The Game — Lookin At You Explicit

Walkin' down the street in my All Stars In my khaki suit, doin' what I do Walkin' down the street, smokin' chronic In my black locs, lookin' at you Guess who's back on the West Coast tracks? It's the motherfuckin' messiah of gangsta rap Still dip in the six fo', still puffin' on the same chronic Haters mad 'cause I still got it I never fall off, even without the Doc You niggas sellin' your soul tryin' to stay on top Bitch nigga, check your Kotex You niggas ain't movin' shit like the hand on a fake-ass Rolex I'm five million sold, the cover of my last album The only time you see me sittin' on gold I'm the most anticipated, most celebrated Most loved and the motherfuckin' most hated Keep rollin' like gold Daytons Niggas got the game fucked up like Hennessey with a Coke chaser You gotta deal with me, I'm the West Coast savior Niggas think of me every time they six fo' scraper What do you call a nigga who's overbearin' Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful? You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his hay day in the worst way The five star surgeon general Took Jayceon to the Aftermath Research Department And gave him a blood test It came back 'G A M E Positive' The nigga's infected with the game virus His oratorical skills are so impeccable That niggas in the streets call him Cyrus The young don who is down with violence 'Cause in his heart, he's a tyrant It's not a game, it's just called The Game There'll be no referees, no half time reports When the game is over, The Game is over You can't put a quarter in the machine And get three mo' min', that's the end I'll walkin' down the street in my All Stars In my khaki suit, doin' what I do Walkin' down the street, smokin' chronic In my black locs, lookin' at you I done been to Hell and back Left for dead, you know who to thank for that Finished my second LP without a Dr. Dre track You can take my soul but can't take my plaques I'm the motherfuckin' snare when it touch the beat I'm the 808 drum that got you movin' your feet I'm the heir to the throne after the D R E Product of my environment You old-ass niggas get ready for your early retirement Before I let hip hop burn down I run in the building like a fireman Who can out spit me when I'm high off sticky? Throwin' back Patron shots in some creased up Dickies I'm D.O.C. certified, Ice Cube 'Lynch'd' me Snoop stamped me and the good Doc handpicked me You still with me? Me and my mic Can't be separated like Interscope and hahahaha Oh shit, this some good ass motherfuckin' weed That California sticky green This is the aftermath for the Aftermath West Coast