They Don't Want None Lyrics - Game

[Featuring: Shyne & Pharrell] 

Far as dough, I'm stuffed with cash, popping like fuckle tags 

Rappin' in Belize, Louis Vuitton duffle bags 

Guess who home, my nigga Shyne 

Straight out the brick house to a brick house 

Money flowin' like it's Chris Dale 

Shine on it swiss styles, I'm hood as Kid Styles 

My Clair Bomber jacket perfect for the pit stop, it is now 

You boys don't want none, release on the blood Glock 

They here by, they go numb 

Goin' plan no. 1 with the gang no. 2 

Start track no. 3 back to ypee MV 

(Gots the chill) While I stack a mill to the ceiling 

Ten gangstas outside, meeting gangstas in the building 

One nigga can't stop this motherfuckin' killin' 

Hell on earth of repercussion, the blood is spelt on my children 

Cowboys and Indians, motherfuck the pilgrims 

Infiltrate my squad near every cat buildin' 

Related 

Can You Guess The Song By The Emojis? 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

(They don't want none) 

Don't make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots 

Spin that black ghost around the block 

(They don't need none) 

We got pills for days 

Give a bitch chills and thrills for days 

Know I mean? 

(Let 'em have some) 

Ace of Spades by the fountains 

Cush by the ounces, mill on the mountains 

(In a week I'm) 

We bringin' the fuck 

Yo B, let 'em know 

Money Gang uh 

Photos 

Fish out the cooker, bein' busy for the pussy 

In the kitchen with the cook of blood yea, then you rough us 

You fuckin' hookers, y'all a bunch of Ashton Kutcher's 

With the finger tag backs, you ain't jackin' that 

Yo Game, I'm laughin' at these cop who turned shote us 

Imagine that, you're mad a fuckin' life happen at 

You's the only one there, I swear 

Stuck the blood clut cryin' 

I'm in Belize with Game when these shots fired in this silence 

Y'all motherfuckaz singin' 

I've see the paperwork, you a fuckin' pigeon, no kisses 

Count clood to the ceilin' 

George Jackson shit, Vic, Vag, Vellin 

Hopin' every cell they creepin' 

County fuckin' with me, I'm the best livin' 

(They don't want none) 

Don't make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots 

Spin that black ghost around the block 

(They don't need none) 

We got pills for days 

Give a bitch chills and thrills for days 

Know I mean? 

(Let 'em have some) 

Ace of Spades by the fountains 

Cush by the ounces, mill on the mountains 

(In a week I'm) 

We bringin' the fuck 

Yo B, let 'em know 

Money Gang uh 

Check it, what the blood clot? 

Nigga blood got Ferrari's and Lambo's parked outside the drug spot 

Survived five shots, you know that 

When bitch niggas died, they cried 

Cause they had to pay for that 

Payers took it, where the blow at? 

I just won a hundred racks on blackjack and you know I'm 'bout to blow that 

They don't make real niggas where you from 

Sick 45, I'm 'bout to finger fuck the trigga till them hollows come 

Talk shit? Swallow one 

You fuckin' move me 

I disrespect niggas like in old Italian movies 

I'm sayin', I live, you ready 

I come in the restaurant with my shirt off and spit in your fuckin' spaghetti sauce 

Boss, my pocket's fatter than my nigga Ross 

Wipe this milkatrone off my mouth with my Louis glove 

Understand? 

I'm a California felon 

Bust your cerebellum, skateboard go and tell 'em 

(They don't want none) 

Don't make a nigga pull Glocks in the shots 

Spin that black ghost around the block 

(They don't need none) 

We got pills for days 

Give a bitch chills and thrills for days 

Know I mean? 

(Let 'em have some) 

Ace of Spades by the fountains 

Cush by the ounces, mill on the mountains 

(In a week I'm) 

We bringin' the fuck 

Yo B, let 'em know 

Money Gang