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Lyrics for 400 Bars by The Game

400 Bars - Lyrics

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Ay yo Drama!
We 'bout to burn the motherfucking streets up with this shit
Breakfast club
I want to welcome everybody to the motherfucking Red Room
This ain't a mixtape
This is life!
Get em!

Its been a long time
Get re-acquainted with the world famous
You know how on point my aim is
Long range snipers, Clash of the Titans chrome pippin'
In this 300 like Leonidas
Snub in the bubble goose, riding down the interstate
Where fiends put them needles in they arm and let them penetrate
Leaning sideways with my fitted straight
The 27's on point, the paint job a New York minute late
(Check my automo no clouds in my stones)
Projects ringing, standing by the corner store
Two glocks on me, bang bang if you wanted war
That was '05, now we balling on this tour
Screaming out "Thug Life!" Pouring belvy on yo whore
Money I'm involved with it, wake up and ball with it
Kobe, Gasol with it, uncut raw with it
Chop bricks take trips OT,
Before I had a goatee, I used to bag the OZ
(Yeah, fish scale nigga, what up Ghost)
Then stash em by the oak tree
Move it by the coke leaf
Drama let the llama knick niggas like Charles Oakley
Nigga don't insult me, I banana both b r c k esť's
And stuff em in a Lexus
I'm sitting fat like Precious, Christ up on the necklace
And I keep them clips on a dresser
Yes sir, I'm bout to ball
Louis bag the fucking mall
Bitches money and fast cars, nigga I want it all
(Yeah, word to my kids nigga, I want it all)
Nascar game, why the fuck would I stall?
I'm the franchise nigga, Chris fucking Paul
Empty out the canonn, hit your bitch, you the truck and all
Withdraw two hundred thousand, and then fuck it off
King of the hill got a dime bitch cutting raw
She bagged the last nigga, unzip she suck it soft
Black Superman, yeah I'm above law
I put this hollow tip on quarter inch above your jaw
Eat out a fucking straw
Blindfold your bitch toss her in the trunk
After the first 48 that bitch smelling like a skunk
Its a rap, I rap, when I rap the pumps
Throw me in the game module and tell em wrap the bunks
The breakfast club nigga no captain crunch
This for my dog niggas that eat cats for lunch
I'm hungry, like I aint trapped in months
So nigga act and stunt my glock pack a punch
(Or rock or heckle a cop and seal your pine box)
Leave your head wrapped for months, while I pass the blunt
To my niggas, we all rocked out whats up Jigga
Sometimes I be in BK, with Fab on the freeway
Lincoln continental and I copped it off on ebay
I pop Cham like its my b-day
Horse power under my hood like its an olympic relay
My flow right on time, no delay
I raise a million dollars send it off to CHILE
(Word to my red cross, I don't fuck with red cross)
I'm all Madden nigga EA
I'm in VA
Money talks with Dre and Pharrell on three-way
Them 28's that's my DJ they spinning shit
When I took trips OT, I never rented shit
I just dropped and copped, and then I tinted shit
Diddy and Mike Epps, I'm All About the Benjamins
In it for the benefits, I be down at ten to six
Tell em get me a porterhouse, and some eggs benedict
(Damn that was good, but I'm still hungry)
And I'm living it
I be out in Venice yeah!
