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The Big Game Lyrics - Manifesto - Inspectah Deck

Yeah, major players of the game, still swinging 

I'm up to bat again, ya'll already know 

Barry Bonds flow, out of the park with it (Mental Instruments) 

Let's go 

 

You run through the competition, they treat you like a champ 

When you winning and you make it to the big game 

Dive in a pile of riches, fly bitches 

Chain fridged when you, make it to the big game 

Get money, big money, big fame 

Spot packed out, and the fans entertained 

They like me, we go hard when we play 

And that's how the fuck you get to make it to the big game 

 

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Early on the paper route, blood on my hands 

Cannons and lasers out 

Cool as a fan standing in Satan's house 

Show 'em what my name about, boss of myself 

Turning your lady out, talk is cheap, shut up, pay me now 

Hands on the dice work, stopping your bank 

Shorty you're light work, Comic View rap making my side hurt 

Talent's in the mic worse, drama to rank 

Feels like my life cursed, down to go out 

What's the price worth? 

Seats leaning with the rod held tight 

In the BMW g'ing with the Roswell lights 

I spit gemstars, splitting your dome and I double up 

Everything, heavy swing, bringing 'em home 

So I'm sitting like a king on the throne, like I used to be 

The right hand, now I got a thing on my own 

Showing love for all my ringers home, quoting my name 

You niggas been a clone, homie can't swing in my zone 

 

Photos 

 

Revolvers with the lazy eye, late for my plate frame 

You crazy fly, screw the tip off, jump in the baby I 

More papers, law makers, all of us jaw breakers is on 

Vaticans in action in all ages 

All my teams armored, from all the way to bulletproof socks 

Hit me in the calf, it's no option 

I won't fold, destined to make bail 

Call up my Norfolk niggas, tip that bill, we can't play jail 

No time for RICOs, kids ego 

Fucked up the game, that's like sticking your eye next to the peephole 

The next generation of dumb niggas, we built the legacy 

These bum niggas, got invaded by slum niggas 

All mine battling, we gonna battle for mansions 

Branson and more bottles of Gallo 

A villain slash genetleman, blowing with nine thousand Indians 

I'm the chief, this the millennium 

 

After all that I been through, critiquing all that the kid do 

The moral though, I'mma continue 

We hungry, son, you ain't seen gully 

You Wesley at the Carter, New Jack City, you G-Money 

I beast money, feet stay fresh off the runway 

Hotter than a summer day sunray, I must say 

Truth like a Bible page, twenty flow said night or day 

Twenty warheads at you right away 

Play maker A-gamer'll sell the house out, silence the nay sayer 

Throw a shout out, to all my major players 

Deck take it out the park, Barry Bonds stance 

They wonder, damn is his performance enhanced? 

Rumble in the jungle, blind to the pressure 

See, son's cool, million to one odds, he come through 

I leave your trunk blue, holding your head, stuck off the one-two 

Turn up the game, I just begun to 

 

Live and direct, Staten Island 10304 

USA, all the way to muthafucking Africa 

Back to Pinkin Avenue 

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