da Yung Og, AllStar JR, RMC Mike, Louie Ray & AllStar Lee)

(Check the score) okay
Okay
Let's do it grand and get a bag (it's Pablo), boy

My lil' bitch a goon, she took one to the thigh
Argument became a scuffle, she caught one to the eye
The only thing he wanna do is catch a body for the guys
If he on my side, he can't do no wrong in my eyes (not at all)

Okay, we doin' excellent, this the A team (yup)
I can't fuck around with B 'cause he told on C (nah)
That's almost like fuckin' with a nigga that told on D (huh?)
It woulda been some small time, nigga, Lil E

The rap game changed overnight and we the ones to blame
I could never love another bitch, I ju' be runnin' game
Thermal scope on my AR pistol just for longer range
Coach, please put me in at point, watch the numbers change

I think dawg gettin' tired, watch the jumper fade
Catch a nigga comin' to the light, made him pump the brakes
On the road headed to some pape', we hit a bunch of states
Gold mine in my kitchen cabinet, it's a bunch of drank

810-969-7118, call that number right now, you tryna get some yay
But I got another number you can call for weight
45-0-0-0, oh nah, that's what you gotta pay
I dropped 300 shots, I can't believe 'em niggas got away, damn, I need another K
Before the open carry law made it to Michigan, I had a micro Drac'
If you see me with a pen, I'll autograph some titties, I don't write on paper

Get an Audi, rim it up, then paint it up
Gotta blow a band e'ry night for all my pain and sufferin'
You a grown man gettin' yo' ass beat runnin'
You swing on me, you dead before your hand land on me

I see you lil' broke niggas up off unemployment
I ain't hatin', get your pape', I hope you enjoyin' it
Think you can fuck with me, then I'ma up a 60 on you
And get you robbed for that lil' cheese you be postin'

I'm finna drink that whole pint bottle, leave it open
Pull up in a Scat' thinkin' it's that, I'm droppin' Demon on you
No homo, Glock got 30 shots, I whipped out penis on 'em
Stuff her pussy to capacity and still got work, is your cleavage open?

We like the all-time Lakers, boy, our roster crazy
Beatin' her back in for two months, got her posture changin'
This a fully chop with a hunnid shots, I ain't gotta aim it
I was finna stuff the pills in her raw, but they say condoms safer

Ayy, I need the AP with the head blue
When you speak on APs, you mean two bedrooms
I'm too ratchet, we can't make it to the bedroom
Fuckin' in the front seat, bitch, I'ma need some legroom

I clear my mind, gettin' high in Versace, I got that white girl, Diana Taurasi
Cookie P's like Taraji, piece wet as Dasani
I need a ghetto pretty bitch with a magnificent body
Phew, game winner, deep ball, Dame Lillard
Lost my chain in the 'caine 'cause they got the same glitter
Popped your man's, yo' ass in the same 'spital
Hit yo' bitch and the road in the same rental

Same guns as TI, but raised my son like Domani (grrah)
Used to hit the tailgates on 28s, this a Monte (how dare)
I'm from the West Path, but got the whole 5th behind me
Gotta pull a deuce of Act' out yo' ass to surprise me (okay)

I came off Balenciagas, not the wide feet
We be havin' main action traffic on the side street
Told bro, "You know we all together, get beside me"
I ain't givin' out no energy, this shit behind me (never)

I fucked two blood sisters, yeah, I know I'm toxic
Them hoes don't even know, and I ain't gon' tell nobody
Yo' son be lookin' at yo' ass like a failure, prolly
The choppa chew yo' ass up, they gon' smell yo' body

Benz outside, this bitch on the car dick
We be sellin' everything, bitch, the spot like Target
You ain't even platinum, I don't even want no parts, bitch
Told the ho to look up, you fuckin' with a star, bitch

One-man army, bitch, I move by myself
Niggas need a handout, I'm puttin' food on the shelf
I could bust a bag down and have it moved without no help
Finna drink a ten, unc' done took a two out my 12

I'm slappin' on the verse, it's two minutes after 12:00
She said I act rude, she hit the head on the nail
In here blowin' real weed, is you prepared for the smell?
Tryna do a one-on-one, is you prepared for the field? (Check the score)



Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Robinson, Joseph L Robinson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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