(Peedi Crakk)
Yeah, don't even wet it nigga, I got this one
North mothafuckin' Philly boy, fuckin' mafia and all that,
State Property, Peedi Crakk

And I'm G.A.M.E., so please don't tempt me
Yo that 4-5 keep holdin' your boy down,
We'll leave ya in the live, put everything in the ground,
And I ain't tryin to brag, but the S-5 pound,
Keep shittin' on the ass everytime I flex ground now
I got my moms to thank, and her boy good
I kiss her 'fore I leave then hit you up in the hood,
A nigga gon' bleed and Peedi don't need good
And I'm G.A.M.E. so please don't tempt me
This one is for my hood, my gun ain't unda the hood,
It's sittin' here on my lap, my cap is under my hood, good my aim good,
My aim good I'm doin' this like I should,
And I'm G.A.M.E. so please don't tempt me
See big up in the hood, with see's sayin he low,
Elle D took a scooter he comin' back with the smokes,
See niggas in the hood nigga beggin a niggas up in there

(Lil' Cease)
Yo, I roll wit Peedi Crakk, I drink booze wit' Free
Smoke a pound wit Young Gunnas, plus I mack wit Beans,
That was Sate P, mad south Mafia Gang,
And them slugs go sting crack a skull in yo brain
And sing yo ass a lullaby, nigga mo' money mo' problems, mo' murda, mo' homicide
Bang, bang, Mafia Gang, we let the drama ride
G.A.M.E. so please don't tempt me
I'll pop ya cause I'm higher than paranoid,
Sometimes I feel like my niggas is hammer boys
Beat ya to a pulp, like Suge ya daddy boy
GAME so please don't tempt me
I'ma squeeze til' my clips on empty, empty,
Every piece of slug all on your Bentley,
So don't tempt me nigga, I gets busy
G.A.M.E. so please don't tempt me

(Beanie Sigel)
Well they call me be Mack,
But today I got the K, I got the S, I got the A,
I don't think you want to play, OK
My choppa clicks, hold a hundred copper sticks
And I'm G.A.M.E. wit them things off safety
I play the hood, usually up to no good,
Keep my vest on my chest, under my SP hood, I'm good
I'm layin' low and my squad are burnin' woods,
And I'm G.A.M.E., so please don't tempt me
It ain't no thing for me to swing around your block,
Wit them machines that go ahh,
Get off the scence before the cops, ain't nobody seen squat,
All they did was heard the shots
And I'm G-O-O-D, like you don't know me
Or know where I stand on ya, grown man on ya
Shot can on ya, play a block blam on ya, blam
And blast still all greasy on you,
It ain't shit to lay ya half a mil easy on you
You on them blockbusta, I'ma come block bustas
State Prop fucka, I know you cop sucka, cock sucka,
I see the bitch all in yo face,
And I'm G.A.M.E. to piss all in your face

(Young Chris)
Well they call me Young Gunna, but today I'm Mr. Chris,
Got the 357 wit the speed loaded kit, ya hit
My 3 5th, make you niggas shit and piss,
I'm wit the be -A-N-G G-A-N-G, yeah
My boy Sig got mafia boy sees, and Peedi gonna bring the Property more cheese, please
Who gon' stop it to drop it and say (?)
And I'm G.A.M.E., you-P-S-E-T
Peedi in check, Sigel in check, Sigel got the eagle, (?) got them tecks
I know Free Wizzle got his thizzle in his vest,
And we G.A.M.E., we can BANG now
Why'all ain't a threat, why'all niggas is our pets (you muts)
You ain't a boss, why'all Young'ns gon' play fetch (say what?)
I play the charge, throw somthin' all in yo chest,
You gon are-E-S-P-E-see-T me now, now, now


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

G.A.M.E. Lyrics as written by Nigel Thompson Emily Taylor

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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