• Tag Archives Sip Amaretta
  • The Game – How We Do Lyrics

    [Verse 1: Eazy-E]
    Aw yeah, let’s take a trip
    Just sit back and light a spliff with this and don’t slip
    On a funky-dope track, jump back
    Strapped with a fat buddha sack and a 7-8 ‘lac
    Come clean, gangsta lean, I got green
    Bud, I serve dubs like it ain’t no thing
    I hang with OG playas, don’t set trip
    Or you might get what we call a rat pack
    I don’t slack when it come to street
    I kick real G-funk to a gangsta beat
    It’s so sweet, when you got money to spend
    I got a proper big tilt and a fly-big Benz
    I make ends, spend my dough on no ho
    That’s how it is, and that’s how it goes
    Act like you know when I creep real slow
    Givin’ love to them players that I know is real G’s

    [Verse 2: 2Pac]
    Now ever since a nigga was a seed
    Only thing promised to me was the penitentiary
    Still ballin’, ridin’ on these niggas ‘cause they lame
    In a ’61 Chevy, still heavy in this game
    Can you feel me? Blame it on my mama, I’m a thug nigga
    Up before the sunrise, quicker than the drug dealers
    Tell me if it’s on, nigga, then we first to bomb, bust
    On these bitch-made niggas, hit ’em up!
    Westside! Ain’t nobody loved me as a broke nigga
    Finger on the trigger, Lord, forgive me if I smoke niggas
    I love my females strapped, no fuckin’ from the back
    I get my currency in stacks, California’s where I’m at
    Right? Passed by while these niggas wondered why
    I got shot but didn’t die, let ’em see who’s next to try
    Did I cry? Hell nah, nigga, tears shed
    For all my homies in the pen, many peers dead
    Niggas still ballin’
    [Hook: 50 Cent]
    This is how we do
    We make a move and act a fool while we up in the club
    This is how we do
    Nobody do it like we do it, so show us some love
    This is how we do
    We make a move and act a fool while we up in the club
    This is how we do
    Nobody do it like we do it, so show us some love

    [Verse 3: 2Pac]
    Now everybody wanna see us dead
    Two murdered on the front page
    Shot to death, bullets to the head
    Niggas holler out my name and it’s similar to rape
    Mothafuckas know I’m coming, so they running to they graves
    Watch! Swoop down with my nigga from the Pound
    ‘Cause (Eazy) don’t give a fuck
    Where you coward niggas now?
    Blast, keep pumpin’, ain’t worried about nothin’
    Busters thought we was frontin’, so reload and keep dumpin’

    [Verse 4: Eazy-E]
    Dump on fools with a quickness
    And they got no cure for the sickness
    I get paid for the way that I kick this
    Like a G-ster, an OG-ster (who’s that?)
    A real player named Eazy
    And I live my life straight crazy
    Don’t need no punk fools paying me
    And broke groupies and hootchies don’t faze me
    I take two steps back and release myself
    To put platinum and gold on the record shelf
    I don’t brag, but I tell it like it straight-up is
    Before you do a record, partner, handle your business
    And don’t get caught slippin’ on the under
    Or you might wonder, (What’s up with them ends, G?)
    I call a spade a spade and get paid
    G’s show the way, so I give love to ’em

    [Verse 5: Game]
    I put gold Daytonas on that Cherry Six-Four
    White walls so clean it’s like I’m riding on bulbs
    Hit one switch, man, that ass so low
    Cali got niggas in New York ridin’ on hundred spokes
    Touch me, tease me, kiss me, please me
    I give it to you just how you like it, girl
    You know I’m rocking with the best
    Four pound on my hip, gold chain on my chest (Ah!)

    [Verse 6: 50 Cent]
    Fifty, uh, Bentley, uh
    Em came and got a nigga fresh out the slum
    Automatic gun, fuck ’em one-on-one
    We wrap up your punk ass
    Stunt and you done, homie, it’s Game time

    [Verse 7: The Game]
    You ready? Here I come
    Call Lloyd Banks and get this mothafucker crunk
    It took two months, but Fifty got it done
    Signed with G-Unit, had niggas like “huh?”
    Don’t try to front, I’ll leave your ass slumped
    Thinking I’m a punk
    Get your fucking head lumped, Fifty got a gun

    [Verse 8: 50 Cent]
    Ready? Here he come
    Gotta sick vendetta, to get this cheddar
    Meet my Beretta, the drama setter
    Sip Amaretta, my flow sounds better
    Than average, on tracks I’m a savage, I damage
    Any nigga tryin’ to front on my clique (G-Unit!)