They say Weezy Jordan, nigga I'm on my Pippen shit
They say Drake LeBron, I'm on my Mo Williams shit
And if T.I.P. is Kobe then fuck it, I'm Derek Fisher shit
Long as I'm in the starting five, I'ma get it in
Cause I promised the city of Compton I would get it in
I was outcasted Andre Benjamin
Now I slide through with my Dominican woman friend
(She like put no ceilings in, yeah)
Just set me in, expensive wines, Paris seal
It ain't tricking, I just spend money on cheap thrills
Big phantoms, sweet wheels
Back seat like a club make them bitches eat pills
Take patron shots to the purse with chrome glocks
Jay Electronica, this a dome shot
So I had to steal it, nigga I had to kill it
I was the turtle in the race I made the rabbit feel it
(Yeah! Keep running nigga)
Housing by the subway, filling through the projects
Come through in the Murcielago on foreign object
Number one prospect the day that I was drafted
Aftermathmatic unleashed the fucking bastard
Don't respect none of you niggas get in the casket
Talking ratchets never touched a fucking automatic
Drama this is tragic, put it in the plastic
88 bars and running, throw it with my other classics
(Drama you should have warned these niggas, I'm bout to kill it)
Yeah trash bag it
This is crack, and I know you been fiending for this
Come get your packs
I do it for the music nigga, fuck the plaques
Ain't on no beef shit, but it's still fuck the rats
And when I'm in New York, I set a bunch of traps
Put the cheese where they can see it and if you stunt you clap
Catch em in the club, that's when I stomp em flat
Nigga get up after that, go get a fucking bat
I tell you 'bout these fucking rats
They either snitch or bend over to catch
No matter how you look at it I hate fucking rats
Get my bottle of Ciroc and I twist the cap
Sit back watch the NBA Playoffs and roll it back, yeah!
Real fat, yeah
All I do is stack bread
In the hood, on the wall, like a fucking fathead
Two nines on your back, one sap, yeah
This my block and you niggas can't trap here
(Unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped yeah!)
I'm killing niggas I should have a hundred tatt tears
Celebrate your death, toast bottles and clap beers
Its gon' be a cold summer, come through like burr
The red phantom bull shit, the 25 Steve Kerr
The beat insane Just Blaze in this motherfucker
The cars outside, the case in this motherfucker
I should let off a couple strays in this motherfucker
Fuck that, tryna get laid in this motherfucker
(Yo, tell your friends to get wit my friends)
Yeah, meet me in the parking lot, license plate Aftermath
Screaming out fuck 50, wouldn't snitch for half his cash
If he wasn't such a bitch, nobody would've had to blast
Still he's down in Jacksonville
Don't make me have to wrap your jag
Cause I'd rather be in Saint-Tropez unpacking bags
With bitches that speak French, how you say, "Catch a cab?"
I don't trick Euros, I don't trick Pounds
I bowling ball bitches till I knock em all down
(Like the '93 Pac, I Get Around)
Duffles by the staircase, crack by the backdoor
Navigate my way through the south, I used to trap hoe
All the way through Queens bridge moving packs yo
Might have lost a couple friends but I got my gat though
Blast for, my rap foes could never stop my cash flow
Had a Nike box of hundreds when I was in that RAV4
But now I pull up in that truck with the crash-bar
With the mag low give you anything that you ask for
(Sometimes, I can be a fucking asshole)
In the bank with my mask off
Look at this nigga AR, don't take your fucking mask off
Bitch empty out the cash drawer
We on a suicide mission but we don't give fuck
Cause if we make it out bigger house, bigger truck
I'm in the strip club with a glock, nigga what
Give me yo bitch she got a cuter face and bigger butt
I ain't gon' do shit but pour champagne on her
Hit her from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her
(Don't put the back on, too many cum stains on it)
Run a train on her, call Cartoon
Have him tattoo my name on her, Star Trek 2
You know what, fuck it Aftermath too
Put a little smoke around it then take it home and pound it
Helicopter outside, nigga I'm surrounded
Had a spot in the jungles till the fucking feds found it
Momma your son got a public announcement
I got 5 million in the walls and the couches
(Don't even think about we got cameras, dogs and guns)
Ask Pepe he was there he can vouch it
Threw it in the trash can on some Oscar the Grouch shit
A bunch of green popped out, time to reroute shit
Settle down in Mississippi, got a down south clique
And my niggas like, "We ain't know all about this"
And any nigga ever snitch, got his fucking mouth fixed
You get 25, he get his fucking throat slit
Cut em like fillet mignon and throw em off the boat bitch
(Feed em to the shark then dock the yacht)
Oil in the water, damn the ocean so thick
Time to finish off these niggas on some trench coat shit
It's a drug war, real life Grand Theft
Catch you in the streets fuck you up then hit your man next
Come through on some retarded shit, just spraying techs
Where my dogs at? Tell em I crazier then DMX
Lazier than Chinese eyes, when I'm puffing that
Blueberry, I ain't talking where the muffins at
(Roll up the Sour diesel if you want nigga)
I split open the dutch, then I'm stuffing that
You should get a flight to California, come fuck with that
That's all you, go ahead, hop in the truck with that
Take it down to Cashville and hit Young Buck with that
Don't bring nothing back boarder patrol cuffing that
I ain't tryna see the pen, I'd have to get my knuckles wrapped
I wake up real early, keep lunching fags
This shit easy, you rap niggas my punching bags
(I got some combinations nigga Pacquiao shit)
Talking 'bout you popping tags
Talking 'bout you popping Cris
Where you get it popping at?
