The Blues - The Game, Young Buck

I give niggas the blues

like an LA county jump suit

hop inside the phantom like the nigga Donald Trump do

and just cruise control until I lose control

these rubberband tires sitting on two’s and four’s

I pick and choose my foes

and with abusive flows I set traps so no rat can climb through his hole

touch my chedder bring out baretta’s

trying to floss be a boss

we do 6 hundreds or better

chopping up raw lettuce

my bitch got a coke fetish

still a fan cause she running through lines like Jerome Bettis

Iced out Coogi sweater, air ones, Louie checker belt

got me swimming through these bitches like Mike Phelps

drop top phantom so the World know I’m hazing

catch contact high while I listen to Miles Davis

lay my head back and just cruise

Tommy turn down the muthafucking bass and give niggas the blues

Yeah I give niggas the blues

drumma boy adjust the bass and give niggas the blues

I give niggas the blues

I give niggas the blues

been through it

the picture you see now I drew it

service myself change the oil and transmission fluid

Mel Gibson on these hoes on these 24′s

I’m still the truth in this game full of Pinnochio’s

filed bankrupt like what you gon take next from me

then I bought a jet for me, call it IRS money

its money, power, respect

buddy you wrong

respect power and money

now what the fuck is you on

this a dessert storm I get my Clue on

standing in a room full of bloods with my blue on

revolver on my waist but the barrell on it too long

can’t even fucking move, I aint used to having no suit on

I’m doing what I do, ya’ll don’t think I moved on

with or without a crew

my bills is still due on the first like you

pull up in anything bitch I’m BB King

and I break the rules

I will give niggas the blues

I give niggas the blues

take drumma boy beat and give niggas the blues

yeah