Long Live Da Game
- T.I. (2003)You are listening to the song Long Live Da Game by T.I., writer by T.I in album Trap Muzik. The highest quality of audio that you can download is flac . Also, you can play quality at 32kbps, view lyrics and watch more videos related to this song.
- Rubber Band Man - T.I.
- 24's - T.I.
- Trap Muzik - Mac Boney
- I Can't Quit - T.I.
- Be Easy - T.I.
- No More Talk - T.I.
- Doin' My Job - T.I.
- Let's Get Away - T.I.
- Look What I Got - T.I.
- I Still Luv You - T.I.
- Let Me Tell You Something - T.I.
- T.I. Vs. T.I.P. - T.I.
- Bezzle - Bun-B
- King Of Da South - T.I.
- Be Better Than Me - T.I.
- Long Live Da Game - T.I.
Lyrics
[Intro:]
Aye, uh-uh, uh, aye
Aye, what's happenin'?
Ye-ye, ye-ye-yeah
That's right, one time for your mind
What's happening, pimp?
This for all my niggas who think they hard
Ok, nigga, I'll tell you what's hard, pimp
(What's hard pimp?)
Going about your day, nigga, losing your life at the end of it
Nigga, that's what's hard, nigga
(Minding my muthafuckin' business, that shit was fucked up)
Let me tell you a story about the last day I lived in my life
(How it happened, man?)
[Verse:]
I'm in a '96 Impala with the gat in my lap
Annihilating any nigga trying to work in my trap
I have the feds got me tapped
So to keep 'em off of my back
I got a crib in the trap and a crib to relax
Now my indictment was a secret, and that's the way that they keep it
If I ain't have a ho giving head to the feds coming back telling me exactly what they said
I'm a dead man walking
Waiting on time in jail
But I'll die before I let 'em stop my mail
Long as I got another ounce to sell
What the hell, I'mma bail?
Grab my scale
Get another ki and I'mma slang my yayo
Everyday it feel like they on my trail
Look them in the face say, "Fuck they jail"
Niggas on the westside can't re-up because it's a drought
So I check the crack house
Damn, it sold out
Now back to the crib, so I can check this stash
Ain't sure about how much dope I had
Got a couple kis in the safe right now
Weigh it up, cook it up, then chop it down
Now I'm ready to go and pick up my fetti
But before I leave the house I can't dip without grabbin my G's
And my keys to my brand new V, put 'em in pocket
So my gat–blue jeans, Desert Eag'
Nigga, you holler 'bout freeze
Put this red dot to your ass and squeeze
Now I'm dippin back to the SWAT
With the 4-4 and a plastic Glock
Turned around the corner and I had to stop
Couldn't trap, before me it was the cops
Sit and watch, but I still ain't scared
Mac Boney and 'em must have fled
Only cops is I fear is the feds
On my car flashing blue and red
Damn there they go, now it's time to dip
Got the 4-4 right my hip
9 millimeter with an extra clip
That's what you niggas get fucking 'round with TIP
Busting at 'em, and cussing at 'em, but ain't no shaking 'em
Them bullets that they was busting at me, my vest was taking 'em
Making them pigs fall in pain
Turned around cause one called my name
Took a hot one to the brain
Yeah, I died, but long live the game.
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