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Lookin At You
The Game Lyrics

Walking down the street, in my All Stars
In my, khaki suit, doin what I do
Walking down the street, smoking, chronic
In my black locs, lookin, at you

Guess who's back on the West coast tracks
It's the motherfucking 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 trying to stay on top
Bitch nigga check your Kotex
You niggas ain't moving 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 motherfucking most hated
Keep rolling like gold Daytons
Niggas got the game fucked up like Hennessy 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 overbearing
Belligerent, foul, defiant and very disrespectful?
You call that nigga the Doctor's Advocate
He's a reflection of Dr. Dre in his heyday 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 damu's 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 halftime reports
When the game is over, The Game is over
You can't put a quarter in the machine and get three mo' men
THAT'S, the end

Walking down the street, in my All Stars
In my, khaki suit, doin what I do
Walking down the street, smoking, 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 motherfucking 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 outspit me when I'm high off sticky
Throwing 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 hahaha

Ohh shit
This some good ass motherfucking weed
California sticky green!
This is the aftermath for the Aftermath
West, coast!

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Comments from YouTube:

Savage Bangz

Still bumping this is 2019 💯



Jordan Owens

Nearly 2021😉


2020 😎

Devin C


Michael Hamilton

2020 now :-p

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Manj E Singh



@A deezy new one nation yes argeed

Christian Charles

@A deezy new one nation All games albums fire. Doc1, 2, 2.5, Advocate, LAX , Red, 1992, Born 2 Rap and Jesus piece all fire. All 30 mixtapes tight except year of the wolf.

Bob Dobalina

@A deezy new one nation the first album is iconic because its what got the ball rollin', but this is his best album as far as quality tracks!

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