Body Bags The Game (Ft. Ini Kamoze)

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[Intro: The Game]
It's murderer (echo)
Is 07 shit
We runnin' through summers
In dual hummers
And tell them my crew coming for war

[Verse 1: The Game]
Ay yooooooooooooooo!
I can't let the day go without lettin' the K go
Now watch his face blow, YAYO!
Heard you hidin' in the big apple
Better keep hidin' for them Puerto Ricans kidnap you
9-3 gangsta ties
Haitans down in Miami (Zoe Pound!)
Yeah, them Haitins down in Miami
Fat Joe don't fuck with you, Nas don't like you
So who they gon' blame when the long nose snipe you
Potato on the muzzle, black tape on the grip
We in the A-Team van with black tape on your bitch
She gonna tell us where you at
We gonna twist that dro'
And just wait 'til that rat come out the that hole
No, the streets ain't safe
When we see him we gonna eat that face
No body we gonna beat that case
Yeah, it's on again, two shots of patron I'm in
Drive slow and let the motherfuckin' chrome extend