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The Game - Change the Game Lyrics



The Game - Change the Game Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Ty Dolla Sign ]

Relax your mind, let your conscience feel free
You're now f*ckin' with Hit-Boy and G.A.M.E
It's Dolla $ign in this motherf*cker (Dolla $ign)
Wrist nigga, big tipper, quarter mil', my wrist, nigga

It's the Numinati (bitches) move your body (this is)
The newest Audi, gassin' on the 'Shaw next to Snoop and Rowdy
(Niggas) movin' oppy, so we in the coupe with shottys
And my nigga Ye just pulled up in two Bugattis
Don't ask me how, these Hit-Boy classic sounds
Put the Draco on my face, you can't back me down
Soon as the bass drop, asses bounce
And bitches just like the blunts, they get passed around
Give me the chronic or the cookies, the woods gon' spark to it
Niggas tryna ride our wave, we bringin' the sharks to it
Where my dawgs at? Glocks gon' bang in the dark to it
Brought the Westside back, C-Walk in the park to it
Game mode, 'bout to change my name to 3Pacs, nigga
I'm like three Pacs steppin' in classic Reeboks, nigga
We shoot 'til it's empty, then we box niggas
It's like an R hangin' from your neck when we Roc niggas

Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga

Still here, never left
Bandana on my right, Nip tatted on my chest
Feel the Hit-Boy drums when they drummin' on the West
Chronic smoke in her lungs got her rubbin' on her breasts
What's next? Pourin' champagne on the rose
'Bout to f*ck her in the rain 'til her nipples get cold, uh-huh
Numinati, put the ice on the gold
Got her livin' out the Birkin 'cause my life on the road
Whether in and out of town, I gotta floss the Dezzi
Get shot, I tell the block, "All dogs go to Heaven"
I'm not gon' stop, them tops is gon' drop
The opps is gon' rot, them guns is gon' pop
Been rich for twenty years, this is not your level
On the 'Shaw in a Hellcat, I just shot the devil
Uh, Drillmatic up and the bars comin' from Attica
I stopped smoking weed and I'm goin' back to Africa

Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Relax your mind, let your conscience feel free
You're now f*ckin' with Hit-Boy and G.A.M.E
It's Dolla $ign in this motherf*cker (Dolla $ign)
Wrist nigga, big tipper, quarter mil', my wrist, nigga

It's the Numinati (bitches) move your body (this is)
The newest Audi, gassin' on the 'Shaw next to Snoop and Rowdy
(Niggas) movin' oppy, so we in the coupe with shottys
And my nigga Ye just pulled up in two Bugattis
Don't ask me how, these Hit-Boy classic sounds
Put the Draco on my face, you can't back me down
Soon as the bass drop, asses bounce
And bitches just like the blunts, they get passed around
Give me the chronic or the cookies, the woods gon' spark to it
Niggas tryna ride our wave, we bringin' the sharks to it
Where my dawgs at? Glocks gon' bang in the dark to it
Brought the Westside back, C-Walk in the park to it
Game mode, 'bout to change my name to 3Pacs, nigga
I'm like three Pacs steppin' in classic Reeboks, nigga
We shoot 'til it's empty, then we box niggas
It's like an R hangin' from your neck when we Roc niggas

Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga

Still here, never left
Bandana on my right, Nip tatted on my chest
Feel the Hit-Boy drums when they drummin' on the West
Chronic smoke in her lungs got her rubbin' on her breasts
What's next? Pourin' champagne on the rose
'Bout to f*ck her in the rain 'til her nipples get cold, uh-huh
Numinati, put the ice on the gold
Got her livin' out the Birkin 'cause my life on the road
Whether in and out of town, I gotta floss the Dezzi
Get shot, I tell the block, "All dogs go to Heaven"
I'm not gon' stop, them tops is gon' drop
The opps is gon' rot, them guns is gon' pop
Been rich for twenty years, this is not your level
On the 'Shaw in a Hellcat, I just shot the devil
Uh, Drillmatic up and the bars comin' from Attica
I stopped smoking weed and I'm goin' back to Africa

Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Ty Dolla in this bitch
And we high, we ride in that Impala with the clips
Don't change the game for these hoes
Plays the game like we supposed
Hurricane in the house, nigga
Switch hitter, brick flipper, bitch getter, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Chauncey A. Hollis, Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Tyrone William Griffin
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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