Death Penalty by The Game Lyrics

[Intro: Fabolous]
For not being who you claim, you been found guilty
Two Counts of being lame, you been found guilty
The Charge of fucking up the game, you been found guilty
Real nigga sentence you, death penalty

[Verse 1: Fabolous]
Ugh, lets get back to this real shit...
We Ride no pump brakes...
Everybody acting like they the shooters...
Man, I ain't going for them pump fakes
These niggas is crumb cakes
Wish they would say something snake
Get banged on like a chump who makes
The dumb mistake of tryna jump with Blake
These niggas in my lane
Lob City in these streets
Jesus piece on my chain, need god with me in these streets
I went through hell just to get where heaven is
Lucy in that red dress looking devilish
Scale to 1 to 10 she looking elevenish
If she ain't riding shotty AK-47 this
Shorty came to me when she left her man
I looked at her and said you something else
But the best way to get over somebody, is gettin' under someone else
On that note im in that (WOAH)
1,2,3 pin that (WOAH)
They be telling me im the best
I be yelling 'I been that'(NICE)
In the club half a pill and a full clip
Get a deal on the ROSE no BULLshit
[Verse 2: Game]
Derrick Rose ghost, im in that muthafucka like pac-man
Niggas talking bout robbin', I ain't goin' for that batman
King of Diamonds like super sunday, hundred thou for that lap dance
See straight through you pussy niggas, I call that a Cat scan
On that note we in here, peach ciroc pronto
My gun throw bullets like Peyton Manning
My chick walk around with that Bronco
Extended clip in that console
Two mill for that condo
We gon shoot for that green, (WOAH) I ain't talking no Rondo
Nigga tryna say that I ain't a G...
I pointed at him said 'you something else'
See these basketball wives all around my table...
We bout to swim through em like Mike Phelps
Now pop open that ten pack
Your life savings I spent that
Niggas spamming my Instagram, begging me for they bitch back
Sending threats to my DM, tryna hack my email
Niggas whispering to they self all huddled up like females
Yo bitch bout to get detailed (WOAH)
I ain't sparing no details (WOAH)
She choked up like Sprewell
I drop her off in that V-12 (NICE)
Ridin round with that Houston Rocket
Keep all of that Jeremy Lin shit in pocket
[Hook: Eric Bellinger]
For not being who you claim, you get found guilty
TWo accounts up in yo name, you get found guilty
Charged with fucking up the game, you get found guilty
Real nigga sentence you, death penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Charged with fucking up the game, you get found guilty
Real nigga sentence you, death penalty

[Verse 3: Slim Thug]
Im going back to Cali, Im going back to Cali
Im outta drank and dro so im going back to Cali
I need pints by the cases for this bag of big faces
Couple pounds of that kush, I ain't the only one getting wasted
Smoke a lil sell the rest, I'mma hustla baby gotta invest
Gettin mine plus interest, you niggas still ain't winning yet
I just sold my fourth bentley then I got that four door Porsche
Bout to switch it up for the summer
Thinkin bout that electric Hummer
Strapped up got extra armor
In case a hatin nigga wanna play
Everything I rap a hunned
You can check my resume
They dont make em like me no mo
They dont make em this G no mo
I dont see too many Gs I just see a bunch of CB4s
Lets get back to that real shit
That Pac, B.I.G., UGK kinda trill shit
East, West, and the South, if you see a fake nigga
Point em out
[Hook: Eric Bellinger]
For not being who you claim, you get found guilty
TWo accounts up in yo name, you get found guilty
Charged with fucking up the game, you get found guilty
Real nigga sentence you, death penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Death Penalty (HEY)
Charged with fucking up the game, you get found guilty
Real nigga sentence you, death penalty