Loyal to the Game

Lyrics

[Intro] (David Wesson) [Verse 1: Peezy & Payroll Giovanni] Was loyal to some niggas, caught cases and I ain't panic Knowin' when I go do this fucking time, they gon' vanish Peoples I fuck with was speakin' down, sayin' I ratted Ain't told on a soul, check the papers, it's public record Cashed out my lawyers, I don't do the public defenders And did it on my own, ain't nobody gave me a nickel Took my last fifteen thousand and made it triple And did that shit five more times, now I'm the nigga Stand ten toes, I was raised on that Street report card, I got all A's on that I was in too deep to where I can't fall back Switched the hustle, nigga, now I'm gettin' paid off rap Niggas lying in they songs, I just state all facts Sick I called my nigga phone and he can't call back Use to middleman chickens and they ain't all hatch Only chickens niggas know is six-piece, all flats I'm a boss around this bitch, I put my hood on the map I put food on plates, I done bought bitches bags Used to hit the titty bar and grab ones by the bag Killers walk me to the cars, I pull off in somethin' fast Bad bitches staring at me, "Check out his necklace" Niggas that's hatin' ain't got on shit, you niggas naked I pay these motherfuckers no mind, don't even sweat it That chain was twenty thousand, my baby, don't disrespect it Ridin' somethin' foreign as I cruise through the snow Black Timbs untied, mink on 'cause it's cold Fuck a bitch one time, I don't want her, she old 'Fit was thirty-two hundred, could've bought me a boat Paid a house for the watch, so you know I'm living good Feds charged me with the R.I.C.O., my nigga, I'm paid in full I'm plugged with them peoples that don't speak no English Been counting all day, got paper cuts on my fingers, nigga (4-1) [Verse 2: Payroll Giovanni] Still loyal to the game even though it betrayed me (Yup) Took some of my niggas, tried to make go crazy (Damn) I'm almost at my quota, Lord, don't let them raid me (Please) I need the ice chain and that kitted Mercedes (I need it) Mindset of a hustler from the inner city (Yup) Rollie on my wrist, the price in the upper fifties (Upper fifties) Niggas goin' broke tryna prove they fuckin' with me Nigga, you's a joke, I don't even ball in the city (Boy) You party at a club where it smell like Black and Milds I'm sippin' margaritas by some water outta town (Yeah) Oops, out the country, I served dog food as a puppy Same shit that got my mans twenty, am I blessed or lucky? (Which one?) She saw me at the light, now she hintin' she wanna fuck me (What's up?) Why would I fuck you? You be givin' pussy to flunkies (Bitch) Life was more peaceful when I was dealin' with junkies (Facts) This rap shit, niggas do anything for some money (Yup) R.I.P. RJ, Flinto, and Roc RJ said we gon' have matchin' Marauders on the block Me and Roc really did that, fuckin' plenty hoes Me and Flint said we should be in some foreign by twenty-four Now I'm in the foreign reminiscing 'bout 'em all Missin' simple shit like laughin' with 'em in the mall (Haha) Snake shit is allowed when you fuckin' 'round with raw But it could be smooth if your dog really your dog (Yup) I done been broke with fifty thousand in the duffle Even after making that, this game got me on my knuckles (Damn) 'Cause this go to the plug, this ain't none of my cheddar And I never run off, I just grind 'til it get better (Yup) We was teenagers rockin' Al Wissam leathers Prada boots and tinted Cartis, wavin' stacks in the party (Bitch) TVs in the whip, big rims with the lip But y'all don't know half 'bout this Doughboy shit, nigga