No Smoke at the Polo Lounge The Game (Ft. Jeremih)

[Intro: The Game]
People say
Had a shorty in the studio the other night from Gothenburg, Sweden (Love is just for purity)
Asked me can she have some champagne (Bongo By The Way)
She looked surprised when I said, "Yeah" (But it's got to be more)
I told her, "Look baby, in here, the Veuve Clicquot is like Sprite, that's all you (Than just cash to me, don't you understand me, girl?)
You got all the wrong niggas in the right room, ya heard?"
(Yeah)
(Here we go)

[Verse 1: The Game]
I got the Dеvil tap dancing on my shoulder, don't I?
Got them Angel wings on that Vеneno Roadster, won't I?
Up the FN like it's effin', I move the section like, "F it"
Move around the hood on niggas like they move my papers to Geffen
My reflection remind me of a nigga from the Chi' steppin'
Glock, Kevin Hart complexion
We bang shots in every direction
Clean up our messes, remove suppressors
You ever had a bullet removed from the inside of your motherfuckin' intestines?
Homie, don't you know we make no mistakes?
We OD with the Dracs like OB, break
Compton niggas get the cake, wait
Bompton niggas get the cake, weigh it on scales
All else fails, we put the packs on whales
We like Chanel, you will never get this crack on sale
We cut the rat from its tail if that pack, go stale
Somebody?
Anybody? (Yeah)
Catch a body