Da Game Lyrics - Lost Boyz

Yo I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo 

I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo 

I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo 

I needs dough, you needs dough, we needs dough so yo 

Put on my thinkin' cap 

Don't know to rap about the niggas gettin' outta state trap 

Livin' dat, yo what's up black? 

Well its my third day home and not a cent to my name 

No jobs they claim I'm back in the drug game 

I need some money in a hurry 

I'm singin' my baby boy Troy he'll be two next February 

I'm in the crib with my man my nigga Van Dam 

An were thinkin' of an outta state plan peep it 

My man rolla doughs flyin' up on Friday 

He's buyin' a half an bouncin' back on the highway 

Now Friday comes moms is beefin' 'cause I'm cursin' 

She smells cheeb on me I'ma whole different person 

Well I guess I'm goin' ta cheat, she understood the chat 

Now call me when ya get there an' tell me where you at 

All right Ma, I checked out all my niggas then we jetted 

With fifty balls a piece brought a piece for unleaded 

Smokin' blunts forty ouncin', G and P bouncin' 

This is how we do, we is the Lost Boyz crew 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

Dreams in the head we gonna blow 

46 balls a piece an each got an O 

In the trunk punk, we bouncin' to Jamaica Queens funk 

An' inside the blunt 121 skunk 

We're headed for the belly an' we're enterin' the mouth 

My niggas in the hat black an yo we headed south 

Now that don't look right but listen black we be aiight 

[Incomprehensible] 

Smokin' blunts by the boxes 

Ghetto champagne is chill 

Stop back the first bit boys for gas an a meal 

Now everybody's lookin' at the niggas from New York 

Field jackets on an they peep as we talk 

I say to pretty Lou well look a rolla doughs hat 

I want one of them shits by the time I gets back 

We got the gas ate a meal on the road once again 

Taliq's on the blunt G an' P's on the henn 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

Now we reached the destination 1 O' clock on the dot 

Went to check out the spot, it's right next to a lot 

We jumped out the car we got the whole town starin' 

At the New York City plates an the tough shit we wearin' 

I guess it all seems that we came to cause racket 

My niggas in the ack an each got a field jacket 

A week down the line we got shit on the ball 

Every single day we gettin' fresh in the mall 

Troopin' plus we got the car wash movin' 

We gettin' our connects from a Cuban named Rubin 

Hangin' outta state, po nine is a peasant 

Livin' in the park but in the park it ain't so present 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money, the cars 

We in the game, the bitches, the money