Shade 45 Freestyle by The Game Lyrics
[Intro:]
Compton’s most
Countdown to Armageddon motherfucker
Yeah, Green Lantern, Alchemist, Chuck Taylor, Compton’s Most
Alchemist, Green Lantern, Compton’s most
Alchemist, Compton’s most
[Verse: Game]
Fresh Air One’s, one fifth of G-Unit in this motherfucker
Yeah, chronic smoke in my lungs, Compton, here I come
Don’t pass it, it’s a classic when Alchemist drums
I’m out for dead presidents, a new residence
City of Angels, the flow, God, is heaven sent
Straight out the hood, I’m the nigga to chase
And it been that way since the beef with Jigga and Ma$e
Gangstas move in silence, bark like Rocweilers
These niggas ain’t bad boys they are simply Dylan
Talkin’ ‘bout them wildin’, run with MC violence
Pussy ass niggas, them snitchin’ at the trial and
Get a nigga 25 to life on Rikers Island
Smilin’, ‘til I run in his house and start firin’
Dead on a nigga, who pour blood in the river
Me not use for swimming, just to wash my Benji’s
Uh, Teflon Don, ain’t far from Jamaica
Just one of the greatest at this trade round makin’
Homie I spit fire, yeah cruise by Satan
In a ‘05 Aston Martin on gold Daytons
They say I ain’t hard as 50, I ain’t gon’ sell
If I don’t move a million units, I’mma end up in jail
Get real close to the speakers, I got a story to tell
I went from the front porch to the cover of XXL
I took one in the heart, I’m ready to die
And all this Hennesy’ll make a nigga crash the G5
Catch me at a stop sign, nigga I ain’t drunk
I’m gangsta, I pop mine, leave you eyein’ the pump
Tie your faggot ass up, let you die in the trunk
I’m from west-side Compton nigga I ain’t a punk
Streets is talkin’. Is he from Compton? Is he from Queens?
Do he ghost for P. Diddy? Can he write me a 16?
My mom’s told me 50 got problems out there
But I’m a son of a bitch, why the fuck should I care?
And anyhow, I got problems of my own
Like which D. Eagle to carry homie, gold or chrome?
Fuck it, stuff ‘em both in my dickies
Then game like Sebastian Telfare
Niggas can’t stick me
Lemme hear you speak me, Banks, Buck or 50
I’mma run up on you, take your bank
And give you a buck fifty
[Outro:]
You know what it is motherfucker
Nobody killin’ the mixtapes like the kid
Fuck you nigga, you know who I’m talking to
Yeah, you don’t like me huh?
I got my swag
I’ll fasten yo’ ass up
Don’t make me stand over you nigga
You know I will
Compton’s most
Countdown to Armageddon motherfucker
Yeah, Green Lantern, Alchemist, Chuck Taylor, Compton’s Most
Alchemist, Green Lantern, Compton’s most
Alchemist, Compton’s most
[Verse: Game]
Fresh Air One’s, one fifth of G-Unit in this motherfucker
Yeah, chronic smoke in my lungs, Compton, here I come
Don’t pass it, it’s a classic when Alchemist drums
I’m out for dead presidents, a new residence
City of Angels, the flow, God, is heaven sent
Straight out the hood, I’m the nigga to chase
And it been that way since the beef with Jigga and Ma$e
Gangstas move in silence, bark like Rocweilers
These niggas ain’t bad boys they are simply Dylan
Talkin’ ‘bout them wildin’, run with MC violence
Pussy ass niggas, them snitchin’ at the trial and
Get a nigga 25 to life on Rikers Island
Smilin’, ‘til I run in his house and start firin’
Dead on a nigga, who pour blood in the river
Me not use for swimming, just to wash my Benji’s
Uh, Teflon Don, ain’t far from Jamaica
Just one of the greatest at this trade round makin’
Homie I spit fire, yeah cruise by Satan
In a ‘05 Aston Martin on gold Daytons
They say I ain’t hard as 50, I ain’t gon’ sell
If I don’t move a million units, I’mma end up in jail
Get real close to the speakers, I got a story to tell
I went from the front porch to the cover of XXL
I took one in the heart, I’m ready to die
And all this Hennesy’ll make a nigga crash the G5
Catch me at a stop sign, nigga I ain’t drunk
I’m gangsta, I pop mine, leave you eyein’ the pump
Tie your faggot ass up, let you die in the trunk
I’m from west-side Compton nigga I ain’t a punk
Streets is talkin’. Is he from Compton? Is he from Queens?
Do he ghost for P. Diddy? Can he write me a 16?
My mom’s told me 50 got problems out there
But I’m a son of a bitch, why the fuck should I care?
And anyhow, I got problems of my own
Like which D. Eagle to carry homie, gold or chrome?
Fuck it, stuff ‘em both in my dickies
Then game like Sebastian Telfare
Niggas can’t stick me
Lemme hear you speak me, Banks, Buck or 50
I’mma run up on you, take your bank
And give you a buck fifty
[Outro:]
You know what it is motherfucker
Nobody killin’ the mixtapes like the kid
Fuck you nigga, you know who I’m talking to
Yeah, you don’t like me huh?
I got my swag
I’ll fasten yo’ ass up
Don’t make me stand over you nigga
You know I will