The Game-92 Bars [1992 Album Song] (Meek Mill Diss 2016)

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• published: 16 Sep 2016
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LYRICS: [Verse] This that sick rap, kick back Come to where I pitch at Where bitches love The Game like Tyson Beckford six pack Presidential Rollie, nigga, where your wrist at? I can kill you in four bars that's a Kit Kat Did the Lambo my way, with a sick wrap Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick back No rats in my pack, ain't no wrinkles in my slacks Counting singles in my Shaqs Stacking Pringles from the crack Nigga I was on the bus with it Had 12 stuck to my chest in the field with the colt, Andrew Luck with it We had the rock, hit the block like what's up with it Jay was in the Z, my young gunnas in the truck with it Sigel would've loved it, Philly would've fucked with it California state property you niggas stuck with it Brrrring, sold Peddi Crack Game was on the block in his beanie with a mac I'm what you rap niggas 'fraid of A Compton nigga that could go bar for bar with Jada Let me tell you who suck, like banana Now or Laters Blac Chyna head the bomb, Al-Qaeda Listen, you want beef I'll cater Game snap on everything he like a fucking wild gator Silver and black Ghost, nigga that's Al Davis Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders The Rams is back, them bullets getting tossed 16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west YG, Nipsey, and Kendrick yea check Shout 'em out I just do it like a fucking Nike rep Bently truck Chuck, with the Henny cupped up Don't get me fucked up, you see the semi tucked, duck Pass the Goose, where them duck ducks? These hoes foaming at the mouth, they got Penny fucked up I'm 'bout to poke 'em like a cactus Told that bitch to roll the Philly for the game, and she talking about practice The Maybach is A.I Artificial intelligence motherfucker that's Junior Seau All my doors suicide, I'm in Vegas shoot the five Tell the dealer pay me don't be shy he ain't from do or die Now do you wanna ride, back seat of my Caddy? Used to flip them pies ain't no relation to Patty And I move Ps, ain't no relation to Swaggy Before that it was missing teeth and nickle sack baggies That's caine, no daddy cause I ain't really have one And you can't call yourself dope if you ain't never bag none I'm the old DMX you niggas Drag-On Game raw as fuck like poking holes in the Magnum Used to ether the niggas in all of my 16s Now I scare 'em once a year like I'm fucking Halloween This ain't a dream, nigga hurricane a nightmare Stab you in your sleep and smack your baby out his highchair Your daddy was a bitch, I had to do it I ain't need no ski mask to do it Murder is Rihanna and I'm attracted to it Name a state, I'll send a package through it If the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I'm Massachusetts Sitting in this Maybach with music Your head is like Mustard beat and I'll put the ratchet to it PARTY sent my jackas to it Drama bring the mac into it And this scope will get your mouth washed when I attach it to it Gold on my neck, I make your bitch put her back into it Usain Bolt if you bring a real track into it Another classic moving the way to Aftermath to do it Dre had the Chronic and I did was put the matches to it Traffic moving backwards through it Ever since I had the Buick Known for putting cheese on niggas heads the way the Packers do it And I had the yay, yea I brought crack to music Every situation in rap, I've been a savage through it And all these hoes getting mad cause I'm smashing through 'em They can get a ring one day, if the Cavs can do it Be LeBron bitch, I'm Jayceon bitch Who else you seen parked at the swap meet in James Bond shit? Another foreign car driven by a convict Aventador matte black Akon lips Nas ether niggas, Game napalm shit Niggas say my name I pop up like the State Farm bitch No nigga can see me, on or off TV Gun by them Yeezys, I'm the 6' 5" Eazy Lightskin bitches be mad and talking greasy I'ma start fucking them Dej Loafs and Dreezy's I'ma start beefing with Cole, Drizzy and corn row Kenny Or you could pick your favorite rapper, and he gon' be pouring out Henny I got a bitch from Minne-Apolis pack a semi Bang the ratchet at Denny's and fly herself back to Philly She got a couple mill and she don't even know Meek And ever since that nigga snitched on me we just don't speak See that shit you got with Drake is like a slow leak Blood'll be dripping like Niagara if I poke Meek Nicki won't get no sleep, I'm coming through at 4 a.m Four deep, to leave his dead body on the soaked sheets It could happen lowkey You better have Ross call me or you gon' be eye level with a roach feet This ain't a diss, nigga This is all lives matter except this nigga's