Nigga you ain't popping shit
But an X-pill as I turn the Lex wheels
I got a mean Phantom, very upset grill
Tell em why you mad son
That nigga pulled a fast one
You know who you are
When I see you, that's your ass son
But I'm in the club, throwing shots like my last gun
It's 2 o'clock
(Yerrr)Gotta make the cash run
(Yo go get the trucks from around the corner. Tell Whack I'll meet him outside)
Into the 7-eleven, 'bout to blast one
This nigga AR will not keep his fucking mask on
Deal with it when we get to the crib
You niggas is wildin' wait til we get to the crib
And split this fucking money up
Hit the block and dummy up
Shave the onion, slice it down the middle
That's a tummy tuck
That's how we do it in Compton, fuck the police
Defend my hood like a NHL goalie
(Sometimes it's cold on these motherfucking streets nigga)
Iced out Rollie
And I still remember everything that Dre told me
Red polo fleece
Sipping on that O.E.
Never been to jail cause I never had a Codie
Do it like the OGs
Cut the Impala in half, insert the gold D's
And bounce this motherfucker til it got a slow leak
Flat bed pick it up, and you know me
I'm going with the car, all night no sleep
(Gotta get this motherfucker back on the strip)
Next day we in the red Phantom four deep
Kids running up to the car block off the whole streets
It's the ice cream man, like the old P
Cali like the Lyons' O-line, that's where the holes be
BC running shit like a nose bleed
Don't get it confused the screw like codine
More swagg than the niggas from the show meet
That's your bitch? I'm 'bout to mack her like Goldie
(Shit together we can rule the world baby)
Blacked out cadiers, four seasons caviar
Spray a lil Diddy on it that'll get their panties off
Niggas see me in the lobby looking like "Damn he soft"
Catch me outside where I can let this fucking cannon off
Soo to the woo, bet I let this cannon off
And put everything in the clip right where you standing dawg
Ride off in a Mazzie, like can I ball
For the Bucks I'm tryna get it like Brandon dawg
(Young Money clearly NBA Rookie of the Year)
I'm still standing tall, wish the Twin Towers was
Take innocent lives, that's a type of shit a coward does
I'm just reminiscing, smoking on this sour blood
Take a couple more hits and pass this shit around the bus
You can't tell me shit, I done seen a thousand drugs
A hundred rounds and ten drums
That's a thousand slugs
One day I flipped the kitchen table and found a bug
Kept looking and found another one right around the subs
(Ay yo feds, can you hear?)
Got damn! I was taking a shit, then I seen one by the tub
Feeding my fish, it's a wire right by the rug
Dumb motherfuckers, this is not where they buy their drugs
That's salami in the kitchen that we frying up
The world full of bitches all the niggas dying up
They stretching niggas out for crack, all the fiends tryna dust
We got some mean smokers for the sack they tie you up
Quarter sack, they hit the pound
Brick, they burn the house down
(They connecting you won't think that shit is funny)
The fuck these niggas laughing at
Run up, you got some cash in that?
