"Church For Thugs" lyrics - THE GAME

THE GAME

"Church For Thugs"

(C. Jackson / J. Smith / Justin Smith / J. Taylor / Jayceon Taylor)

[Intro: Just Blaze]
Yeah, Fort Knocks, Aftermath, Compton to Jersey
What y'all fools know about perculatin' on lo-los?
Mics and six-fo's, nigga
Ha ha, no more hand claps, please, nigga
Here we go - Just Blaze!

[Verse 1: The Game]
To all my niggas on the porch gettin' they hair braided
Cornrowed by a L.A. bitch
And I can't forget, my niggas ridin' the train, Yankee fitted
Snub nose under that Pelle shit
I love New York, but gangbangin' that's L.A. shit
And I'm proud of it, spit it through the wire so the crowd love it
Haters you know who you are, you could turn it down, fuck it
I could shoot a video to it and spend half the budget
I'm gangsta, let the 40 cal' blow in public
More hatred inside my soul than 'Pac had for Delores Tucker
Every time one of my niggas get shot, the more I suffer
'Cause we trapped inside a world where you forced to die for your colors
I seen it all through the Range tints
Got niggas doin life in the state pen
So I dread like Jamaicans
If I die for one of my statements
Then break up the streets of Compton
Spread my blood in the pavement

[Chorus: The Game]
Believe me, niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
But when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal
Niggas keep sayin' they gon' heat me up
Talkin' that shit like they gon' lay me down
But when I come through strapped to see what's up
Niggas really don't want no parts of me pal

[Verse 2: The Game]
Who I gotta talk to, who I gotta write
Get my Reebok deal done or I'm stayin' in Air Nikes, aight?
I handle bars, you ain't gotta ride a bike
To beat Game in his skills, here go some trainin' wheels
Let's roll, through the City of God, where niggas trained to kill
We'll chop you up a hundred times worse than the Haitians will
For real, nah, Pharrell, I need a track, homie
Dre we too close, ain't no turnin' back, homie
Deal with it, I'ma be here for ten years
Spittin' like the ghost of Eric Wright and Big, yeah
Let me paint this picture while you sit here
Thinkin' in the back of your mind, 'this is the shit,' yeah
I spit for niggas doin' 25 on their fifth year
Ready to throw a nigga off the fifth tier
Them white boys in the Abercrombie & Fitch gear
And every nigga who ever helped me to get here

[Verse 3: The Game]
It go one brick, two brick, the boy movin' weight
Now three bricks, four bricks, I'm drivin' upstate
Five bricks, six bricks, the nigga got cake
Not rap money, but money been wrapped since eighty-eight
Look at the world we live in, niggas steady hate
'Til the Heckler and Koch, leave 'em chopped up like Freddy's face
Niggas catchin' feelings 'cause I'm about millions
And out of all the newcomers out, my flow the illest
You a close second nigga, banana to a gorilla
Put us in the same cage, and I'ma have to peel 'em
The best of both worlds, rappin and drug dealin'
Run and tell Lateef I came to burn down the village
The head honcho, starin' out the third story window
Of my Beverly Hills condo
Two long-ass Heats, I call 'em Shaq and Alonzo
You niggas want me out of L.A., geah, I know