House Of Pain Lyrics - Game

Dodge this 

Catch me if you can, I'm in 'em old school Barkley's 

Back to the fence, puffin' on that Bob Marley 

Flow like oregano, nigga, you already know 

My competition's stiffer than Ronald Regan, let it go 

Befo' you be a motherfuckin' vegetable 

You scrap niggas too animated like The Incredibles 

Let this beef go around like the twenty six's 

It's young Game of flame, welcome to the House of Pain 

Nigga, what about The Game? 

Keep on playin', boy, I'll hop out this fuckin' Range 

Look I ain't even ask for his fuckin' chain 

But he took it off like Vanessa Del Rio 

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Now I'm on my way to Rio 

After I see my PO, she cool, she a Leo 

She ain't trippin' off the weed smoke 

So I'ma blow it like the Patriots 

And throw my dub up, 'coz Dr Dre made me rich 

Where you from? California 

What city? Compton 

What you drive? Impala 

What you smokin' on? Chronic 

What you drinkin' on? Patron 

What you sittin' on? The throne 

Relax, make yourself at home 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Photos 

I wrote the block off, I talk that shit 

Size twelve Bo Jacksons 'cause I walk that shit 

There on Compton Blvd, that's where I walk my pits 

Biggie and 2Pac and they bark like this 

As I spark my splif 

I see the coroner puttin' chalk around the snitch 

We be shootin' like free throws, flyin' them desert eagles 

Sell dope to the Po' while we eat chili Fritos 

From a gang banger to a CEO 

Everything I do is big like the nigga Caesar Leo 

Won't stop till I'm dead, ain't gotta watch for the Feds 

They ain't watchin' me, so here's a dome shot to the head 

As I take a patron shot to the head 

And reminisce about the shit the DOC said 

Get money, get cars, get mine, get yours 

And keep your head up, like the Lambo doors 

Where you from? California 

What city? Compton 

What you drive? Impala 

What you smokin' on? Chronic 

What you drinkin' on? Patron 

What you sittin' on? The throne 

Relax, make yourself at home 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Guess, it's time to break the number nine Jordan's in 

Make a nigga mad when they been tryin' to floor the Benz 

I'm doin' one sixty in the fast lane 

Scott Storch in his Bugatti couldn't pass Game 

I got it, made like my last name 

I'm gone just like my Aftermath chain 

Don't make me take you back to ninety six 

Leanin' on that Datsun on the corner eatin' catfish 

The Game, da, da, da Game spit, that shit 

I'm controversial like the Afro pic with the black fist 

Just ask the rapper that had to catch my last diss 

I'm reckless and I ain't never crash whips 

My pops wasn't around, so this bastard 

Bleed California from the cradle to the casket 

And I won't stop ridin' for my coast 

Niggas keep talkin' 'bout my bread, we gonna make toast 

Where you from? California 

What city? Compton 

What you drive? Impala 

What you smokin' on? Chronic 

What you drinkin' on? Patron 

What you sittin' on? The throne 

Relax, make yourself at home 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton 

Welcome to Compton