Knock on your momma door your head sitting in the bascinet
While I'm on a G4, smoking up half the jet
All seasons in New York, smoking up half the jet
246 bars ain't broke half a sweat
Just got half a mill, gave the hood half the check
And I done shot it out with prolly over half the jet
Sometimes just for the love the other half respect
(That's that hood shit, I'm living good bitch)
Outta my mind like breaking off half a X
Moving through Hollywood faster than a bag of meth
Yep! Niggas better watch they step 'less they in a fraternity
But that ain't concerning me
Let's get back on this ape shit
Back to the basics
Cold words flip birds in the kitchen with cake mix
Yeah! Betty Crocker that
Then hit the block with that
Cut off khakis, house shoes and a stocking cap
(Hit the swap meet get me some white tees, red tennis socks)
My flow a .38 don't make me have to cock it back
Shoot it like Olajuwon and bring the old Rockets back
Two holes in your face where you sockets at
Bring the whole hood out and show em how to drop a rat
They got them brand new Porsche out I'm copping that
V12 under the hood ain't no stock in that
Panoramic sun roof me and this chick watching glass
My hood like cameras in the bumper, watch your ass
(Get your ass smoked around these parts young'un)
What the fuck you thought
Ride up banging Too Short
Smoke you like a newport
Nigga this ain't New York
I be in the jungle with lions or in the zoo lost
Or with my wolves just dying to get their twos off
City of Angels be careful who you cross
Niggas will run in Mr. Chow's and take them fucking jewels off
Rapping all that goon shit, we all know that you soft
A baby's ass and a Martha Stewart face cloth
(Or a box of cotton stay pussed til you rot)
So nigga you stay on your rap shit
While I stay on my trap shit
My bust a gat shit
Busta hit me like, "You wrote 400 that quick?"
Naw 282, and that's just cause the track's sick
120 more, welcome to the liquor store
The same one that Fox sent me, "Lil nigga get the raw"
And I did it so Cedar block I'm wit it
Who you think got all these niggas in them Cincinnati fitteds, yeah!
(Took American and Ken Griffin that)
Seven five-eights, throw on my crown
Throw on my khakis then brush them Nikes down
Jump in the lat then push them Nike town
Them Space Jams I need em right now
Jordan sweatsuit on, "O Let Do It"
Go Waka Flocka on these niggas in these new kicks
You know how that go
New kicks, new whip, blue six, locking on a set like a new Crip
(That line was so crazy I had to share that shit blood)
Interior coke white, smooth like cool rip
Sold this shit to Rick Ross
80 thou, cool flip
Then I got that vibrant thing
My lil Q-tip
That Maserati a problem especially with the dual shift
Zero to sixty in woooo, it's like a mule kick
I swear to God like the preacher in the pulpit
Speaking of pools, mine heated, come through bitch
As long as it's a pearl I don't care who you come through with
(Canadian, Spanish, French nigga whatever)
Menage in the deep end
Head on the back end
I wanna fuck the Asian bitch next time leave your fat friend
Why the fuck y'all in that Honda all packed in
Headed to Inglewood say whats up to Mack 10
Say whats up to glock 9
I'm back on you niggas head
And let it be a ghost town, if I wanted niggas dead
Run with my goon squad cause more than half you niggas feds
It's either that, you ATF or one of 50's friends
(I see the wires hanging out you niggas Levi's)
But fuck it though
Cause the nigga did let me in
But he ain't wanna see The Game in HD on ESPN
I think the Bulls was Jordan
We was the best of friends then shit flipped
Went to his holmes like I was Mexican
We all know the rest
Put the burner to his chest
Hit him with 300 bars and let the streets do the rest
Yes! Terror is over you can eat now
Jason killed Freddy the whole world can sleep now
(Dream snatcher, that's me now)
Take your money lay your bitch ass on a beach now
I can see it, a G-Unit beach towel
Another man on it, y'all 'bout to tan on it
