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Change The Game

Let's go, bounce, bounce, bounce

Shit relax your mind, let your conscience be free

You're now rollin' with them thugs from the R-O-C

Sigel, Sigel in the house

Sick bastard, get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

Memph Bleek in the house

Still here, never left, still bust, more or less, still puff, bitch

Young Hova in the house, Jigga! Yeah

Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga

Hold up love

Every time you see Jigga man I'm rollin' on dubs

Don't forget about them blades shit choppin' it up

It's the motherfuckin' Roc bitch, who hotter than us?

Jay-Hov, 'bout to change my name to Jay Peso

But in the meantime, call me William H. though

On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine gunnin'

Throwin' it up like liquor on an empty stomach

Y'all don't hear nuttin'? Who that, mac?

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek comin'

Who the fluck, want, what?

Catch Bleek in south beach out of the reach of the police

Gat on my lap, yeah, bitch on my back, holla

Yak in my pocket, smokin' the sticky chocolate

Holla if you want drama with

The dynasty, Amil, Bleek, Jigga and

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who else but me?

Roc ears, Roc-wears, bandannas and white tees

Me without a gun dawg, unlikely

You know I keep the heat right under the wifebeat'

Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you can't see the pound

Got a little gut so gat sit tucked, fuck

I run wild, gun high, L.A style

Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb high

Whether block shit or rock shit

Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit

Get sig' any track I'm a spit the talk to it

Down south gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it

Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody spark to it

Every dawg, every blood in the hood, bark to it

Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody spark to it

We can smoke in here, put the choke in the air

Don't change the game for these hoes

Who plays the game like we supposed? Sigel Sigel in the house

Sick bastard, get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

Don't change the game for these hoes

Who plays the game like we supposed? Memph Bleek in the house

Still here, never left still bust, more or less, still puff, bitch

Don't change the game for these hoes

Who plays the game like we supposed? Young hova in the house

Jigga, Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga

I wear more bling to The Source and Soul Train's

More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a thing

I bangs the four-four in plain, daylight I'm deranged

Spray right at your brain, by the way this is Hov'

One shot Dillinger, one shot killin' ya

It's only one Roc La Familia

Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me

Matter of fact, the east coast fuck took it from me

Fourth album still Jay still spittin' that real shit

Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith

Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin'?

Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again

Ex-sinner, Grammy award winner

Ballin' repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter

Please repeat after me, there's only one rule

I will not, lose

Enjoy the lyrics !!!