Young Breed ft. Rick Ross, Fat Trel – Game Over Ringtone
White bricks in a white fit
It’s just a fight til you mixin’ all that white shit
Let her work, watch the youngin’ make the white whip
Deep dishes all chrome with the white lip
I could sell it wholesale what a idea
And Dade County ain’t a dope charge that I feel
Same head bussas with them rusty choppas
Only thang we ever talk about is dope and dollars
They want to see my picture on a T-shirt
All the sticks good just makin’ sure the D’s work
All my enemies I like to keep ’em close
It’s a cold, cold world you gotta keep a coat
I’m where the dope boys from
You gotta keep some coke
I’m all fresh out the slums, I need to see the soap
Old Jamaicans still pissin’ in the pounds ho
Haters never straight til I let these rounds go
Another 211 in the projects
Keep a strap, this where all the niggas rob at
? like where the bomb at?
I’m still shittin’ on these niggas
Where the jon at?
[Chorus]
Baking soda in my Range Rover
I’m takin’ over nigga, game over
Fuck the state penn, I’m fuckin’ hoes at Penn State
In the Bentley bumpin debts with Biggie mixtape
Niggas at me like I’m 2Pac at a Vegas lobby
Money bags on your ass and you can pay the price
I’m in your city and want to make it right
For that lil’ check hit you in your pair of Nikes
End of conversation, nigga came and end your life
I’m talkin’ compensation with a brick of white
I’m sellin’ records nigga but I’m livin’ trife
I’m number one lookin’ like I did it twice
I got them shooters nigga that’ll dim yo lights
Midnight in overtime and niggas shootin’ dice
Four, five, six nigga
Don’t you open my brick nigga
Them haters screamin’ my name ain’t they?
They want to take a nigga chain ain’t they?
But that gon’ be a fuckin’ problem ain’t it?
Bus’ ’em like a bottle ain’t it?
All I got is real niggas
I’m talkin’ ;bout real killas
Baking soda in my Range Rover
I’m takin’ over nigga, game over
You snortin’ coke where you snort mine
This fast money, fuck father time
Big guns for that big talk
Take a nigga car and make a bitch walk
My AK always was my father figure
I barely knew my father nigga
[Chorus]
M’s, Double M’s I’m entitled to a hundred M’s
Hit a lick and I’m stickin’ dick in my women friends
Never flinch if the feds come and get a pinch
Watch while they scrabble, scratchin’ them snitches got an inch
I can take a slight trip with a white bitch
Whip full of white girl in a white whip
Ice, ever had to take a nigga life
Wrap ’em up in packages send ’em back in the afterlife
I know the feelin’ with killin’ my niggas made a killin’
So fuck the dealin’ with murder, they really handle business
Niggas losin’ that’s a switchin’ in my opposition
So who you choosin’ bitch?
I hope you choosin’ the fuckin’ winner
I heard them same pussy niggas snitches
This shit you talk ’bout with them bitches
Ridiculous, that can’t be me ’cause we keep it different
Who you see on your T.V. that’s who make a difference
[Chorus]