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No More Fun And Games

Three minutes my nigga, y'all know what it is

Just blaze! ("No more fun and games!")

"Gangsta Gangsta," that's already evident

Nigga Witta Attitude, check check my residence

Whether I'm Crip or Blood, homey that's irrelevant

I went to D.O.C., there's nobody better than

The West coast felon when he on that lowrider bike pedallin'

Somebody tell Eazy they still yellin' it

I'm wit'cha homey Doc Dre on the television

While these niggaz movin' peanuts like a elephant

I move cars like spinnin' rims

I'm in a class all by myself like the brown M&M

Not to down Eminem, I fuck black bitches

Fuck white bitches, nigga I like bitches

Them half-and-half Alicia dyke bitches

If the head right I might Air Nike bitches

Or put 'em on the track like Just Blaze

I look down on hoes and look up to Dre

'Cause ain't ("No more fun and games!")

[Chorus]

Gangsta, gangsta! ("That's what they're yellin")

("It's not about a salary, it's all about reality")

("I ain't gotta tell you this but one mo' time..")

("Leroy!") (" now pay attention")

I'm like Dre, Eazy, Cube, King Tee and Ren rolled in one

Used to move birdies 'til I put a hole in one

Nigga that thought I wasn't holdin' a gun

And tried to ride up on me like Afeni Shakur's only son

Dre told me he ain't doin "Detox," this his only run

Ma$e comin' back, and Hovi done

I'm surrounded by legends, sittin' at the round table

I am The Game, and still niggaz tryin' to play dude

I'm +Ruthless+, I ain't talkin' 'bout the label

I'll hook niggaz up, and I don't mean free cable

I mean I'll hook niggaz up to them IV's

The same way Dre hooked me up to Iovine

I'm from the gutter, grew up in public housing

On the same block with a +Shaq+ like Yao Ming

So if a nigga every try to Jerry Heller me

Tell Dre put up a mill', cause that's what my bail'll be

Gangsta, gangsta! ("That's what they're yellin'")

("It's not about a salary, it's all about reality")

("Nigga I just came out the hole, I done did my time")

("Nigga what you know about time?")

I've been rappin for one year, one month, seventeen days

Thirteen hours, twenty eight minutes, then I met Dre

Thirty minutes after I bought the new Em

That was November 18th, 3:09 PM

Around the same time, "Wanksta" got it's first spin

That was thirty two weeks before they signed Rakim

Eight months, thirteen days before I knew where Mike lived

And three years after Mason Betha turned his mic in

I started writin twenty two months and twenty weeks prior

To LeBron shakin Adidas for Nikes

I'm right here, six years after Randy Moss

Caught his first touchdown for them Vikings

Just one day, seven hours, 14 minutes

Twenty one seconds before SoundScan got printed

Two platinum records 'fore I'm classified with Biggie

And two seconds before the song finish, yeah

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written by BROWN, JAMES / COLLINS, LEWIS JR. / BONNER, LEROY / JONES, MARSHALL / MIDDLEBROOKS, RALPH / MORRISON, WALTER / NAPIER, NORMAN / NOLAND, ANDREW / PIERCE, MARVIN / WEBSTER GREGORY, ALLEN / ARRINGTON, STEVEN R. / CARTER, CHARLES CEDEL / HANK, BUDDY L / PARKER, ROGER / DE VAUGHN, WILLIAM / WRIGHT, ERIC / YOUNG, ANDRE / PATTERSON, LORENZO / JACKSON, O'SHEA / TAYLOR, JAYCEON / SMITH, JUSTIN

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing

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