Send some lil goons by to kick some fucking sand on it
We ain't watching, go head, nigga jam on it
Damn homie in high school you was the man homie
You was lucky in Manhattan, the clip jammed
But come to Cali you a moose in some quick sand
(Sink nigga like a fucking boat with bullet holes in it)
Butter soft Banks, you a bitch man
Me and you was cool til 50 unscrewed you kickstand
And Yayo turn in your senior citizen wristband
Slap the shit out you for @LilHenchman
And just like the old days I play the bench man
Dre play the big hand, I'm cool with the 6th man
Never selfish nigga I'm eating shellfish nigga
My legacy will never die the Black Elvis nigga
(Come check me out in Graceland nigga pull a guitar out and everything)
Glock by my pelvis, clip by the waistline
On the block like Chris Bosh shoot it from the baseline
We at the 350 mark, it's break time
(Ay yo go get the L out the car, man)
(Naw, that's purple haze nigga I'm 'bout to roll this shit up get high nigga finish this motherfucking 400 bars)
(Naw, my keys right there! By that, by that coconut ciroc)
(Yeah! Lets go!)
(Yo tell them runners I'm hungry, man. Get me some french toast, bacon and shit)
Run up on you with 50 beams and 50 chefs
Niggas thinking it's a game tryna push select
Call a timeout, like I'm out
All these soft ass rappers faking the crime route
Nigga got real quiet, now that Shine out
Don't make me smuggle him outta Belize and pull the 9s out
Niggas scared now, my goon squad here now
We turning on the headlights and running over deers now
(Yeah. All up in your woods, whats good)
And I'm the only one you rap niggas should fear now
You see a G-Unit poster, you better tear it down
I'm talking to you motherfucker, so turn around
The beef forever lives never ever put your burner down
I beat the shit out these niggas they Tina Turner now
Stripped of their manhood, ass naked like they sherming out
While I peel a top on the block, and just burn it out
Hit the strip club with my niggas and just turn it out
(Ay yo that's Jeezy motherfucking Lambo? Shit cold nigga!)
They got free hot wings they bring full service out
It's all good, we straight
Time to perm it out
Kat Williams
Run up in your house, tie you up and make you watch while we run through your spouse
Lift up your fucking blouse
Tiger Woods been in this?
Nope, thank you. Pass that bitch to Menace
Get what I came for, stuff it inside the Range doors
380 bars in, get ready for the main course
(Yo gimme a couple napkins, a salad fork, I'm starving nigga)
June 15th one of us gotta change course
But not the one that spit 400 blunted and ain't hoarse
Eight plaques on the wall, hang yours
Before you get one, I prolly have eight more
It never been about the money with me
Just been about tryna get my niggas something to eat
Take em on a couple tours get em something to beat
Never satisfied that's why we keep the guns on the seat
(Yeah. All I know is blocks, glocks and ciroc)
(Lets get it)
Who got a blunt I can chief
Niggas run around like Indians but man not one of them chiefs
Killer California, I'm just one of the beast
Take a fucking blood bath and bathe myself with the beef
(Ugh!)
It's the home stretch but I ain't even home yet
Only thing can stop me is me, I'm my own threat
Eating lobsters, writing Al Capone checks
I still ain't on the level of N.O.R.E. or Capone yet
(Niggas gon' learn to respect the veterans nigga apologize to Cube)
But after this year, and after this here
Niggas won't see the throne for another six years
P.S. motherfucker ain't no bitch here
I'm going out the same way I came in, fifth gear
I see the finish line, shit yeah
It's time to celebrate Kanary bring that Cris here
Sticks tell Crack bring the cars around the back
Four hundred and six bars bitch, it's a wrap!
Thanks to Nano for correcting these lyrics

Thanks to M Marquez for correcting these lyrics
Thanks to Nano for correcting these lyrics
Download Lyrics


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