Scream On Em

[Swizz Beatz] Yeah... y'all really want this to happen? (Game time!) C'mon! ... ARRRRRRRRGH! [The Game] Homey it's hard not to kill niggaz; it's like a full time job not to pull out the steel and shove it in your grill Young California got that mass appeal I summons the hood, they get up in yo' ass for real Knockout flow, Winky Wright jab for real And all you niggaz pussy, need Massengil See I'm the gun-cocker, one-shotter, lift 'em off the ground Chop 'em down, like a cantaloupe, my flow the antidote Sick flow, it's so, motherfuckin six-fo' Your bitch know, hop in the back when you see Swizz hoe Diss that, all you niggaz get up off my dick so I can cook crack on the track and watch it mix slow Cocaine, my flow fire, call it propane Every nigga know Game, five shots no pain And that's the reason why I'm shittin on you niggaz Shut me in the looney bin, I'm sicker than you niggaz [Chorus: repeat 2X] (ARRRRRRRRGH!) This is that disrespectful, motherfuckin West coast Hip-hop death blow, Swizz Beatz, let's go! [The Game] Where I'm from, I seen the most stand up niggaz lay down Where skinny niggaz make buff niggaz victims of that trey-pound And gangbangers is the sharpshooters, we don't need no rooftops Just knock his ass down and take the money out his tube socks West coast niggaz is back on the map If only for now until the next time I body a track From the first clap I hurt rap, now watch the earth crack Bring the hearse back, and take a lyrical dirt nap I roll with the hardest niggaz, make money with the smartest niggaz I ain't got time for you fuckin artist niggaz Better shut your trap before you become a target nigga Y'all army brats I'm the motherfuckin sargeant nigga Beauty pageant-ass niggaz on the runway (Boyz N The Hood) 'til they see the nigga in that red Hyundai Blow his fuckin back out, cause I'm the rap Stackhouse Black Wall Street bitch, the hip-hop crackhouse, what? [Chorus] [The Game] My flow opposite of handsome, it's ugly Hip hop tantrum, sick, call the shit cancer One man show cause I fucked all the dancers Let the critics ask questions, my album be the answer These niggaz let the rumors sit in they head like tumors So I had to take 'em back, to toothbrush on the Pumas Clean... mean... rappin machine Red rag hangin low in the back of my jeans I black out like February, back out what's necessary Oh-seven Bugatti with Jimmy Iovine's secretary I'm runnin the buildin, don't make me run in the buildin No this ain't the first time I had my gun in the buildin Walkin past offices I see my son in the buildin Last album on the wall I'm number one in the buildin They should build me an office up under the buildin My elevator goin down, I am done in the buildin nigga [Chorus] [Swizz Beatz] We in the motherfuckin buildin man You ain't got your motherfuckin mind right? You gon' get your mind blown out your motherfuckin mind right nigga It is what the fuck it is man How y'all wanna cut the cake? You touch this you get your hands cut off, nigga Swizz Beatz the motherfuckin monster Game is in the motherfuckin buildin We could turn this whole motherfuckin world red nigga Bitch!