Freeway’s Revenge Lyrics The Game
All I ask is that you keep it real with me
All I ask is that you keep it real with me
All I ask is
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Cut open his stomach and stuff bricks in it
Put his body on a scale like it’s fish in it
I can see a *** in him
Twenty million dollar home renovation, just to slit your wrists in it
***, it’s a ***
Rip apart the Maybach, I know the truth’s inside
You twelve lemon pepper wings from a heart attack
Akademiks, get this *** Ozempic starter pack
Kai Cenat, hit the room, turn that stream on
Ask Buttons ’bout his brief encounter with King Kong
This ain’t the Kendrick beef, my Drac’ sing songs
Shots rings out, your neighbor better have his ring on
Glocks swing out, doors open like a swing arm
Pac lean out, Makaveli with the ring on
Opps is out, th_y on the same *** that we on
Hospital wheelchair, h_ad wrap, sling on
It’s payback, punk, for the drama you tried to bring on
Maybach trunks, type of *** that we eat our wings on
My K-Dot ***, I don’t have to turn the beam on
It’s that time of the month, give this *** somethin’ to bleed on
Your baby mama told me that you liked to get peed on
You a C.O., that’s the last time you had keys on
And we know you treat Gunplay like he a peon
And he know some *** that ain’t cool for him to speak on
My P.O. said, “This ain’t the record that we agreed on!”
Then cut it off like the ankle monitor ‘fore the beep on
My niggas’ll learn French just to get they steam on
In Cali, with calicos, don’t need Khaled to get his scream on
We the West
Free the guys, I gotta free the West
I’m muy loco, I don’t need a vest
I’m watching Scarface and cleaning TECs
Shots gon’ be direct
Have you been through Cedar yet?
When cars pull up, we do explosives and heater checks
The lights flick, the dogs bark, and niggas sleepin’ less
Under palm trees, we got them choppas that’ll eat your flesh
The real Rick Ross know every bird gotta leave the nest
You stole your name, I pulled your file (facts)
You looked at B.I.G. and stole his style (facts)
I smell ***, that odor foul (foul)
You ain’t sold no birds, you troll the owl
Draco flick, it’s like the lighter on Tha Carter IV
Bad kid, good city, I study the art of war
Runnin’ to that hand-me-down mansion and lock up all the doors
Stop with all that ravin’, *** you not from Baltimore
I don’t wanna hear about no fish tanks and marble floors
No spiral steps, no swimming pools, no hors d’oeuvres, no Audemars
No car shows, no pinky rings, no umbrellas in the car doors
Introduce me and my connect to that Colombian you chop that raw for
Was it fabricated?
The lies you tell are getting saturated
What happened to the birds in the Maserati? They just evaporated?
”Boss”
That *** be too exaggerated
***’ with a Compton ***, get your head decapitated
Lit a DiCaprio, all that cap like you activated
“I just a bought a hundred foot yacht, and it was captivatin’!”
Congratulations, what an imagination
From C.O. to drug kingpin, now this *** actin’ Haitian
The stories these niggas tell
He gon’ tell us he got a key for every *** he got locked in a cell
He gon’ tell us he just bought another crib, he livin’ well
But he won’t tell us about his health condition, he sick as hell
He poppin’ pills, they startin’ to *** with his brain
Seizures off the lean, Balenciaga shorts got *** stains
He not a mastermind, he Gotti, line after line
Laid back in the Maybach, makin’ up *** just to pass the time
He think he Big Meech, free Larry Hoover
Miami and Big Beach, now watch how I maneuver
I don’t tippy-toe, I know plenty Zoes that pull up in semi-trucks, hop out and let a semi go
So let me know
I let the boys in them drop Chevys go
It’s humid in the 305, but they pushin’ heavy snow
Compton grim reaper, I’ll make you reap what the devil sow
Walkin’ through (?) with the same eyes niggas had in Belly though
This ain’t the new Death Row, this the old Harry-O
Game is one of them niggas, Bleu DaVinci, Meech and Terry know
So my advice is let it go
Oh, I almost forgot
*** Belaire, it’s West Side, we let the Henny flow
So when that muzzle smoke, and that thing hot
Even when the camera out of focus, just know the beam not
Run up on you, clean shots, look down on you
Flash on like a iPhone taped to the ceiling with the screen locked
This *** drug women; that’s how your team rock?
And all that money you rap about gon’ get you a mean plot
But in the meantime, I’ma let you fake fiends cop
And I know you doing your thing, Ock
But this is where the wing stop