Song lyrics downloaded from: https://www.albumsongandlyrics.com ------------------------------------------ The Game - I'm looking ------------------------------------------ [The Game] Im from Compton where them guns bust, watch Poppa George pop Cats tellin jokes at them car games Seen big face hundreds, handle the rock like Nate Archibald What? This nigga only sixteen And I wanted to be, just like him, middle school fightin Any nigga with a chip on his shoulder, whattup nigga? You want beef with me? Now I let the heat speak for me No more talkin, just outline chalkin Nigga Witta Attitude from birth, 100 Miles and Running Gunnin bustin shots like fuck the cops Notorious for burnin blocks, weavin in and out of traffic and chop Game the young Robin Hood of the block Steal from the rich, give to the poor, coward niggaz rock Second comin of this black Alfred Hitchcock Kick in the door, wavin the four-four Ten shots to your spleen, let them violins sing [Chorus: Blue Chip + (The Game)] Yo, Im just a ghetto nigga stuck in this game, younguns runnin with caine Rain hits so we floodin the game When you come to Compton respect the grounds, leave you shook man (And I look good, from Compton to Brooklyn) Hey yo I dont give a fuck who you are, fuck ya ice Fuck the block that you claim, fuck your Bentley Azure (Dead presidents is all I represent) (Til yall met me yall niggaz aint met gangsta yet) [The Game] Fast cars, money and muscle, the hustle I was brought up in the 80s Gangbangin, dope traffic, shit get crazy From where niggaz grow up hard like dicks raised Them hustlin guns like Knicks players, we got mouths to feed Til they put flowers on me, moms kiss my cold cheek In that pine box, Im buyin rocks, eyein cops Fuck a cell block, the young kid makin it happen Who you think got them fiends runnin back like Bo Jackson? Im a gangsta, what else could I say? Im ahead of myself like its Y4K 2Pac, Scarface, N.W.A. Taught me how to dodge them bullets, keep my wig in play Keep fo snug in the waist or pay a thousand to have em Niggaz in the street move faster than, Michael Jacksons album But the shit dont really matter to me, we get better G Bet the four slow em down like PCP [Chorus] [The Game] Real gangsters never talk shit, handle they business Fuck the dry snitchin and bitchin, niggaz die when them bullets fly Who fuckin with him, ha? Not a nigga alive End up dead in that 5 He got no sympathy for them dead guys, friend or foe Watch that chest cave in, what that vest savin? Make it sloppy for the autopsy, leave my enemies in a frenzy On the frontlines holdin a 9 Everyday a new chapter, my own niggaz plottin on me Tryin to hit me but they wont get me, feel the semi first Fuckin with my dough, is the worst way to go Yall know, niggaz cry when them bullets burn slow dummy In and out of spots watchin my money If one dollar come up missin bodies start to come up missin No one too heavy for the Expedition, piss on your corpse Watch your soul shiver, throw him in the river, bitch nigga [Chorus]