I Come from the Game E-40 (Ft. Payroll Giovanni, Peezy & Sada Baby)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "I Come from the Game" by E-40 (Ft. Payroll Giovanni, Peezy & Sada Baby). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
Helluva Made This Beat Baby
[Chorus: E-40]
My mama wasn't a sucka and my daddy wasn't a lame
Uh-uh (Bitch), I come from the game
I do, I come from the game
Ho, I come from the game
My mama wasn't no sucka and my daddy wasn't a lame
Never, I come from the game
I do (Biatch), I come from the game
For real (Ooh), I come from the game (Holla)
[Verse 1: E-40]
Close encounter, digital scale and money counter
On top of the kitchen counter, right up under the cabinets by the rice and flour
Packin' power, even in the shower I got my thirty-rounder
Thirty-shot extended'll give a hater dementia
Never know who wanna end ya, could be someone ya kin to
The homie or just a random, whoever it is, I handle 'em
When I first cut my teeth in the streets I fell deep in love
With the glitter and glamour, bit by the hustlin' bug
I doubled my profit off a quarter zip of the yola
Right then and there I wanted to be a high roller
I was consistent about my chicken when I was out there deliverin'
That nasal candy and turtle, that nostril dust and that herbal
Quarterbackin' and flea-flickin', handin' off packs to my team
My colleagues, my squad and my co-defendants move beans
I promised myself to be that dude no matter what line of work that I choose
Stay fitted and knitted, people judge a pimp by his shoes (Biatch!)
Helluva Made This Beat Baby
[Chorus: E-40]
My mama wasn't a sucka and my daddy wasn't a lame
Uh-uh (Bitch), I come from the game
I do, I come from the game
Ho, I come from the game
My mama wasn't no sucka and my daddy wasn't a lame
Never, I come from the game
I do (Biatch), I come from the game
For real (Ooh), I come from the game (Holla)
[Verse 1: E-40]
Close encounter, digital scale and money counter
On top of the kitchen counter, right up under the cabinets by the rice and flour
Packin' power, even in the shower I got my thirty-rounder
Thirty-shot extended'll give a hater dementia
Never know who wanna end ya, could be someone ya kin to
The homie or just a random, whoever it is, I handle 'em
When I first cut my teeth in the streets I fell deep in love
With the glitter and glamour, bit by the hustlin' bug
I doubled my profit off a quarter zip of the yola
Right then and there I wanted to be a high roller
I was consistent about my chicken when I was out there deliverin'
That nasal candy and turtle, that nostril dust and that herbal
Quarterbackin' and flea-flickin', handin' off packs to my team
My colleagues, my squad and my co-defendants move beans
I promised myself to be that dude no matter what line of work that I choose
Stay fitted and knitted, people judge a pimp by his shoes (Biatch!)
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