The Pledge

(альбом: You Know What It Is, Volume 4: Murda Game Chronicles - 2007)

From the top
Back again mothafuckas
It's 3 Am in the morning, like what?
Niggas can't fuck with me man. West coast don
You know me. HA!
AW shit! You know what I'm bout to do this shit
Body this shit! Yeah, Blackwall Street niggas
The black Jim Hoffa, that's me
Chec, chec, check
Yo...

Eh yo these rap niggas bore me
Flow dormant, so corny
That's why when I drop shit
They jump on it
Like dicks they love it
Homo niggas
Choke when the game on the line
Dallas Cowboy Romo niggas
I got more bitches, more digits
07 I'm hitting more switches
Hip-hop broke, I'm gon fix it
I been away for a minute
I was in Europe on tour
Now I'm back, bonjour
The flow is so pure
I was baptized by the Doug E Fresh's
Lost my way and got reckless
Too much beefing Had me screwed up like Texas
So I had to take em back to the '98 Lexus
Take the grill out for dinner
Chop the crack for breakfast
It's a million niggas like me
Red strings in they Nike's
Some official, some softer than Scott's tissue
That's life B
Deal with it
Carry the steel with it
If you hard peel with it
One dome shot if you real with it
I'm from Compton son
Aim at a target and I will hit it
Cocaine Game
Put red sauce on ya Bills fitted
See me in the streets
I'm probably holding some
Beverly Hills
Spending money like I'm Oprah's son
That's why the bitches feel me
And they baby daddy's wanna kill me
Run up on the Range
Fucking with Game
He gon bang
Picture ya bleeding
All stretched out
Barely breathing
Huffing and wheezing
As the Range Rover tires screeching
I've been
Coached by the OGs
Chased by the police
You ain't never seen a nigga
Hit a fence like me
Catch me If you can
Leonardo DiCaprio
They say I'm not a real blood
The hood is backing me though
Niggas like Deebo, White Boy, Fog and Knot
Ask Big Dan if young Game
Jogged the block
Hog the rock
Sell it if it's hard or not
Before they call the cops
I rip apart the block
I'm in the bathroom flushing
Out the window, Hit the back gate
Tomorrow guess what?
I'm at the same corner hustlin
I done sold weed, sold X, sold crack
Never been snitched on
Cause I ain't ever ran with no rats
Never left ma grandma house
Without loading both straps
Never fumbled running like Barry Sanders
Know that
I vow to hustle til there's no more crack
Indirectly, got a young nigga to fold those packs
The black Jim Hoffa
Lemme introduce you to the show stopper
Mr. Lamborghini driver, low-Pro copper
He is I and I am he
We are one like the moon and the sun
OG
I been around
Kid hustlin
With grown men around
Seen homies get shot
And watch bodies spin around
Ain't hardly from Marcy
But I gotta respect it
Got niggas there
Chi town
And Mo-Town
I'm well-connected
Get your body dropped off
Any town I please
Let the trap snap on the rat
You'll die eating cheese
Get on your knees
Pray for Harry-O, Kenneth Supreme
I pledge allegiance to the hustlers
Keep living ya dream
What?

Ayo Skee man, shit is too easy
Ya know what I'm sayin?
We put out mixtapes when the fuck we feel like it
Not when you want it, when the fuck we feel like it
And I'm the CEO of mothafucking Blackwall Street Records, Blackwall Street Enterprises, Blackwall Street Porno's, Blackwall Street toilet tissue, Blackwall Street mothafucking car detailing, Blackwall Street car wash nigga, Blackwall Street socks, shoes, mothafucking ovens, kitchen appliances, I'm Blackwall Street's President, CEO, fucking... fuck it!