• Title:Bulletproof Diaries
  • Artist:The Game (feat. Raekwon)
  • Album:L.A.X.
  • KaraokeRate:1★
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    [00:-04.00]The Game - Bulletproof Diaries (feat. Raekwon)
    [00:-01.00]
    Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
    Uh-huh, yeah
    Sit my alligator jacket on the flo'
    Let that shit crawl around, whattup Game?
    How are you my nigga?
    Let's get this money, you heard?
    Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
    My killas gorillas, niggaz couldn't see 'em with gazelles
    Frontin ass niggaz, go hang with Pharrell
    Tryin to be a (Cowboy), you catch bullets like Terrell
    Owens, call it T.O., he leakin like a project sink
    Busted open like a hot dog link
    Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin prison thing
    Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
    I'm from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
    Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got (Killa Bees) (respect)
    Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
    Got a million dollars say LeBron don't win a ring (word?)
    I know Kobe, I be on the floor, "Kobe!"
    You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
    I got a (Cuban Link) to a fuckin O.G.
    And nigga you're too close, what the fuck, tryna blow me? (back up)
    This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
    (Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin ones)
    Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ'
    (Big sharks) Me too (swimmin in a pile of ones)
    Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
    Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
    In the Bronx
    This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
    Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin warm)
    (Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
    I'ma keep it (Compton) Staten ('til the day is done)
    Geah, frontin on us nigga, it's like
    It's like racin a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
    You gon' fuck around and get your head burnt
    I'm a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
    Hip-Hop's never dead, the (Cuban) gave 'em heart attacks
    Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the V's
    Sneeze wrong, course I'm clappin
    Keep it movin homeboy, the mac's always actin
    Spit in your face, go 'head lil' baby rappers
    Can't fuck with us convicts, Stat-land
    It's like actions, cliques'll die right with traction
    It's Wall Street money and two gunny's
    Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
    Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
    Blow your head off like lunch meat
    Chef in the game run the country
    Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin
    Fuck with they paper their gun squeezin
    Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season
    Yo, man yo Game man
    Let these niggaz know man f'real man
    We official man
    They wan' be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?
    (Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
    I'd be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
    (Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
    West coast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
    My style's smokin like, after a glock spit
    Game get the blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris'
    Style like it's New Year's, cause this a new year
    Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
    The Benjamins won't stop, and neither would a chrome glock
    I kill a fire-breathin dragon with a dome shot
    Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
    We had a meetin before we got here, and shit gon' pop
    Heads gon' roll, Patron gon' spill
    Fitted caps gettin peeled like the chrome on the wheels
    Got a half a mil', sing your wounds won't heal
    I declare war, nigga who gon' deal?
    Yeah, y'all know what time it is man
    "Bulletproof Diary" nigga, for real
    Many may read this man
    A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
    We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
    All them real general niggaz man
    All them niggaz that's out there man
    Don't get no rest or none of that man, for real
    The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
    I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
    You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
    Get a lot of bread man, word up, hun'ned my nigga
    We take you to Boca Chica or some'n man, knahmsayin?
    Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or some'n, y'knahmsayin?
    With two foul rings on, y'knahmsayin?
    Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
    Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
    Niggaz ain't seen them colors man