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1. It's A Cold Cold Game Mac Dre Lyrics Youtube
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4. It's A Cold Cold Game Mac Dre Lyrics Dipped
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Jul 20, 2004  Verse 2: Mac Dre Cut the crap, biatch; you can't con me I'll slice yo' ass thin as salami Not Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky or Mike I go bad like OJ, sav like Ike Gesundheit, so cold, you sneeze.

It's A Cold Cold Game Mac Dre Lyrics Youtube

Writers & Publishers

from the album Young Black Brotha - The Album 路Lyrics Terms of Use

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

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I'm in motion

Peep game, I started like this
I'm nothin' ****** nice with the mic in my fist
Never slackin when I'm mackin, get straight to the point
And always got my damn lighter to the mothafuckin' joint
Mac Dre, dope as you ever knew
Taxin muthafuckas like Internal Revenue
Knocken 'em off the top like it ain't no thang
Suckers cant hang with the way I slang
Ryhmes flow smooth like milk fom a cup
Straight cussin when I'm bustin' don't be givin a fuck
'Cause there's no room for weak and soft ones
Square muthafuckas end up lost ones
I'm the type of brotha that you don't wanna see
Mobbin on the S T A G E
Doper then a joint a that D A N K
Got more soul then Koonta Kinte
Young playa', down for the mail
Even bustin' tapes when they put me in jail
Straight, from the C E double L
Nevertheless, funky fresh, boy I'm never stale
Pumpin your brain up with game gettin' groovy'en
Doper then a key of that pure Peruvian
Uncut, dope as x-rated
Some hate it 'cause they cant relate
But I'm takin' out every time
'Cause sucka, slayin is a full time job
Not one to brag, but to tell you the truth mayne
I'm funkier than a locker room after a hoop game
To put it to you straight, I'm one nice dream
I'll make your brain, melt like ice cream
Given it to you just the way you like to be gave to
You never hear Dre do or say what they do
'Cause I'm no biter, Ill just write a
Rap that caps on a young sucka that might a
Step outta line, dissin' a ryhme
becomin Mac Dre is like commitin a crime
Ill best the rest, but test the best
But nevertheless the funky fresh, rizaps
makin' lots of snizaps
Suckas try to hang, Ill make a tape fizat
But some take no?, try to throw those
Slightly dope raps but I just show those
Suckas sudden death, I never slowly kill
Knocken 'em off the box like Evander Holyfield
I cant be touched when I'm on the microphone
Ill make sucka MC's leave the mic alone
One by one, they all bow down
And get riggidy romped out to this Mac Dre sound
Sometimes I cuss but whenever I bust
I keep the fans geeked and they cant get enough
Like a dope fiend hooked on the glass pipe
Or an alchoholic hooked on the ack-right
My raps make love to your ear hole
it's the diggity dope shit you love to hear, hoe

I'm in motion

Saucey, yes I got flava
When I'm ****** it up man nothin' can save ya
droppin' the funky **** like a A duble S hole
Romper room soldier comin' straight from the Crest hoe
Hotter then hot sauce, love to cock toss
Bitches get sprung when I'm gettin' my rocks off
'Cause I'm not the type that be bustin' quick ones
I like to hit the cock in all positions
From the back, or with the ***** on top
With young Mac Dre, mayne, it just don't stop
There ain't a piece of pussy that I cant get
Hoes on my dick like stank on ****
They just love they way, I T A L K
Your so saucey, Is what they tell Dre
Then ten minutes later they be wantin' to G this
Jealous muthafuckas be hatin' to see this
Player haters try, to salt me up
doin' punk ****, to fault me up
But that bullshit don't faze me
Shes still sprung, and she still pays me
With the quickness, she ain't hesitant
Given up them dead presidents
That lovey dovey **** I just cant get with
I charge hoes for this black big dick
Fly young tenders with lots of green
Be kickin' me down like a slot machine
breakin' me off somethin' more than propper
Young Mac Dre's a cold cash clocker
Not the type of brother that be tastin hoes
I'm the type of ***** that be lacin hoes
'Cause the ***** ain't **** but five letters
She don't kick down, then I sweat her
Mack the *****, crack the *****, break her
She wont pay then mayne I shake her
'Cause money makes the world spin
**** a wife and a girlfreind
it's all about S N A P S
A ***** thats broke, just ain't fresh
Some ****** think they gotta pay
**** that ****, not Mac Dre
Ill tell 'em like this, it costs to toss me
'Cause ain't no *****, that damn saucey
Hoes get sprung on the S E X
And don't hesitate given up the cheques

I'm in motion

Cold Game Lyrics

Cold Game Manga

Writers & Publishers

from the album Rapper Gone Bad 路Lyrics Terms of Use

Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language:

It's A Cold Cold Game Mac Dre Lyrics Dipped

[ VERSE 1 ]
I'm a young gifted and black mack, rap sweet like candy yams
And I make you put your fist up to your mouth and say, 'Goddamn!'
Boy, I got heat, flame-o, pull a mic, liquid draino
Verbal volcano, they love me, cause they know
I'm cut from the cloth that real men are made of
Bitches get sprayed up with clips of this Bay love
Attackin you with vernacular, dialect and lingo
The Rapper Gone Bad, boy, peep the first single
Bounce and shake what your mammy gave you
It's the drapers, can you feel it? Nothin can save you
>From the dapper rapper who stay fitted like a mannequin
Hoes see me in the traffic and say, 'Girl, there go that man again'
I'm fabulicious, game nutricious
Break bitches like dishes and drink like them fishes
Boy, put some of that yukon jack in the bag
And come fuck with yo partner, the rapper gone bad
(Rapper gone bad)
(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)
(Baaad)
[ VERSE 2 ]
I'm a old schooler like Grandmaster and the 5 that was Furious
Bitches goin delirious even though it ain't that serious
You're curious? Well, listen to these lyricals
Them suckers tryin to knock this, it's gonna take a miracle
I'm seasoned with the game that o.g.'s told me
Got laced like Luke did by Obi Won Kenobi
Or Yoda, hold a, mic in my right hand
And when I'm sleep you know I keep a fat strap in my nightstand
I strike men, my height, man, is l-o-double d
I see us after the show at the hotel Double Tree
Cool, calm and collected, but sometimes I get mean
Cause suckers sick of the scene like they Jack and i'm the Green
Giant, defiant, bitches get dealt with quick
Can't be on this ball team unless you wanna help get grits
Let's get rich, is what I tell em, sell em dreams like horoscopes
They try to fight the feeling, but it's hard to ignore your folks
Mac D with the r connected to the e (me)
Might be at the bar drinkin Hennessy
In between the sheets I'm a freak and a cold piece of work
My puddy over her body like Johnny, Keith and Levert
(Rapper gone bad)
(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)
(Baaad)
[ VERSE 3 ]
A thug like 2pac, wanna mack like Too $hort
Smoke punks like Newports, get drunk off 2 quarts
Bendin corners in somethin ninety-new
Lookin real ragoon on my way to see Chuey
Boy, I'm on the air gettin heavy rotation
But I'm still a player with a Chevy on Daytons
I'm hi-po, and the five-o really can't stand me
Got posse, Flowmasters and Shift, King and Tranny
Chirpin every time I shift gears
In that '95 Impala with them gold-dipped gears
Put some of that 151 in the bag
Come fuck with yo partner, the rapper gone bad
(Rapper gone bad)
(Ra-ra-ra-ra-rap)
(Baaad)

It's A Cold Cold Game Mac Dre Lyrics Clean