The Game Buddens song lyrics
Buddens The Game lyrics sheet
artist
Buddens - The Game lyrics
♪ Buddens ♪ lyrics
[The Game talking:]
we got a problem Houston, not Marques Houston or his little
rapping side kick, we got a real mutha fuckin’ problem,
and its only gonna be one of these songs, after that ima
knock your mutha fuckin’ ass out

[Verse 1:]
bitch niggas get put in the coffin with all that psychopath
talking, you listening to the source and I ain’t from
boston, I’m gang banging, red G-6’s call em’ how I see
em’, these niggas is bitches, and clue put this nigga on a
song and now its g-unit, and I came to get it on, you
ain’t hot, nigga you luke warm, ill hog tie your ass with
g-unit shoes on, you had pump it up that was a cool song,
you only sold 10 records nigga now move on, talking 'bout
you got ratchets and tools on when you was at the all-star
game with no jewels on, I cant believe I gave you dap, with
the 45 on me I should of gave you that, pistol whipped you
laid you flat, jump off buddens nah, disgrace to a yankee
hat, and its time to state my biz, only nigga pushing rock
in jersey is jason kidd, you a phony nigga I’ll erase your
wig, have you running to the church like Masen did.

[Chorus:]
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens,
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens,
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens,
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens

[Verse 2:]
you don’t know me fool, to diss me on dj clue, I don’t
need no assistance to dig you a ditch, and any problem I got
I just put my clip in, you fake like janet’s titty, one
call 300 bloods in atlantic city, you bad boy then dance
like diddy, I give celebrity beat downs, I bring the camera
with me, on that mixtape shit you knew my man was 50, and I
keep something chrome in the tanish dickeys, smoke niggas
like a gram of sticky, and I know my way to harlem ill take
you to bransons with me, come to Compton you’ll vanish
quickly, I got niggas in the hood that’ll kill you for a
can of mickey’s, gangs in L.A. we never die, and we’ll
let hollow tips fly at Joe

[Chorus:]

[Verse 3:]
I drive through the desert storm kick up dust, red and blue
rags hanging out of pick up trucks, get banks on the phone,
nigga hit young buck, tell em’ we got a problem with this
dumb fuck, you was just in the city of angels in the W lobby
in the presence of gangsters, I’m the nigga that’ll beat
you with the stainless and leave you alive so you can run
and tell stain bitch, I got niggas in jersey that’ll hang
you, im a los angeles king with new york rangers, and you
lucky yayo got that beeper on his ankle, joe buddens the
true definition of a wankster

[Chorus:]

[The Game talking:]
this nigga try to act like he ain’t know what the fuck he
was doing, you knew what you was doing nigga, stop lying to
the fuckin’ people nigga, gone jump on a freestyle nigga
on that fly shit, try to diss g-unit nigga, and im on the
fuckin’ first verse, you aint slick nigga, I caught that
shit like a mutha fuckin’ greg maddox fast ball nigga, 50
get dre on the phone, see if that nigga remember what joe
buddens second single was, cuz I don’t. I took a survey in
the hood nigga, went to the projects asked bitches if they
feeling your shit, they was like no, haha, I went to the
hood asked niggas if they was feeling your shit, they was
like no, than I went to jersey, caught me a fuckin flight
man took my last 500 dollars man, flew to jersey, asked
niggas in jersey if they like your shit, they was like no,
so I said fuck it, ima take this nigga mutha fuckin head
off, blackwall street, aftermath, g-g-g-g-unit, you know
what it is nigga and you know where to find me
Lyrics credits : lyrics added by AmeStramGram1961
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The Game - Buddens song lyrics
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